Worth

Chapter 14 (cont.)

When Violet returned home that evening, deskman Peter practically forced a new copy of the local Yellow Pages on her in spite of the fact that her arms were full of files from work and take-out dinner. Once inside her apartment she used the book as a weight to tame the corner of carpet that kept curling towards the middle of itself. She immediately forgot she had and tripped over it on her way to her room.

Changed into a comfy pair of shorts and a tank top, she now slid with graceful ease from the couch to the floor where she ate dinner at her coffee table, waiting for something interesting to watch on television. Spilling soy sauce on her bare folded knee wasn't an urgent enough reason to do anything drastic about it, so she got up only when her cell phone wouldn't stop ringing from the pocket of the pants she'd left on her bedroom floor.

"Violet?"

"It is."

"Hi. It's John again."

"John," she said, a little stunned. "How'd you get this number?"

"I took your business card."

Violet did not want to get too excited. "Is this a business call?"

"Monday night for a Christmas party? Come on."

"I did leave other dates with that number you gave me."

"You should have just laughed into the machine and hung up."

"But then it could have been anyone calling."

"So true."

"John, can I call you back?"

"Oh, yeah, if it's not a good time..."

"No, it's that you called my cell and my battery's dying. I'll just call you back from my home phone." She double checked his number and dialed quickly.

"If it's too late," he said, "we can talk another time."

"It's only eight o'clock," Violet laughed.

"I know how you homebodies like to get to bed early."

He was joking, but her comfy shorts doubled sometimes as pyjamas.

"Where are you calling from?"

"Tom and Joan's place. As a man of means I've suddenly become more palatable."

"I didn't realize it was a crank call."

"No, it's the truth. I'm upstairs. The lobby channel still works. Your concierge has been picking his ear for twenty minutes."

"You're at Leo's? Why?"

"Thomas and Joan want to sell it. They'd rather have the money. No one's got the time to sort through all his stuff so they let me do it."

"Without an escort?"

"Like I said, my financial situation has relieved them a little. I think it also means that for the first time ever I'm on the annual fruit cake list. Well, whatever it takes. Some things don't deserve to be sold off in bulk at a contents sale."

"I'll be right up."

"You don't have to," he said, but something in his voice was eager.

"Tell me what I miss on the lobby channel."

"All right, but go ahead and take your curlers out. I don't want you to rush."

Violet scrambled to throw on a pair of jeans and grabbed a cardigan to wear over her tank top. She made sure she had not rubbed her mascara all over her eyelids and spritzed on subtle fragrance. After tidying up quickly, in case John came over afterwards, she wedged into her running shoes without undoing the laces and raced to the elevators, hitting the up button about thirty or so times. She was thankful there weren't cameras in the elevators to watch her nervous lip tugging.