Peril in the shallows, p.24
Peril in the Shallows, page 24
“And this figure... You are to die for, honey. Those curves!” she said, fanning herself.
Frankly, I didn’t love when people mentioned my curves. They were somewhat new—hello, slowing metabolism—and I hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. Seriously, I’d bought six different bras and they all fit just slightly wrong, though each in dissimilar, and increasingly mystifying, ways.
“Thanks, Annie,” I said. “Your wig is stellar.”
“Aw, thanks,” she said, primping it a little. “I wasn’t really feeling any of my outfits this morning, but the wig put me right in the spirit.”
I wasn’t sure what spirit she was talking about—maybe the spirit of RuPaul or something—but she always put me in a better mood instantly. Annie had a way of making everyone feel just a little bit better about their day.
“Come sit with me. Tell me everything.”
So of course, I sat, though I wasn’t really sure what she wanted me to tell her. There hadn’t been a whole lot of “everything” since we’d danced this routine yesterday.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Annie. There just isn’t a whole lot going on these days.”
Annie tilted her head, a sort of nondescript look on her face. It wasn’t quite pity or disappointment or a “things’ll get better” look, but it was maybe a combination of the three. In any case, it made me feel like I had to elaborate.
“Maybe I need to take a class or something.”
Annie chuckled. “You certainly like your classes, don’t you, kitten?”
I smiled. “What? It’s been like, two weeks since Tae Kwon Do for Beginners ended.”
“And before that it was?”
“La Dolce Vita: An Exploration of Italian Pastries.”
“And before that?”
“An Introduction to American Sign Language.”
“Uh-huh. Exactly how many classes have you taken this year?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe...six?”
“Petra,” she said, taking my hands. “It’s only April. That’s more than one a month.”
“Well, some of them overlapped. ASL can’t be learned overnight, you know,” I explained, not sure why I felt like I had to. Because seriously, I loved taking classes. What’s not to love? Learn new things. Meet new people. Sometimes there was exercise...that intermediate pole dancing class was no joke, let me tell you.
“Is any of it helping with your writing?”
Did I mention Annie had a way of squeezing information out of people? We’d already extensively covered the subject of Mabel the writer’s block, ages ago.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Learning new things has to be helpful, right? And I’ve been meeting a lot of people, so that’s good for creating characterization.”
“And how much have you written because of it?”
“Um, not...much?”
“Well, if you ask me, all these classes of yours are great, as long as they’re not a distraction from your real work, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I feel like they might be.”
She was right, of course, and I was about to tell her so, except another distraction entered the lobby at that precise moment. And heavens to Nancy, what a distraction it was.
Ryan.
He was quite possibly the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. Tall, with a smirk that said he understood things about the world. Things you were sure would come in handy in every aspect of life, including the bedroom.
Annie jumped up at the sight of him. “Ryan, honey. Have you met Petra yet?”
Which kind of made me want to duck behind the chair since I hadn’t gotten particularly dressed up to, you know, go down to the coffee shop.
He came over, looking like he wanted nothing more than to escape, but Annie was not the kind of person that was easy to escape from.
“Oh yeah, hey. I’ve seen you around the building,” he said. “I’m Ryan.”
I stood and he shook my hand.
I hadn’t mustered the ability to do anything but blink quite yet, but Annie was kind enough to give me a little kick in the ankle.
“Uh, hi. Petra Jackson,” was the best I could cobble together.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, and smirked an even more adorable smirk than before. And yeah, a smirk is not always a good thing, but on Ryan it was like he was in on some sort of secret or something. And it was utterly captivating.
As was the view as he walked toward the elevators.
After the doors had safely closed and he was out of earshot, Annie perked right up. Which was to say she went from a level three on the perkiness scale—Charmingly Bubbly—to a level eight: Enthusiastically Vivacious. “So, I see you have a little spark of interest in our floor-mate.”
My stomach squeezed. “He lives on our floor?” I asked, my gaze whipping from the elevator doors to her.
“2202. Right across the hall from you, my dear. I’m surprised you haven’t seen him coming or going yet.”
“Huh,” I said, pretending like it was the most normal thing in the world that the most magical representation of the male species I’d ever seen in real life lived right across the hall from me.
I frantically thought back through all the noises I’d ever made since I’d moved in. Had I ever farted in the hallway? Thankfully, nothing came to mind. There certainly hadn’t been any raucous sex noises or anything.
It took everything in me not to beg Annie to spill every morsel she knew about the guy, but even I knew that would arouse at least as much pity as the time I got that perm in fifth grade.
Then again...maybe this was exactly what I’d been looking for—The Mystery of the Handsome Neighbor, I mused silently, as I fought the urge to raise an inquisitive eyebrow as one might do in a good sleuthing novel.
Copyright © 2024 by Rachel Astor
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ISBN-13: 9780369743121
Peril in the Shallows
Copyright © 2024 by Frances Karkosak
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Addison Fox, Peril in the Shallows
