“There’s a TV in the living room.” She nodded toward it. “And upstairs there’s a TV in the bedroom, and I think the internet’s hooked up in the office upstairs too.”
“I need to start with the network box.”
“I don’t know what that is, or where it is.”
He smiled. “They’re usually in the basement. I can find it if you show me the way.”
After pointing to the basement door, Laila returned to the sofa. She tried to resume reading but couldn’t, not while she could hear him working. She started to text Darrell to let him know what was happening but stopped. Why not wait until it was fixed, or let him be surprised when he got home? It wasn’t long before she heard the clink of his tool belt as Zoran Volk climbed the stairs.
“Hello?” he said before finding her in the living room.
“Right here.”
“It’s all good down there now.”
“Great.”
“I need to check the other connections. I’ll work on the TV here, then go upstairs.”
“Sure. I got some things to do in the kitchen.”
The house had an open concept. While farther from him, Laila could still see him in the living room as she took inventory of the contents of the fridge, cupboards, and the pantry to make a grocery list.
“—get on the road to success with the new—”
“—Don’t miss the next episode of—”
“—are you certain of the diagnosis, Doctor—”
The TV had come to life. Laila went to the living room. He handed her the remote, and she flipped through some channels before shutting it off.
“This is great. Thanks.”
“I’ve got to check your connections upstairs. You said you had two?”
“But it’s fixed?”
“I have to be thorough, make sure a problem in the system doesn’t reoccur.”
Laila didn’t feel comfortable and suddenly remembered the laundry, which had slipped her mind.
“Well, things are a mess up there.”
“There isn’t anything I haven’t seen. My supervisor’s been—” he started then caught himself. “Ma’am, it’s my job. I gotta check.”
“Sure.”
She led him upstairs to her cluttered home office and the bedroom where the clothes she’d taken out of the dryer earlier were still in the laundry basket, waiting on the bed to be put away.
“That is one huge bed,” he said. “What kind is it?”
“It’s a Texas King.”
His voice lowered, as if talking to himself. It sounded like he said: “I bet you have a lot of fun on it...”
“Excuse me?” Laila looked at him.
An icy second passed between them then her phone rang, and she pushed her attention to it. The number came up for Laila’s downtown office. “I’ll take this in my office. I have to move stuff around my computer out of the way for you anyway.” She looked at him with a flicker of bewilderment as her phone continued ringing.
“Sure, I’ll start here,” he said.
She nodded.
Stepping into her office, she answered her phone. It was her girlfriend, Carlotta, and while still taken aback by what she’d thought the cable guy had said, Laila welcomed her call.
“Hey, Laila, I just had to call you. You won’t believe what bossy pants did today...”
Phone to her ear, she turned to close the office door.
She had nearly shut it all the way when she froze.
She couldn’t believe what she saw in her bedroom.
“Oh my God!”
The cable guy had reached into the laundry basket, plucked out Laila’s underwear, then pressed his nose into it, sniffing it before putting it back.
Laila turned her back and stepped farther into her office.
“What? What is it, Laila?” Carlotta asked.
Grappling to think, she said, “I spilled my coffee. It went everywhere.”
“Oh no! Why don’t you call me back?”
“I’m sorry, Carlotta.”
“No worries. Call me when you can.”
Laila cupped her hands over her mouth, not believing what she’d seen.
Standing there for a long moment, taking deep breaths, she tried to think. Her eyes went to her scissors. She slid them into her pocket then cleared the clutter from her desk. She opened her office door to leave and caught her breath.
He was standing there.
“Done in the bedroom.”
“Sure.” She pointed to her computer. “There you go. I’ll wait downstairs for you to finish.”
Laila hurried down the steps, her mind racing.
Oh God, oh God. I want him out!
She went to the closet near the garage door and rummaged through a drawer filled with small tools, batteries, string, and all kinds of tape. She hated guns. There were no guns in her house. Darrell had got her a key-chain mini can of pepper spray last year for Christmas. Laila found it and clenched it in her hand.
Stay calm. Be cool. He likely doesn’t know I saw him. Go through the motions and get him out.
She was near the door when she heard his tool belt as he descended the stairs.
“All done. You’re all good,” he said.
“Thank you.” She opened the door for him. “Thank you very much.”
“One last thing,” he said. “I need you to sign my job sheet. Tablet’s in my truck.”
“I’ll walk out with you.”
He opened the passenger door of his truck, got his tablet, began typing several commands, then turned the screen to her. He extended a stylus pen.
“At the bottom,” he said, holding the tablet for her.
Laila signed, hoping he couldn’t see the pepper spray she was concealing in one hand. She held out the pen for him. Taking it, he brushed his fingers over hers, sending a shiver coiling up her spine.
“You got a nice house,” he said.
“Thanks.” She tightened her grip on the pepper spray.
“A real nice house and that bed—wow.”
He tossed the tablet in his truck, walked around, climbed in, switched off his flashing light, started it, then backed out of the driveway, waving at Laila standing there, watching until he vanished down the street.