Page 59 of You'll Love it Here

“What are you doing?”

I startle at the voice behind me. “Jane!” I smile heartily while her eyes flash to the phone in my hands in confusion. She must be heading to work. She’s in a ruffled blouse with pink and blue dots and the type of slacks that can be washed in the laundry without wrinkles. “I like your hair.” I grin brightly. It’s now black and really shiny.

“Thanks, I dyed it yesterday.” She runs her hands through it, tousling the strands. “Why were you taking a picture of that gross lobby chair?”

I instinctively throw my hands behind me to hide my phone, then realize how shifty that looks and force my arms to loosen to my sides. “Oh, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were...” Her eyes point toward my phone screen. “I can still see the picture you took right there.” I hit the button with my thumb to turn my screen off. Jane gives me a strange look, then shrugs. “You know, Irene told me she can’t even remember when the chair appeared here. She reckons it was this weird-ass tenant she had in the 2000s named Billy who left it in the lobby; says nobody should sit in it too long. You know how fucked up you gotta be compared to the rest of us to have Irene call you ‘weird ass’?” Jane shifts on her feet and narrows her eyes once again. “So whywereyou taking a picture of it?”

“I wasn’t taking a picture of the chair,” I blurt before thinking, then realize I will need to clarify. “It was a picture of the lobby.”

Now a different question flashes across Jane’s eyes. “Did Irene ask for that?” Already, a curious twist in her expression.

“Not at all.” Shit. I can’t have Jane going to Irene with questions. In fact, I can’t have Jane tellinganyoneI was taking these photos—that could raise suspicions among the tenants.

I have to think fast. My eyes shift around the room.

The elevator dings and Divorced Dad steps out and nods once to both of us before rushing out in his bouncy fucking sneakers. He’s off to go get a coffee from Sami before his shift, no doubt.

Somehow, I’ve gotten all these people’s routines down pat.

An idea hits.

“Okay, you got me.” I lower my voice and lean closer to Jane. “I was takingsecretphotos of the lobby—as part of the panty-thief investigation.”

Jane’s brows pull together in confusion.

I hold up my palms in a hear-me-out gesture. “I’ve been trying to gather more evidence after we ran into a dead end—and everyone I’ve looked into so far has not given much away.”

Jane nods for me to continue like this might actually be going somewhere.

“So I was surveying possible areas where the panty thief might lurk before he acts. This chair seems a good, subtle place to wait. Right across the entrance to the basement. He might even rev himself up for the crime here.”

I force myself to lock eyes with Jane, who unfortunately looks back at me with genuine concern. “Mona, I appreciate all this, but I don’t think this is going to...” She shakes whatever train of thought she has away. “Maybe we should just do another undercover tonight? I’ve been thinking about it, and the idea behind it was right, but maybe we missed an angle. Maybe we can set up twocameras—one that captures the lower area?” She pauses, her eyes trailing over me with concern. “It would save you from having to do... this.”

“Great idea!” I say, because what choice do I have?

“Tonight?” Jane asks. “Monday is my usual laundry night, anyway.”

“Yeah.”

Jane grins back and her Apple Watch flashes. “I’m off to work, but come by my place at six.”

We make a plan to meet back up this evening. As Jane leaves, I keep my phone tucked into my back pocket, shifting to give the chair a wide berth.

This time I don’t even try to knock on Jane’s door. As soon as I’m outside, as predicted, she’s waiting to let me in.

But when I enter the apartment, it’s like I’ve never seen it before. All the crochet stuff, paints, and puzzles are put away, the clothes she’d had strewn about are gone, and all the counters and tables are bare and glistening. There’s even a diffuser giving off a lavender scent. It’s still a full house as far as decor goes, but it’s tidy. “Wow, it looks great in here,” I can’t help but say aloud.

As I make my way past her white kitchen cabinets—identical to mine—I notice her vintage coffee table is set up with plates of charcuterie and vegetables and a bottle of wine. Her cat eyes me from its usual chair, unimpressed.

Her eyes spark at my compliment. “Last time we didn’t do it right. We should enjoy the time while we wait.”

“Jane, this is amazing!” I mean it. It’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me since, well, since Sami brought all those supplies on our sick day. But I think of Jane going through all this trouble just because she busted me taking pictures of the lobby, and a pang of guilt draws in. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“It was fun! And this was the kind of thing I always wanted to do when I moved here.” Her temples redden as she smiles softly. “It’s just, finding people to have over is harder than expected.”

“Yeah, it is,” I say, but I eye her with newfound curiosity. I guess it can be kind of tough moving somewhere with no ties, but still—I feel bad she’s been here a year without really seeming to have anyone to hang with.