Page 12 of My Rock Star Neighbor
It seems she takes a few steps back because her voice is closer as she says, “Hi, Deputy Commissioner, how are you?”
Deputy Commissioner.
I try to peek around the edge to get a closer look at the guy she was standing with.Maybe I can follow up with him.I snap a quick picture before ducking back.
“Can I help you?”
We look up to see a woman dressed in a green suit with heels staring at us from a few feet away—probably to stay out of the draft of this odor.
“Good luck,” Nick whispers.
I put my finger to my mouth and whisper to her, “Do you see a bunch of female fans on the other side?”
She looks around the dumpster.“No.Just Ms.Beatrice and that contractor, Pablo.”
Pablo!
I limp away from the dumpster, and Nick practically runs ahead of me to escape the smell.
“I told him I didn’t think any of his fans were about to mob us, but you know, you never can be too cautious,” I say.
As she takes in Nick, she seems to believe my cover story.Nick definitely has rock star looks, with that wavy hair, along with those well-worn jeans that hug his hip bones.
“I don’t like to disillusion him that we don’t have to worry about fans every place we go, so I try to humor him.”
Nick shoots me a look that promises retribution later.
“But as I told him, it’s only Ms.Beatrice and that guy Pablo,” I continue.“I forgot his last name.”
“I only know him as Pablo,” the woman says.
“Has he done any work on your apartment?”
“No, he worked on my neighbor’s sink.”
“Was he able to fix it?”I ask.
“I wouldn’t recommend him.You live in this building?”She folds her arms.That question was bound to come up.
“No, I’m visiting a friend,” I say.
“We should go,” Nick says.“Before my legions of fans return.”
We walk away, Nick offering me his arm as he realizes I’m still limping.When we’re far enough away that no one can hear us, he shakes his head.“Wow.That was unbelievably smooth, Maddie Hughes.”
Thankfully, the escalator is working for our ascent to the 125th Street subway platform.
“Your rock star persona is really handy for investigating,” I say.“Now whenever I’m wearing a disguise, I can say that I don’t want your fans to recognize me as your next-door neighbor.”
“Ah yes, my fans,” he says.“The hordes that follow me everywhere.”
“That fan earlier was running at us like her life depended on it.Does that happen often?”I ask as we wait for the train on the outside platform.
“Once in a while,” he says.
I glance at him.“I would find it hard to give up my privacy.Do you consider it a necessary evil, or do you enjoy the attention?”
“Are you asking in earnest?”he asks.
