The Right One - Felice Stevens Page 0,3
deal with it.” Mike turned off the light and opened the door. “Let’s go to my office, and we’ll take care of the paperwork.”
He followed the agent out of the apartment, listening to him puff as he walked down the stuffy hallway to the elevator. Dust motes danced in front of his eyes, and the air lay thick and heavy with humidity. No air-conditioned hallways here. Sweat beaded on his face and soaked the back of his shirt. For spring, it was oppressively hot, and Morgan couldn’t wait to get outside and breathe the relatively fresh air.
A short flight of steps led from the front door to the sidewalk, and in his haste to get inside Mike’s cool car and stop choking on the thick, humid air, Morgan tripped and landed on his ass.
“Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Mike didn’t offer to help him up.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I can be a little klutzy.” He reached out to grab the iron railing to hoist himself up when a strong hand took hold of his elbow.
“Let me help,” a gruff, low voice said. “You might’ve twisted your ankle.”
Morgan gazed up into startling blue eyes that left him tongue-tied. “Th-thanks, but I think I’m okay.” He stood and took a step away from the man, who let his hand fall away. “It’s fine.”
The stranger nodded. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to sue the building.”
“Leo, this is the new tenant for 5C. Morgan Cantrell. We’re about to go sign the lease. Morgan, this is the super, Leo DeLuca.”
“You’re renting that one-bedroom?” A dark slash of brows twisted above those incredible blue eyes.
“Yes. Why? Is there a problem with it? And I’d hardly call it a one-bedroom.”
A dimple came and went in the hollow of Leo’s cheek with his brief smile. “Nah. You don’t look the type who lives here, is all.”
“No?” Morgan bristled. Just what he didn’t need. Some homophobic asshole getting on his case. “What type is that?”
Leo the super shrugged. “Guys in suits and ties don’t live here. It’s a working-class area.”
Relieved, Morgan felt his anger melt away, and he lifted his chin. “Well, I’m a teacher. And a regular guy. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. A regular guy.” Leo picked up the ladder Morgan hadn’t noticed until then. “See ya, 5C,” he threw over his shoulder and walked away.
“Ready, Morgan? I’d like to get to the office and send in all the paperwork.”
“Yeah, sure.” They walked to Mike’s car, and he slid into the passenger seat.
“Don’t let Leo get to you. He’s a little prickly but a good super. Keeps to himself, but if you need anything, he’s always around.”
“I’m sure I won’t.”
Morgan had no intention of drawing attention to himself. Once he moved in, Leo the super would never even know Morgan Cantrell was alive.
* * *
TWO
* * *
“Leo, is that you?” Fretful, his mother plucked at her cardigan sweater. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m here.” He had no idea why he kept coming to see a woman who never gave a damn about him, yet every Sunday he trekked to her house on the other side of Brooklyn. That afternoon she sat out on the back deck, beneath a shaded umbrella. “Where’s Natalia? Have you been doing the exercises your physical therapist suggested?”
His mother’s live-in aide had the unenviable job of taking care of her, and Leo knew she was nothing less than a saint to deal with a woman like Theresa. Even before her strokes and heart attack, dealing with his mother had been no picnic. Now? Natalia deserved a medal.
“She went to the store for a few minutes. And I’m too tired. Why’re you pushing me?” Her querulous voice rose. “You know I’m doing the best I can.”
Which meant doing nothing at all. For as long as Leo could remember, his mother had been a vain, spoiled, selfish woman who expected everyone, husband and child included, to wait on her. His father had died in a freak construction accident, working overtime to give her everything she wanted, but nothing was ever good enough. Nothing and nobody, especially Leo.
“I’m only asking. The doctors want you to keep moving.”
After her first stroke, his mother had been lucky and regained almost full mobility, which led her to ignore their warnings to stop smoking and drinking and start a low-sodium diet and exercise. The second stroke had hit her harder, and coupled with a concurrent heart attack, left her in a weakened state. Her doctors confided