My Enemy Next Door Page 8

SEVEN, AGAIN

Courtney: Present Day

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I SLIPPED INTO MY APARTMENT at two o’clock in the morning—utterly drained from all the interviews I’d had to record today. My back was aching and my eyes were sore from staring at the screens for so long.

Quickly changing into my pajamas—a pink set of flannels, I fell face first onto my bed and thought about the one great thing that had happened today: Seeing the look on Jace’s face when his dry-cleaning company still hadn’t found his suits. (They were all tucked in my closet.)

Laughing, I rolled over and shut my eyes.

Just as I was about to drift to sleep, there was a loud banging noise on my door. And before I could even process who the hell would be banging on my door at this hour, a group of firefighters walked inside.

“Ma’am, are you breathing?” One of them walked over to me, yelling. “Ma’am, are you breathing?”

“Yes...” I rolled over and sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Ma’am we need you to exit the apartment. You need to take the closest stairwell down to the lobby. Do not stop and collect anything, just go.”

“What?” I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. “What’s happening?”

“Your neighbor reported a gas leak, ma’am.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, ushering me out of my apartment. “We can’t afford to take any chances. Out.”

“There is no gas leak.” I was so tired I could cry. “My neighbor’s trying to get back at me. There. Is. No. Gas. Leak.”

“Your neighbor is concerned about you.” He motioned to one of the other firefighters. “Tommy, carry her out of here.”

I bit my tongue the entire way down twenty-two flights of steps. When we reached the lobby, Jace was sitting at a table with a hot cup of coffee, smirking at me.

“Something wrong, Miss Ryan?” He smiled. “It’s quite late for you to be wandering around in your pajamas.”

I started to fire back, but then I noticed something. There were no other residents downstairs, there was no fire truck parked right outside, and the tell-tale alarms were silent.

How is that even possible?

A “firefighter” walked past me and right over to Jace, and I noticed his suit wasn’t even real. Then I noticed Jace slipping him a hundred-dollar bill.

“You son of a bitch...” I cursed under my breath, but Jace definitely heard me.

He stood up and had the audacity to wink at me. “Remember, you started this shit. I’m going to finish it.”

We’ll see about that.

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Several days later...

I WOKE UP SUPER EARLY so I could beat Jace to the firm. Lately, he’d been insistent on arriving there first, and I knew it was just so he could stare at me as I walked into my office.

Stepping into the shower, I turned on the water and screamed. “What the hell!” I jumped out of the tub like a wet kitten and wrapped myself in a towel. Putting on my “good neighbor” face, I walked over to Jace’s apartment and knocked on the door.

To my surprise, he opened the door within seconds.

“Yes?” He stared at my towel as it dripped water onto the floor. “May I help you with something, neighbor?”

“Is your hot water out, too?”

“No.” He shook his head and smiled. “My hot water is just fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I just tried to use it and it’s ice-cold.”

“Well, that’s probably because I’ve purposely used all of it, all day, every day, but...” He shrugged. “Then again, it could be something else.”

“You did what?”

He opened his door a little wider, giving me a glimpse of his kitchen faucet where a steady light stream of water was dripping into the sink. “It’s only going to be like this for a few more weeks while they fix the water features in the hallway. If you’d like, you can drop your towel and I’ll tell you whether someone would notice if you took a shower or not today.”

I screamed again and stormed back to my apartment. I quickly dressed and called the town car service. I made sure I had everything I needed and rushed down to the lobby.

I can use Mila’s apartment to shower and then I need to get his ass back for this...

The driver helped me inside the car and sped across town to Walton & Associates. The second I made it to my office, I hit the lights and prepared to slam the door—ready to block his “view” for the rest of the week, but the door was gone.

My. Door. Was. Gone.

“Looking for something, Miss Ryan?” Jace was already at his desk, smiling.

How the hell did you beat me here?

“Yes,” I said. “It seems as if someone has misplaced my door.”

“Oh, well that’s an odd thing to lose, don’t you think?” He stood up and walked over to my office, waving his hand in the space where my door used to be. “Perhaps you should file a police report. Maybe the same person who stole your door, stole my suits. Theft seems to be a thing around this firm.” He smiled his cocky grin and returned to his seat, staring at me—daring me to make my next move.

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