The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,37

left. A formal dining room was set up on my right. I spied a large rectangular dining table surrounded by at least eight high-backed chairs.

The front foyer was open and spacious, but a chaotic pile of little shoes cluttered the space around the door.

“My nieces and nephews like to leave their stuff everywhere,” she explained, noticing where my eyes had lingered.

Anissa continued to walk deeper into her home and I felt compelled to follow. The sounds of shrieking children grew louder the farther inside we went.

The front half of the house consisted of tidy, defined rooms; the back half opened up into one large, lofted space that included both the kitchen and a sunken living room. A large flat-screen television hung above the mantle of a gas fireplace. The vaulted ceilings had to be at least twenty feet high. Twin ceiling fans rotated the refrigerated air.

“You have a beautiful home,” I remarked.

Her house was more than nice—it was excessive, especially if she was telling the truth and was the only one who lived there.

“Thank you,” she threw over her shoulder. “My parents and siblings all live in identical houses down the street. I’m the only one with a pool though, so it tends to become party central in the summer.”

She dropped off her tablet on the granite kitchen island before continuing towards the rear of the house. She slid open the kitchen slider that led to an impressive backyard. A tall privacy fence wrapped around the perimeter of the yard. The in-ground pool was the center attraction. The light blue water bobbed as a gaggle of children laughed and screamed while the adults looked on from the dry safety of the concrete patio. I did a quick scan, but didn’t really observe numbers or ages or gender.

“Everyone, this is Alice,” Anissa introduced. “Alice, this is everyone.”

I heard a few hellos and welcomes, but I didn’t know from where they came. I gave a wilted wave in return.

Anissa didn’t elaborate on how we knew each other, and for that I was grateful. What would she have even said?

“Hey, everyone, this is that weird flight attendant I was telling you about.”

Anissa turned to me. “Would you like to borrow a bathing suit?”

“I’ve already imposed too much,” I resisted.

An eyebrow arched at my hesitance. “Still on your period?” she questioned. Her skeptical tone indicated she suspected I’d been lying in Philadelphia.

“No.”

“Then come on.”

Anissa grabbed my arm, and I had no choice but to follow her. She tugged me back inside her refrigerated home and pulled the slider closed behind us. I still couldn’t tell if she was happy or annoyed to see me, but she’d insisted that I stay a little longer, so it couldn’t have been too bad.

We made the trek back through her house to the staircase in the front foyer. She gripped her fingers first around my wrist, but then her fingers slid through mine as we marched upstairs. I took no notice of décor or room layout; my attention was entirely concentrated on the heat of her hand and the softness of her skin. It made me wonder what she felt like in other places.

She pulled me into a room at the top of the staircase. A king-sized bed took centerstage yet there was still ample space for various clothing bureaus and a free-standing full-length mirror. Anissa dropped my hand and walked directly for one of the wardrobes. I remained in the doorway, still feeling like an uninvited intruder.

“Is this your room?” I asked. The bedroom was so large, my voice practically echoed.

Anissa opened the top drawer of a dresser. She glanced briefly over her shoulder to observe me. “Yes. And before you ask, I don’t share it with a husband.”

“How about a wife?” I countered.

Her smile was more like a smirk. “Maybe someday.”

I rocked back on my heels and waited in silence. Luckily I didn’t have to wallow in my awkwardness for long. Anissa shut the top drawer and turned to me.

“This should fit.”

I didn’t much trust the crinkle around her eyes or her upturned mouth, but I accepted the proffered swimsuit.

I held up the separate pieces of the pastel yellow bathing suit in front of me. “This is supposed to go on my body?”

“That’s the idea.”

“It’s not even enough material for a pirate patch!” I protested.

“I guess you should have come more prepared.”

I opened my mouth to point out that I hadn’t intended on crashing her family’s pool party, but I decided against the complaint. I’d only