Page 25 of False Start

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot as I slipped into my bedroom, but thankfully didn’t follow. My heart raced as I scanned the room for an answer to my current problem. A fully-packed bag for a cross-country road trip? Not a chance. The best I could conjure up was my game weekend luggage. I pulled it from the bottom of the closet and tossed it onto my bed. Inside, I had a folded suit and dress pants. I spilled those onto the ground along with all the Norwalk Breakers branded gear. Which left…not much of anything besides a toiletry bag.

Well, it was a start.

I pulled open my dresser.

Empty. Fuck.

“Hey, what day is it?” I called to Kit.

“Wednesday? What does that have to do with anything?” Her annoyance traveled through the shut door clearer than her muffled voice.

“Nothing,” I lied, collecting the nearly empty suitcase and throwing open the door.

Kit’s glare burned at the back of my head as I avoided her eyes in a mad dash down the hallway to the walk-in closet by the front door. The housekeeper I hired my rookie year requested the room, staging her mops, brooms, and cleaning supplies inside. And then the room became a catch-all for packages and fan mail that the doorman and my assistant would drop off to be distributed later.

I scanned the room, spotting a stack of neatly folded clothes inside a translucent tote.

“One second,” I said, stuffing clothes into my bag and leaving what remained a mess.

“You aren’t even packed?” Kit’s voice teetered somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. The tone grated on me, feeding my anxiety.

“I was learning how to drive a stick shift,” I snapped, grabbing a jacket off the wall. Did I have everything? No, but I could buy whatever I’d forgotten on the road. Probably. If Kit didn’t throw me out of the car on the outskirts of Norwalk.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “You learned to drive a stick shift last night?”

“I’m in the process,” I lied. I’d made it through all of one minute of the video before falling asleep, but I got the basics: press the clutch, shift, let off the clutch. Easy as pie.

“I’ll drive us until we’re somewhere more rural.” Her lips pulled into a frown.

I wasn’t going to argue with that. “Great. And then I’ll show you my amazing driving abilities.”

She scoffed, brushing past me on her way out the door. I locked up behind her, tailing her into the elevator just before the doors closed.

“Well, that’s an eventful start, huh?” I ribbed her side. Kit shifted to the opposite side of the elevator, nearly hugging the wall.

“Do we have time to stop for coffee?” I asked. She glared. “I’ll take that as a no.”

The elevator doors swept open to the lobby. The newest doorman, Jacob or Jeff, I couldn’t remember, hurried out from behind the desk. “Good morning, Mr. Vogt.”

He couldn’t have been older than twenty, a reedy, nervous guy, but nice enough. Though, this morning, sweat dotted his forehead and his eyes shifted nervously between Kit and I.

“Good morning, Jay!” I smiled, hoping I’d at least remembered the first letter of his name right. “This is Kit. Don’t worry. I know her.”

The tension eased from his face, and he exhaled. “I told her I’d call up to your apartment first, but apparently you’re in a rush?”

“Wearein a rush,” Kit said impatiently.

I ignored her. She could wait another minute. “Yeah, I’m gonna be out of town for the weekend. Keep an eye on the place, if you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Vogt.” J’s lips pulled into a smile. “And where are you going with your…sister?”

Kit glowered.

“We’re going on a little road trip,” I answered. “We’ll be back late Sunday. Or maybe Monday. I don’t know.”

Kit didn’t offer an answer to the question I pointedly didn’t ask. Oh well. Not like I had anything to do besides slow yoga, anyway.

His eyes ping-ponged between us, the smile fading from his lips. “Well, have fun?”

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