Page 5 of The Import Slot
“Anytime, mate. Let me help you with your bags.” He moves to the car, where Johnny has already popped the trunk.
“Who did you piss off to land yourself here?” Danny asks as we take a bag each and head toward the lobby.
“Story for another time, bud. I’m wiped.”
“Oh yeah, no worries.”
He jabs the elevator call button and swipes a fob before handing me one, which I accept with thanks.
I jump at the opportunity of small talk during the ride up. “That your girlfriend outside?” Fuck, what a weird question to ask someone you’ve just met, but luckily, he just answers without second guessing.
“Who? Jen? Nah, she’s definitely not my girlfriend. We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s like a sister to me,” he says.
Relief washes over me, but I’m not sure why I care. I do know that I’d feel disappointed if I discovered that Danny had his hands all over her.
The elevator stops on the eighth floor—the top of the building. Johnny and I follow Danny and stop at the first apartment on the left of the stairwell.
“This is us,” Danny says as he opens the door. We stand in a sizable open entranceway with two doors off to the left. He beckons us in and gives me a quick tour. The kitchen, dining, and living areas are open-plan, and the floor-to-ceiling windows provide a magnificent view of the city.
“There’s a door around the side there, out to the balcony,” he motions, “and here’s your key.” He drops it into my hand. “Let me show you your room.” I follow him to the first of the two doors, and he opens it, holding his hand out to let me enter.
“This is great, thanks.” We dump my bags inside, before Johnny and Danny step back into the hall.
“I’ll let you get settled. Get some sleep, and I’ll call you later,” Johnny says before heading toward the door. “I’m just next door if you need me.”
“Get some rest, and then you can tell me all Cap’s dirty secrets. I hear you guys go way back.” Danny gives me a warm smile. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Closing my bedroom door behind me, I unpack the bare minimum before going into the adjoining bathroom to take a quick shower. I collapse into bed, grateful that somebody, probably Danny, had put the sheets on.
I shoot Liam a quick text before passing out.
Jenna
AssoonasIenter the office, I can feel the tension in the air. It’s already stuffy in here, the August weather is unusually sweltering, and with no air-con, it just worsens the atmosphere.
I flop down at my desk and fire up my computer, my legs still aching from this morning’s run. As I wait for things to load, I quietly fume at Danny. I should have known that he wouldn’t show, and I’d waited fifteen minutes before calling him in case he was running late, but that did nothing to pry him out of bed.
My mind replays the moments before I gave up. I saw someone coming out of Danny’s building I’d never seen before. I know there are a couple of apartments not occupied by players, but he was definitely an athlete and had hockey player legs. He had his dark hair cut short, and his beard trimmed, well-groomed, but still sort of scruffy. God, my stomach is full of butterflies now just thinking about him.
His jog was equivalent to my sprint, so I waited until he was out of sight before setting off in the opposite direction. Obviously, this meant that I had to watch him briefly; he was agile and light on his feet, probably from all the ankle work he likely does.
Realisation quickly dawns on me. I bet he’s the new import.
My phone pings, pulling my attention back. Fucking Danny, now he replies.
Danny:Sorry, Jen!! I suck. Make it up to you. Did you still go?
Jen:Yes.
I feel annoyed with him, so a one-word answer is all I can muster, plus an angry-face emoji. This morning was not the first time he’d failed to show. You think I’d learn from it, but being the forgiving person I am, I can’t hold a grudge.
I glance over the barrier, seeing Travis, the other web developer, sitting there tapping away at his keyboard.
“Oh, morning,” I say.
“Morning, Jen. I said it when you walked in, but you were in a world of your own.” Travis folds his arms as his eyes stay fixed on his screen.
“What’s going on?” I ask him.
