Chapter 29
trigger warning: mentions of violence
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It's corny but true. Lisa woke with a smile on her face. Just like Hollywood, she mused as she buried her grin in the pillow, on which Jennie's scent still lingered. And then she resumed her routine. Alarm off, dumbbell wedging door open, pull up bar in place. Raising her arms above her head, she rolled her shoulders a few times before wrapping her fingers around the plastic grips.
One, two, three, four, five, six. She dropped to the floor, her arms aching more than usual. She had been doing two sets of ten pull ups for years. Guess I'm a little out of practice, Lisa mused, thinking back to the time she had spent holding her body weight about Jennie's. Her core tingled at the memory of the woman beneath her the night before. Reaching up once more, she finished the reps, gave herself a longer break than usual, and did five more. Then another five.
"That'll do," Lisa muttered, removing the bar and making her way to the bathroom. Shower warming, she peed and then climbed under the perfectly temperate spray. Cinnamon shampoo, cinnamon body scrub. A quick shave of her underarms. Done.
Wet hair wrapped in a towel turban, she headed for the kitchen and placed her two pieces of bread in the toaster. The dirty plates from the previous night were sat on the side. Lisa never left the kitchen anything other than pristine but Jennie's presence had distracted her. And now she was on a schedule. The dishes would have to wait. She pulled out a clean plate, knife, butter and the jar of blueberry jam. Hmm, running low, she noted. Next was the coffee machine. Cup in place. On.
She dressed in her usual work attire and dried her hair briefly before returning to the kitchen. Glancing at the washing up, she then checked the time. 7:44am. She definitely didn't have time to do the dishes. Their presence would remain a constant irritant in the back of her mind all day. Toast buttered and jammed, she picked up one slice and began to chew, suddenly realizing she was starving.
Once she'd eaten, she screwed the lid on her coffee mug and headed for the door, grabbing her handbag on the way. It was 7:51am. She was early. Eager. She knew who she wanted to see. Down in the lobby, she opened the mail, then closed it, then opened it. The box was empty both times. Stepping out onto the street, she was greeted by grey drizzle. The warm spring which had been developing appeared to be on vacation and Lisa quickly pulled out the compact umbrella she always kept in her bag. Popping it open, she set off down the street, eyes on the slick sidewalk as she headed for work.
Her usual six-minute walk took five and a half, the damp weather speeding up her pace and urging her back inside. Well, she may also have wanted to see a certain brunette as soon as possible. Before entering the building, Lisa performed her cursory glance around the street. Parked cars, the usual commuters walking up and down, a mother scolding her child who appeared to have jumped in a puddle and splattered grimy water up her pale pants. Poor choice of outfit, if you asked Lisa, especially if you put a four-year-old boy in wellington boots. Asking for trouble.
She unlocked the door to the shelter and stepped inside, closing the heavy wood firmly behind her. "Rosé?" she called out, noticing at once that the front desk was vacant.
No answer. She frowned and walked over, peering over the edge and spotting the woman. Fast asleep, head resting on a pillow made of her own sweater. Lisa sighed. Well, at least she was still here. And sleeping. Sleep was good. Although not while working. She circled the desk and went to enter her office but as she did so, she paused. The computer screen was black. Another frown. Inching her way behind Rosé's chair, she leaned over and pressed the monitor button. It flickered to life at once, the four CCTV cameras' streams neatly arranged.
