Page 1 of Fish out of Water
Chapter One
Julia
THE SOUND OF banging sent me sitting straight up, jerking awake as the remnants of my dinner toppled to the floor.
Except for my bottle of water.
That tipped right toward me, spilling the remaining contents directly onto my crotch, soaking down the fabric of the palm tree-printed pajama bottoms I was wearing as my sleep-addled brain tried to wrap itself around what in the hell was happening.
I must have fallen asleep on the couch watchingFriendsreruns.
Again.
This place was wearing off on me.
I grabbed the plastic bottle and slammed it down onto the coffee table as I swiped at the water sinking deeper into my favorite pair of lazy pants. “Damn it.”
The knocking at my door got louder.
“I’m coming.” There was no point in the explanation. Whoever was on the other side probably couldn’t hear me anyway. Chances were good that even if the well-sealed steel didn’t stop the sound, a missing hearing aid would.
Mrs. Hill had already been to my apartment once today looking for help finding hers after it got lost in the shag rug she just bought for her living room, choosing the long white, hearing-aid-hiding pile because it was ‘trendy’.
I squinted at the clock as I passed.
Then I stopped and took a few steps back, giving it a second look.
It really did say midnight.
No one around here stayed up past nine and, based on tonight’s after-dinner crash that seemed to include me, so a late-night visit was a little worrisome.
I rushed to the door, snapping it open just as Mr. Frazier went in for another bang with the backside of his fist. He jumped back a little, eyes wide under his bushy slate-grey brows. “Why did it take you so long to answer?”
“Because I was sleeping.” I did my best to stifle a yawn that refused to be controlled.
A lot like the people that lived around here.
Mr. Frazier leaned back, looking each way down the open walkway connecting the two-bedroom units on this floor, before shoving his way into my apartment and closing the door behind him.
Things like this were nothing new. My neighbors were in the habit of showing up randomly, sometimes to bring me food.
But usually because they needed my help.
Normally it wasn’t at midnight, though.
Mr. Frazier’s gaze dipped down to the wet front of my pants. “They make things you can wear for that.”
“I didn’t pee my pants.” I walked back to snag a dish towel from the open peninsula between the kitchen and the dining area, using it to wipe at the cold, clinging fabric. “I spilled water when you tried to beat your way through my door.” I gave up making the situation any better and tossed the towel toward its home.
At least he had the decency to look a little sorry as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m in a hurry.”
“At midnight?” It was rare to catch anyone outside their apartment after nine around here, and when it did happen any rushing done was home to watch their shows before turning in.
“I got a phone call and I have to leave.” He shoved a paper clutched in his hand my way. “I need you to feed my fish and collect my mail while I’m gone.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
