The Innocent - By David Baldacci Page 0,80

phone. He watched through the telescope as she put the book down, reached over, and snagged her phone off a table.

“Hello?”

“It’s Will.”

He watched as she sat up straighter and put the spoon down. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I’m just sitting here eating yogurt.”

“Fast metabolism? Cheeseburger’s already worn off?”

“Something like that.”

Robie paused and gazed at her through the scope. She was twisting one strand of hair with her finger, her feet curled up under her. He felt his palms moisten and his throat get crusty. He felt like he was back in high school about to talk with the girl he had a crush on.

He said, “You know, there’s a nice view from the top of our building. Ever been up there?”

“I didn’t think you could get up there. Isn’t it locked or something?”

“No problems with locks if you have a key.”

“You have a key?” she asked. Her voice was tinged with the girlish glee of having been told a cool secret.

“How about I meet you at the stairwell in ten minutes?”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“I don’t call people at two a.m. unless I’m serious.”

“You’re on.”

She clicked off and Robie watched in amusement as she leapt up and raced down the hall, presumably to change her clothes.

Nine minutes later he was standing at the entrance to the stairwell when she hurried up to him.

She had changed into a knee-length skirt and blouse and sandals. She had brought a sweater too, because it was a little chilly outside.

She said, “Reporting for duty, sir.”

“Let’s do it,” replied Robie.

He led her up the stairs. When they came to the locked door to the roof he pulled out his pick tools and in a short time the door swung open.

“That wasn’t a key,” she said, smiling in admiration at his skill. “You just picked the lock.”

“A pick is a key by another name. That’s as close to poetic as I’ll ever get.”

She followed him up a short flight of stairs and through another doorway. The rooftop was flat and coated with a sealed asphalt top coat. It radiated a slight warmth.

Robie pulled out a bottle of wine from under his jacket.

“Hope you like red.”

“I love red. Are we going to take turns chugging from the bottle?”

From his pocket he produced two plastic wineglasses.

He uncorked the bottle and poured out the wine.

They stood by the edge of the roof and rested their arms and glasses on the chest-high wall of the building.

“It is a beautiful view,” said Lambert. “I guess I never thought about there being one from here. I just look out my window and see the building across the street.”

Robie felt a pang of guilt as he thought about his vantage point from that building into her apartment. “Every place has a view,” he said hesitantly. “Some are just better than others.”

“Hey, that was poetic,” she said nudging him with her elbow.

The wind blew gently across them as they sipped their wine and talked. The conversation was innocuous and yet helped to deliver a bit of a respite, of peace, to Robie. He had no time to be doing something like this, which was one reason why it was so important to do it.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” said Lambert.

“I’ve come up here before, but not with anyone else.”

“I feel honored, then,” she said. She looked out once more at the surrounding area. “It seems like this would be a good place to come and think.”

“I can show you how to pick a lock,” he said.

She smiled. “That might come in handy, actually. I’m always forgetting my keys.”

Another thirty minutes passed and Robie said, “Well, I guess we should call it a night.” He looked at his watch. “And you might as well shower and get ready for work. I guess you don’t need much sleep.”

“Look who’s talking.”

He walked her back to her apartment. She turned and said, “I really enjoyed this.”

“So did I.”

“I haven’t met many people since I’ve been here.”

“It’ll happen. Just takes time.”

“I meant that I’m really glad I met you.”

She kissed him on the lips, letting her fingers linger against his chest.

“Good night,” she said.

After she went inside Robie stood there. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Well, maybe he only hadn’t felt it in a really long time.

Finally, he turned and walked off, more confused and unsure of himself than ever.

CHAPTER

55

ROBIE GOT BACK to the other building a few minutes later. Part of him wanted to look at Lambert

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