Overnight Sensation(30)

Although the man in question looks to be about ninety years old. “Help you, se?orita?” he asks.

“I’m here for apartment 212. Bobby said he’d hand over the keys tonight.”

“Bobby?” The frail doorman adjusts his blue cap. “We don’t have a Bobby.”

“The superintendent?” I ask, my voice rising in alarm. “Big fellow? Earrings in lots of places?”

“Dios mio.” The old man shakes his head. “He have a scar right here?” He traces an invisible line above his eye. “And he advertise on Craigslist?”

“Yes! That’s him. Can you ring him?”

The old man shakes his head. “He don’t work here no more. Hasn’t for years. But he still has the keys. Sometimes he come back and rent out the places that don’t need renting out.”

“Wait, what?”

“He show you a place with somebody else’s stuff in it, right?”

My heart drops. “Yes. He said they were moving out the next day.”

“Se?orita.” The geezer’s face turns sad. “He always say that. 212 brought home a pizza two hours ago. They up there right now.”

“Can she check?” Jason asks. “Just in case there’s been some misunderstanding.”

He shrugs. “I suppose it can’t hurt nothing. Let me guess—you don’t have a lease with his signature on it.”

“We had a handshake deal,” I say in a quavering voice. “He said we’d sign it tonight.”

In stereo, both Jason and Silas make noises of dismay. And I have never felt like a bigger idiot.

“You just knock,” the elderly man says. “And if 212 answers, you tell ’em they need to have their locks changed. Tomorrow you call the precinct and report your money stolen. But he done this three other times and they haven’t found him yet. He bring you in the basement door, right?”

“Yes,” I croak. My throat is dry and tight and my eyes are burning.

A big hand lands on my shoulder. “Don’t panic,” Jason says. “Can you cancel the check you wrote him?”

My embarrassment is complete. “He said it had to be—”

“—cash,” Jason finishes on a sigh. “Oh, little buddy. Okay—listen. We’re going to get some Caribbean food and sort this out.”





Twenty minutes later I’m watching Jason and Silas devour braised oxtail and jerk chicken. And still trying not to cry. The food looks great and my stomach is empty. But I didn’t order anything.

Neither did Jason and Silas, come to think of it. The moment we walked in the hostess’s eyes lit up. “Good game, guys! And you’re here with us tonight? This is amazing! Sit sit sit. You need food?”

“So badly,” Jason had said.

The hostess—Clara—put a hand to her heart. “Let me just dash into the kitchen to tell them they’re not done yet. I’ll be right back to take your drink order!”

That was fifteen minutes ago. Since then, Clara and the wait staff have made a dozen trips to our table, bringing all manner of small plates and beverages. “And what will the lady have to drink?” a server asked at one point.

“I’m not drinking,” I’d said quickly.

They brought me a homemade soda made with cucumber, lime, and strawberry. I’m sipping on it balefully right now and questioning all my life choices.

“Okay,” Castro says, putting down a chicken bone. “That took the edge off. Now I can think.”

“This food is really over the top,” Silas agrees. “We need to come here again.”

“No problem,” I grumble. “The next time I’m swindled like a fool we’ll just drop by.”

Jason clucks his tongue. “You need some of this chicken,” he says. “It’ll change your mood.” He grabs a meaty piece off the platter and puts it on my empty plate. “Don’t do that dainty girl thing and pass up this food. And here—some tostones. Fried plantains.”

“It’s not a dainty girl thing,” I argue. “Jeez.” I pick up the chicken and take a bite. The skin is crispy and spicy, and the meat is juicy. I let out a little moan.

“None of that,” Jason says. “Now tell us what the hell happened back there.”

“Just a minute. I’m communing with this chicken.” Silas chuckles while I take another bite, and then eat a plantain. I’m stalling, because I really don’t know what I’m going to do. “I didn’t know how to find a place that I can afford,” I say eventually, wiping my fingers with the napkin Jason hands me. “So I took a chance on Craigslist. And now I don’t even have my deposit.”

I want to cry all over again.

“Weren’t you staying with your dad in Manhattan?” Silas asks.

“Yes. But he’s made a big point of teaching me a lesson. I can’t stay with that man.” Although I don’t really see any alternatives.

“You can stay with us for bit,” Silas says. “Right, Castro?”

Jason’s cocktail glass pauses halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“She can have the couch,” Silas says, grinning. “We’re leaving on a road trip in two nights, anyway.”