(8) Kathie Jane

                                    

                                          
Kathie Jane
                          
I have never been right about anything than I was with my apartment. It has the prettiest city view at night and a floor-to-ceiling window where I can see the sun when it rises and sets. A simple requirement for an apartment, really, but unlike the others that I checked out, my heart did a happy dance the moment I walked in. 
                          
It was my idea of an own place. Although I have that one resistant neighbor, I think I can build friendship between us... after I wake some of his sleeping emotions. I knew he still has some of them working. They just need a little push to function thoroughly. 
                          
I need to figure out his timetable before that though. 
                          
I am a morning person. I wake up at 6:30 A.M. to grab coffee and buy a ton of red velvet cupcakes to last me until lunch but we never really cross paths. 
                          
Which reminds me, does he take the same elevator as I do? Clearly, he's some sort of an Alpha of a pack and it will be a surprise if they don't give him a private elevator once he ask. 
                          
I frowned at the ceiling and kicked the sheets off the bed since the sun rays start streaming in and I have to get up. Why do I spend at least five minutes in bed thinking about my stranger of a neighbor? 
                          
Glancing at the clock, I groaned when it read 7 A.M. which explained why my stomach is growling for food. 
                          
I just spent almost half an hour in bed. I gave up going out at six thirty in the freaking morning in hopes of finally riding the same elevator with him or maybe he'll be going in as I am going out.
                          
I sit upright, motionless for a couple more minutes. My phone buzzes on my side table but I'm not into lifting a finger either. It went on and on until it just gave up.
                          
Later on, I hear a knock on the door or my sleep-induced haze is making that up. 
                          
Another knock.
                          
Nope. There was really a knock. 
                          
I shuffle out of my bedroom and did a seemingly long trek to the door. Scratching my eyes, I opened the door. 
                          
"Hey." His eyes flick up and down. He's assessing me behind the dark rimmed glasses.
                          
Great. Of all the mornings I looked descent, he chose the day I look like I just dug my way out of the grave. 
                          
What is he doing at my door, anyway? 
                          
I was harmlessly wondering why another week has gone by and I never heard from him. I've become friends with the security guards, concierges and the majority of residents of the building. But with this particular neighbor? 
                          
Not much of a friendly nod. 
                          
"There's someone in the lobby for you. They've been ringing you but you were not answering." He stares down at me.
                          
I look back to the direction of my bedroom. Maybe answering my phone would have saved me from this embarrassment. "Who?" 
                          
"A suitor with a ton of bouquets," he answers curtly then turns away to head to his apartment. 
                          
"Oh." I nod. I know it's only a matter of time before male friends started showing up at my door because my mother couldn't go on without mentioning Owen is out of the picture.
                          
"Hey, wait." I called out to Cade.
                          
The guy is either deaf or very unfriendly to not grant me a backward glance. I'm guessing it's the latter. However, I'm not one to leave unsociable people be. I poke at them until they crack. 
                          
I step out of my apartment, taking two steps at a time. It was harder to catch up so I grab whatever my hand could reach. And it worked. 
                          
He stopped. 
                          
"I said wait," I blurted.
                          
Cade turns around and narrowed his eyes where my hand was fisting the back of his suit jacket. 
                          
I let go and tried to smooth the wrinkles over. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't have stopped if I didn't grab you," I reasoned out. 
                          
He lets out a breath through his nose. "What do you want?" 
                          
"I, uh," I broke off, realizing I haven't got anything to say.
                          
He turns around again, but my hand instinctively grab on his suit jacket to stop him from taking another step. 
                          
"What now?" He says in brazen impatience.
                          
"I just need to ask a little favor."
                          
Cade stayed still. "What is it?"
                          
I tug on his jacket to make sure he looks at me. When he did, I muster my brightest smile. "Can you tell him I'm not here?"
                          
His lips twitched. "No." 
                          
I saw that one coming. "Please?" 
                          
"No." 
                          
"Come on. How hard can that be?" I say sweetly. "There's no way I'm going to the lobby looking like a mess."
                          
Cade looks me over. "I am not going to do it because I said so. Not because it's hard." 
                          
"Please, Cadey?" I figured a pair of puppy eyes would work on him. 
                          
The guy gave me an unreadable look. "Why would I do that for you?" 
                          
"Because I'm asking you nicely." I can feel it. He's giving in. 
                          
He clicks his tongue. "Fine." 
                          
It stretched my smile the furthest it could go. "Thank you. I owe you one." 
                          
See? The guy isn't so bad. He just needs a little nudge. 
                          
"And what if he doesn't go?" He asks, his voice not betraying the slightest of interest. 
                          
I shrug. "You do your thing." 
                          
"Okay." He takes out his phone and scrolled down his contacts. While he's got busy on a call, I spent the brief pause on what appears to be constructive at the moment: study him. 
                          
He looks younger up close. His hair that I thought were healthy dark locks are actually a lighter shade. He's got an intimidating jawline that speaks for him. I couldn't help but notice the indistinct hollows on each sides of his cheeks while he talks to someone over the phone. 
                          
Cade says something about escorting someone out of the building and then it hit me.
                          
"Wait, is that security?" By the time I realized what he just did, he's already put down his phone. 
                          
"Yes. You said I can do my thing," he says nonchalantly.
                          
I gaped at him. "And that's your thing? Kicking somebody out via security?" 
                          
"More or less." He started walking toward the elevator, this time, without getting snatched into a stop. 
                          
I watched the doors of the elevator close with him in it. My stomach did a tiny flip when his eyes graze with mine before it swallows him completely. 
                          
I had two things in mind: what day it is and what time of the day it is.
                          
It's Sunday, past seven in the morning.
                          
Either it's his day off or he just goes to work later on Sundays. Both are unlikely. 
                          
But who knows? Maybe behind those glasses there's a guy with a blithe spirit and who watches soccer on Sundays.
                          
Annnd, I'm getting way ahead of myself here. 
                          
8