Page 11 of Defending the Post
I replayed the events up to the moment I returned to my condo, including him leaving me hanging and calling me a weirdo. As I told the story, my temper flared, and I tossed my pjs on the bed.
“I agree, friend, he was an asshole, but I think he has a thing for you.”
I threw my head back, taking in the waffle shaped ceiling. “Marquise is a jerk.”
“A fine and rich jerk. Live a little. Have fun spending his money and building your career,” she said.
“How, he is mean.”
“Haven’t I taught you anything? Do the opposite of what you want to do, which is run,” she said.
“Goodbye, Dawn,” I said, and climbed into the shower after I ordered my dinner.
Tracking the delivery driver, my pizza was up the street. I already called the front desk to alert them, as Jhae instructed. With the number of celebrities in this building, walking up to the front door wasn’t an option. To get to the elevator, you needed a code. My stomach growled, forcing me to leave my room prematurely.
A scream ripped through me as I covered my heart and stumbled backward. My back hit the wall as my eyes registered Marquise sitting on the couch.
“Are you crazy? How did you get in here?” I questioned.
Marquise sat up and shook his head at me. If I wasn’t expecting a delivery, I would’ve been half naked.
“Calm down, Weirdo,” he said.
The loading screen fromBlazing and Gunsuploaded on the T.V.
“How did you get in here and are you playing my game?” I questioned.
“I have a key and yes, I’m playing your game.”
Before I could kick him out the doorbell rang. Both of our eyes found the door, but Marquise paused it and stood. We both darted in the same direction, but he beat me to the door. I reached for the handle, but he moved my hand.
“It’s my pizza,” I revealed.
The doorbell sounded again, and I tilted my head back to catch the scowl on his face.
“Do you know the delivery driver? No,” he answered before I could say anything. “Erin, let me answer the door. This is L.A. sometimes when delivery drivers see a woman living alone, they will target you,” Marquise said.
I stepped backward, surrendering my hand. Marquise opened the door, retrieved my food and stuffed my pizza box into my chest.
The move heated my core as my hands remained at my side.
“Do you want the pizza?” he questioned.
“Yes, when you hand it to me.”
His nose hiked as he snarled.“Fuck it, I’ll eat it,” he said, and walked back to the couch.
My mouth parted as I followed him, ready to reclaim my food. He sat the box on the ottoman, opening the lid before I could reach for it.
“What the hell is this? Who puts pineapples and banana peppers on the same pizza? Yo weird ass would order this shit,” he said.
I squinted as I reached for the box, but he moved it out of reach.
“Can I have my food, please?” I demanded with my hands on my book printed pjs.
He secured a slice and stuffed half in his mouth. I speed walked to the other side of the ottoman and he moved the pizza again.
“Will you stop playing with my food,” I said between gritted teeth.
