Yup. That was what I was going to do.
As I lay on my floor, staring at my ceiling, two thoughts crossed my mind. The first led to the second. My neighbor. He was my first plan. I conjured up his looks that were still fresh in my memory and thought of how strong his hands looked to match the muscles that rippled on his chest. I wondered how those strong hands would feel on my body and what color his eyes were. Not that it was important. The rest of him was so sexy I truly wasn't going to be fixated on the color of his eyes. Then I thought about my birthday cake. It was going to be my emotional substitute for losing Steve. Not that he was mine to take, ouch, that hurt finding that out a bit too late. However, I wanted some leftover cake to eat, sober... perhaps while catching the next naked show of my neighbor.
Chapter Three
The day was cloudless, and the sun had heated it up to a nice warm seventy degrees so far with an expected high in the eighties. I dressed in my 'let's go to the bar' jeans, since everything else was dirty. I put on a purple lace bra to encase my size C cup girls. They were always happier in something pretty. I didn't have a single pair of underwear left that was clean, unless I wanted to wear my thong underwear. That, I usually saved for fun date nights, like I use to have with Steve. That thought caught a hitch in my breath. I threw my shoulders back, my head high and dug in my closet for a top to wear. I picked out a purple Colorado Rockies tee shirt I liked to wear to the ball games I went to with my dad. Slipped on my matching purple flip-flops. I like to color coordinate my casual clothes, so sue me, besides, my mani-pedi, required flip-flops.
I grabbed my overstuffed, oversized laundry basket, roll of quarters and headed for the basement laundry room in my apartment.
The elevator was taking forever, and I didn't want to carry my laundry basket down in flip-flops. I had done that once and spilled laundry on the stairs in front of old man McCarty. That was not a good idea. He about had a heart attack at the sight of my bras and underwear spewed out in his doorway. I guess if I hadn't made such a god-awful sound, he wouldn't have come out of his apartment to find all of it.
I set my basket down and got my cell phone out of my purse. I texted Marion that I was good now. Laundry day and pedicure, and I was good to go. I didn't mention the cake. I would save that for a girl's night out moment, along with new naked neighbor, singing in my apartment drunk and the slipping on spilled drink moment. I would be sure to not leave out my mom's message because Marion always had a way of making me see things in a less hurtful perspective. It wasn't always true, but it helped to hear it from my best friend any ways.
By the time I slipped my phone back in my purse, the elevator dinged, and when it opened, I was not prepared for who would be inside of it. There, staring down at his phone was my neighbor. He looked up, just as I wanted to run back inside of my apartment. He stepped out, said good morning, grabbed my laundry basket and made a casual note that it must be laundry day.
I stood there feeling awkward and then while he was holding the elevator door open for me to step inside, it started to ding an alert. "Better hop on in before it breaks down again." His smooth sexy voice matched his body, and I was in some serious womanly trouble. I took a step inside and feigned a smile that did not match how I felt. I felt some serious sexual vibes, and my nerves were not up to the task this morning. Then he said something that was so romantic I whirled around like a ballerina, internally any ways. "Although, being stuck in a broken-down elevator with someone like you would be alright."
Of course, the first thing I said to him, but more out loud to myself, made absolutely no sense to him as I let it come out all breathy and unbelievable.