The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,39
her fucking shit again.”
Tean was staring; Jem almost broke, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Sir, I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“That bitch Edna. Her fucking Crown Vic is halfway into my goddamn parking spot!”
Frantic typing came on the other side of the call. “If I could just get your name—”
“Right now. Call that bitch right now and get her to move her ancient piece of shit out of my spot!”
“We’ll have someone move Mrs. Partridge’s car right away. And sir, we really ask our residents not to use that kind of language—”
Jem disconnected the call. Tean’s eyes were still enormous.
“Partridge,” Jem said.
“That really worked?” Tean said.
“People believe what they want to be true,” Jem said. “Or what they’re afraid is true. And you’d be surprised how many people are afraid someone is yelling at them for a justified reason. Come on.”
Rolling his eyes, Tean kept pace with Jem to the front door.
“Hello, gentlemen,” the valet said. He was obviously doing double duty as the bouncer because he stood as they approached and hedged their path to the door. He was probably in his thirties, round-cheeked, sweating in a red polyester suit that looked kind of like a bellhop’s uniform and kind of like an old movie theater usher. “How can I help you today?”
“We’re delivering a bouquet for Edna Partridge. Um, let me see,” Jem checked his phone, “a birthday bouquet. We’ve tried three or four times and she’s been gone; we called ahead this time, and the girl at the desk told us she was back from her vacation.”
The valet’s gaze lingered on the improvised bouquet.
“You ever use BioFlora before?” Jem asked, shoving the bouquet at the valet. “We’re a local startup. Biodegradable bouquet sleeves that actually keep the flowers fresh for an extra four business days. It’s this patented polymer—”
“Yeah,” the valet said, grabbing the door, his face already slack with uninterest.
“Hold on. I’ve got a QR code you can scan—”
“Not when I’m on duty,” the valet said, although it sounded more like, not in my entire fucking life.
Smiling, Jem nodded, said, “Thanks,” and headed inside.
Tean was staring at him as they climbed the fire stairs.
“Crypsis,” Jem said with a grin. “See? I remembered a new word.”
Tean was still staring.
“What?”
“Business days?”
“Huh?”
“Why would the patented polymer only keep them alive extra business days?”
Jem laughed. “I throw in bullshit like that just to keep myself entertained.”
Tean just kept studying him.
“Cut it out,” Jem said.
“Do you know how smart you are?”
“Come on. You’re going to make me blush.”
“I’m serious. You came up with all of that on the spot. And it sounded really convincing.”
“Um, yeah. That’s the whole point.” Jem pointed at himself. “Liar, remember?”
Tean looked like he might say something else, shook his head, and then opened his mouth again.
“You’d better just say it,” Jem said, “or you’re going to choke on your tongue.”
“I really think you should consider college.”
“Pass.”
“Jem, you might be the smartest person I know. You could do anything you wanted.”
Jem rolled his eyes as they reached the fifth floor. “Pledge a fraternity, play beer pong, listen to twenty-year-olds whine about getting cockblocked? I’ll just stick my head in a paper shredder instead, thanks.”
Based on the brief glimpse Jem had caught of the lobby, the fifth-floor hallway kept to the same style: buttercup-colored paint, gingerbread crown molding, tables spaced at regular intervals for residents who might need to steady themselves. Tiny ceramic figurines adorned the tables—children, dogs, cats. But mostly children. A heavy perfume of artificial lavender hung in the air. The whole place made Jem want to double down on the paper shredder.
The door to 5C didn’t look any different from the other doors along the hall: it had ornate wooden trim, a peephole, and a brass doorknob and deadbolt. Jem jerked his head at the door, and Tean knocked. After a ten count, Tean knocked again. They waited a full minute, and when nobody answered the door, Jem produced his picks. He knelt on the rose-print carpet and went to work.
“Is this a new skill?”
“I knew the basics, but I’ve been practicing.”
Tean didn’t make another noise, but he didn’t need to; Jem could feel the waves of disapproval radiating off him.
“I’m thinking of taking up burglary,” Jem said as he worked the picks. “Larceny. Petty theft. Grand theft. Grand theft auto.”
Still Tean said nothing, but he relaxed a little, and when Jem glanced up, Tean rolled his eyes.