Page 31 of No Place Like You

I laugh and catch Lucy looking in my direction. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and the light streaming in from the windows catches against the small row of hoops looped through her earlobe.

“Bye, Janet.” I place my phone down on the counter, and when I look at Lucy, we share an awkward smile.

“Personal call?”

“Um, yeah.” I don’t elaborate. It feels a little upsetting and grave to discuss my sister and her illness and why I felt the need to check in on her first thing in the morning. Luckily, Lucy doesn’t prod any further. Instead, she glances at the small digital clock on the microwave and sips her coffee.

“We should probably head out in about fifteen minutes,” I announce after we’ve been taking loud, warm slurps from our mugs.

She nods. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

It takes about twenty minutes to get from my place to hers. Six subway stops and one car change later, Lucy and I are walking the last ten blocks to get to her building. When her building comes into view, we’re met with a man in his early to mid-forties wearing business attire that looks too stuffy for a Sunday morning. His terse features, brow drawn together in disapproval, and a scowl set in the narrow lines of his frown make him look incredibly unapproachable even with his gaze focused on his phone held in his hand.

Lucy and I reach the building just as the man looks up from his phone. “Are you Lucia?”

“Lucy,” she corrects. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He nods, does a reproving once-over at me, and turns to walk toward the building. I peer at Lucy, and her eyes widen. My hand automatically moves to the small of her back, guiding her up the steps.

“Let’s get this over with,” I whisper. The softness in my voice and the encouraging way my steps follow hers earns me a small smile.

When we reach her apartment door, the guy, whose name I have yet to find out, opens it with his own set of keys. The knob jiggles, and it almost falls out of the latch. He lets out a sigh of disapproval and walks through the entryway.

“I locked it best I could, but it was already a little loose when I moved in,” Lucy starts to explain. “And the toaster oven was just done, so I threw it out, plus some?—”

“Why didn’t you tell the super that the door wasn’t locking right?”

“What?”

“He could’ve come to fix it before someone broke in,” he throws in, that deep scowl on his face transitioning into something that aligns with rage. “Now I have to deal with this mess.”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in. “But I don’t see how?—”

He huffs loudly, interrupting me. “Women,” he mutters under his breath.

“Excuse me?!” Lucy roars and rears her face forward, and I have this impulse to hold her back. Not for her safety but for his.

“You wouldn’t know the difference between a loose doorknob and a flimsy purse strap. You probably tried to fix it with some nail polish or lip gloss.”

I take a step toward him, but Lucy’s hand cuts across my chest. “I don’t think it’smyresponsibility to make sure a damn lock is workingbeforeI move in. As the property manager, it’s your responsibility to make sure the apartment is move-in ready. And I believe the listing said ‘central air?’” She waves a hand to the lone window in the room, where a window AC unit is mounted. “There are a lot of defects in this place that needed to be taken care of before I was ever handed a set of keys, so false advertisement should be the least of your worries, but none of that falls on the tenant when all of those issues were present before I even set foot in here.” She reaches into her purse, shifting through her things before brandishing a set of brass keys. “Here,” she states firmly. “I won’t be needing these.” She slides the keys on the small kitchen counter, and the scrape of metal to laminate fills the tense silence.

“But you have a lease agreement,” the guy says, his name still unknown to me, and to be honest, I don’t think I care to know it at this point.

Lucy shakes her head. “It was a month-to-month agreement,” she reminds him. “Which means there is no obligation on my end to stay here. And since my first month is up, I think I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

The guy sort of gapes at her, and that scowl he wore so proudly has shifted into shock. “Bu-But you have to give a notice.”

Lucy smiles her sweet smile. The one that holds a few secrets and tricks up her sleeve. “How about you take this as my notice, and I won’t place a call to the city? That mold in the bathroom was getting pretty musty, and I’m sure they don’t need to know exactly how much of it your tenants are being exposed to.”

I cross my arms over my chest, and my smug smile matches Lucy’s. Lucy offers a wave goodbye with a taunting wiggle of her fingers, marking her victory, and we walk toward the door.

“And the communal bathroom was definitelynoton the listing!” she throws over her shoulder as we scurry down the stairs leading outside where we’re hit in the face by the late morning warmth. Lucy grips my arm, and leads the way, taking a few hurried turns until the building is no longer in view.

“Ohmigod!” Lucy exclaims softly. “That was exhilarating.”

“That was amazing,” I add.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest. I can almost see the adrenaline lift from her body like a rise of smoke. “Ohmigod, I can’t believe I just did that.”

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