Page 36 of Dead Set on You
That same afternoon, he was setting me at ease—telling me about the HR manager who napped in the janitor’s closet and the accounts payable specialist who snuck toilet paper home in his trench coat. His office intel, peppered with jokes, made me lower my guard—maybe hedidthink I was KGB. Part of some elaborate plan to glean his own intel and store it for a rainy day.
Today’s more of a storm, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s whipped this morsel of information from his ammunition belt.
But he’s kept it to himself for so long.Thatsurprises me.
The elevator dings and the doors peel apart, revealing a lone occupant.
“Hi.” Charlene Baker, the lawyer who lives on the floor above mine, smiles at us. She steps forward, clad in her signature black pumps and YSL handbag. As one of the youngest Black attorneys in Chicago, Charlene is one person who I know has worked harder to earn her spot than even I have. We don’t get drinks on the weekends, but we grab the occasional coffee and chat in the elevator as our work schedules allow (not often).
I wave.
“Hey,” Rafael says beside me, and I remember that she can’t see me. It’s him she’s looking at with bright hazel eyes. I look from her to him and back to her when a second ticks by. Charlene’s grin is all straight teeth. Friendly. Inviting.
They know each other.
“Nice to see you back,” she says, slipping out of the elevator as Rafael steps into it. He keeps the doors from closing with an outstretched hand. She stalls; so does he. I look between the two of them, a little bit confused, which seems to be the flavor of the day for me.
Theydefinitelyknow each other, and I’m not sure how I missed this. It makes sense, though. She’s a lawyer. He’s a troublemaker.
“Char, I’m sorry I didn’t call after …” Rafael starts.
Charlene stops him with an upheld hand. “Please, don’t apologize.”
“No, Iamsorry.” Rafael offers an apologetic smile, which toes dimple territory.
She answers with a shake of her head, but something familiar lingers beneath the brightness. Something that makes my breath catch. Something Iknow.
A glimmer of loneliness.
In a blink, it’s gone, and …ohmygod, Charlene is into him.
I look between the two of them, speechless.
“Seriously, I should be apologizing,” she assures him with another megawatt smile. “I should’ve known there was someone else.”
The elevator doors push against his hand. “Still feel like a jerk,” he says, dropping his hand and stepping into the elevator.
“Don’t.”
“You should.”
Charlene and I respond at once, and his eyes dart to mine. I glare back, hoping I’m communicating that he’s an asshole extraordinaire.Assholedinaire.
“Door’s about to close,” Rafael says.
Charlene laughs softly. “I know how doors work, Raf.”
“I knowyoudo.” Rafael winks at her. “Bye, Char.”
The doors begin to slide shut.
“See you around.” Charlene waves at him before she turns and walks to her car. I stare after her. I wouldn’t have thought someone like her would be into someone likehim, someone who doesn’t even bother to learn the names of all the someones he’s into. Charlene can do way, way better, but she’s clearly been Vela’d.
I have so many questions, but mostly I want to hurt him.
“Rafael.” I turn toward the elevator—the one that’s gone up without me, with the man who’s most likely broken my neighbor’s heart. Of course he’d leavemedown here.
The elevator dings.
