“What happened?”
“I had a little accident but I’m fine.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Winnie barked. “That’s right girl, he’s in big trouble.”
“It’s nothing major, just a twisted ankle.”
“Ryder said your ankle is as big as Simon.”
“Not quite.” He laughed.
“Do you need anything? Where’s Simon?”
“I’m fine. Chris and Trina set me up with some things and Ryder is picking Simon up from doggy daycare and bringing him home later this afternoon.”
“Since when do you send Simon to daycare?”
“Since he needed a bath and I was supposed to pick him up after work, but…”
“You’re home alone?”
“Me and my painkillers.”
“Not funny.”
“Ky, I’m fine. I’m going to take a nap and have Ryder bring me something to eat when he brings Simon home.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“What, dinner?”
“Funny. No, Simon. Tell you what, I’ll keep Simon. That way you don’t have to worry about him and…”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“That’s what friends do. Give me the name of the daycare and then call and tell them I’m going to pick him up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, and when you’re feeling better, I’ll bring Simon home. Maybe he can teach Winnie how to do that leash thing.” They both laughed.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll call you once I pick him up. Get some rest. Bye.”
“Bye.”
The black sedan pulled up in front of the Tribeca building and the driver got out to help the beautiful woman with the two little dogs. She walked toward the door and the doorman rushed over and opened the door, staring at her as she walked past him into the lobby.
His eyes were glued to her backside as she positioned herself next to his desk. He let go of the door and walked over to greet her. She smiled and he was instantly under her spell.
“Good evening Miss. How may I help you?” The chubby man in the forest green and gold uniform asked smiling from ear to ear.
“My name is Kyla James and I’m here to see my boyfriend, Sean Prescott.” The driver walked in with four bags of groceries and a small black suitcase, and placed them next to Kyla’s foot.
Stunned. In all the years Tommy has been tending the door at the Tribeca apartment building, no woman had ever come here to see the tenant in the eleventh floor loft, announcing herself in that manner. “Excuse me?”
“I’m here to see Sean Prescott.” She repeated the name of the tenant and followed it with a smile and a tilt of her head.