Wednesday morning, Steve ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to Sienna Ciccone at her apartment on Vermont. Might as well go all the way. It could be his one and only shot.
He went down to the bench in the courtyard of the apartment building and fed Nick Nolte a small bowl of milk. Mrs. Stanky yelled at him from her ground-floor apartment window. She didn’t want that cat around. Steve smiled and waved, like someone who spoke English as a second language.
The boy from number ten, on the other side of the courtyard, was pedaling his tricycle around the perimeter, going for a land speed record. His name was Ramon and he lived with his mother. His mother was gone a lot. Ramon was too young to be left alone. Steve checked the apartment every now and then. Ramon was usually glad to see him, unless cartoons were on TV.
Then he heard: “Hey, what up?”
It was the guy from number seven, the little gangsta. He was smiling stupidly at Steve, his eyes with the red rims of the newly high. Short, maybe five seven in his socks, he wore an oversized jacket and low-riding jeans that bunched up over his white Converse sneaks.
Steve nodded, then looked back at Nick. He was in no mood for a conversation with Number Seven, which suddenly struck him as a perfect name for a rapper. Numba Sev’n.
Just shoot me now, Steve thought.
“Lissen up, we got to talk.” Numba sat on the bench.
“Who invited you to sit down?” Steve said.
Numba’s stupid smile melted into attitude. “What up with you?”
“Why don’t you quit pretending you’re from Compton? You have something to say, say it and then move along.”
“Oh man, you are trippin’.”
“Don’t say trippin’.”
“Don’t tell me how to talk, dog.”
“Don’t say dog.”
“You don’t even know what I want.”
“Whatever it is, I’m not buying.”
“Don’t know about that.” His smile came back. “I can take care of you.”
“Excuse me?”
Numba looked around, then whispered, “Set you up. Get you what you need.”
A skin-tightening jolt hit the back of Steve’s neck. “You have no idea what I need.”
“I do, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend.”
Numba wrinkled his nose and made a sniffing sound.
Steve jumped off the bench. His foot hit the dish of milk. Nick Nolte jumped a foot in the air.
Grabbing two handfuls of Numba’s jacket, Steve pulled the kid to his feet. “Who told you?”
“Get your hands — ”
“Who?”
The gangsta in training tried to shake loose, but Steve was able to keep hold. “I don’t have to tell you nothin’.”
“Stop that right now!” Mrs. Stanky yelled from the window.
The distraction got Steve to loosen his grip enough for Numba to jerk free. He stepped back, bumped into the bench, recovered, and pointed at Steve. Didn’t say anything. Just tried to screw his face into a menacing expression.
Then he turned his back and went off toward his apartment.
“That was a very bad thing to do!” Mrs. Stanky said.
Steve picked Nick Nolte up by the back of the neck, walked to Mrs. Stanky’s window. Before he could say anything Nick put his paws out and clawed the screen. Mrs. Stanky yelped and took a step away from the window.
“Get him away from here!” she said.
Steve pulled Nick Nolte to his chest, where the cat relaxed. “Don’t get excited, Mrs. Stanky. Breathe easy.”
“Don’t tell me how to breathe!”
That wasn’t all he wanted to tell her. He walked away before he lost it completely.
He’d cooled off by five o’clock. All seemed quiet for once on the apartment grounds. Nobody screaming at him or getting in his face. He was getting tired of the flotsam and jetsam of society floating into the Valley, into his very apartment building.
He missed the Altadena house. It was a place with a lawn, his own place. He and Ashley hadn’t been too unhappy together, had they?
Yeah, they had, thanks to him.
With the LaSalle money, if it kept up, maybe he could put a down payment on another house, or at least a condo. He had to get out of the Sheridan Arms before he went nuts. So maybe there were some unresolved questions about Eldon LaSalle, so what? How much did you ever know about any client?
Traffic was heavy through the Cahuenga Pass and past Hollywood, but Steve managed to get to Sienna’s apartment a little before six.
She was waiting outside, talking on her cell phone. She saw him and gestured she’d be just a moment.
Giving Steve time to appreciate her all over again. He knew he was on major rebound. He knew he was doing this to cover the pain of the breakup with Ashley. And he knew he didn’t care.