#27–Close Encounter
Jerry’s broad shoulders took enough space for two men and his deep voice filled the tiny elevator.
“Have you heard from your brother?” he demanded of Darryl.
Darryl pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked. “Nope. No calls, no text, no emails from Paul. Ha, six from my sister. I am so in trouble.”
He winked at me. I didn’t respond. Despite the fact there was plenty of room in the elevator Jerry had planted himself in my personal space as though I didn’t exist. I caught that quick flick of his tongue against the back of his lips, like a snake scenting the fear of its prey. His eyes checked my reaction, daring me to comment.
I hate bullies. Rolling my head back, I sucked in air in three jerking gasps and vented it in a wet firecracker of a fake sneeze aimed right at Jerry. Hunching over, I grabbed my nose.
“I’mb so shorry,” I said through my nose, “Preddy sure Bi don’t hab a cold.”
Jerry was now flat against the opposite wall. The doors rolled open and he nodded a good night to us as he stepped off. After the doors closed, I rubbed the back of my hand across my mouth, and then scrubbed the hand against my jeans. Darryl queried me with his eyebrows.
“It’s this reaction I get sometimes when I feel crowded,” I said. The doors opened at our floor and I hastened to escape. “Better not hold this hand until I get a chance to wash it.”
“What did I do?” Darryl caught up to me and unlocked the apartment.
“Nothing. It was that creepy man in the elevator. I need a little space.”
“Whoa! Wait a minute, sugar. I need to process this. We’ve been out all day, and you could hold my hand, hug me, sneak a kiss—no problem. We’re alone together and now suddenly—boom—you need space?” Darryl closed the door and hung his parka on a cow horn.
“Yes. Didn’t you see how that man was looking at me?” I escaped from my coat and from Darryl.
“He thinks you’re hot. Guys look at you all the time. That old guy in the museum couldn’t take his eyes off you.” Darryl hung my coat over his.
“That was different! He was obviously reliving his own courtship. But after being on the elevator with that creep, I feel like I’m covered in ick and need to take a shower.”
“Come on, Jerry’s just some guy.”
“He’s not ‘just some guy’. He’s a bad man.”
“Okay, so he’s pushy—lots of lawyers are. That doesn’t make him bad.”
“No, doing bad things makes him a bad man. Being cruel and manipulative makes him a bad man.”
“Tiffany! You just met him. You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know one bad thing he’s done.”
Darryl stared at me. “I think you’re projecting negative feelings towards him.”
“Projecting?”
“Yes, you had a horrible weekend and he startled you last night and you’re scared to be alone with me, so Jerry becomes this horrible man in the elevator giving you an excuse to run away.”
My confession, designed to bring us closer, had done the opposite. I grabbed his arms and pushed him over to the sofa. I pointed at it.
“Daimyo, sit!”
After a moment, he sank down on the sofa. “Will it help if I bark?”
“No, and no licking your private parts.”
