We flipped the mattress over so it now laid flat on the ground, and I felt like dropping on it and sleeping under the sky right in the middle of the pavement. The only thing stopping me from doing just that was the idea of Mr Umbrella finding me like that. Yeaaah, no, that was not happening, so I squeezed my fingers under the mattress next to Glenn, and we both pulled it halfway up the steps. Halfway because there was no way the entire length of it would fit. And to get it through the front door, we had to turn it to its side again.
I was sweating worse than after my most excessive workouts. If Glen had said I looked fine when she made her little hilarious memento, by the time we got the mattress to the corridor, I was an absolute mess. I know because she herself had looked fine before, and now... Well, let’s just say we both needed a shower – badly!
Wiping at my forehead was no use when my palms were just as wet. I could track droplets travelling down my back beneath my soaked shirt. No cotton bra this time, thank god. I was properly secured in a sports bra, but that didn’t ease my mortification when the lift dinged, and none other than Mr Umbrella walked out, almost colliding with my mattress.
That’s one way to get the man into bed. Just trip him with a mattress, that would certainly do it. No need for further conversation or permission at that. Consent was fickle anyway, I would know... No, nope, not going there.
“Careful where you put your—” His eyes travelled from the mattress parked way too close to the lift doors to me, and his furrowed eyebrows smoothed out, a grin blooming on his lips. Even his tone changed from annoyance to bemusement. “Oh, hey there, Red Cheeks. Didn’t expect to see you again this soon. Wet again, I see.”
I flushed the instant I felt his eyes on me, try as I might to hide from his gaze. Oh no, I was intensely fascinated by the pattern on my mattress. Had it always had thin light blue parallelograms on it? I can’t quite remember seeing them before. Fascinating.
“Red Cheeks?” Glen retorted, pinning me with a questioning stare that made my cheeks burn hotter. “You know each other or something. Wet again? What kind of wet are we talking about?”
Oh my sweet lord, take me now and spare me from this embarrassment.
“Rain, Glen, we are talking about rain. And sweat, apparently. And no, we don’t know each other ‘or something,’” I rushed to say, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
“No?” Mr Umbrella mock-scoffed. His amusement was growing by the minute. On my account, really. He was making fun of me the way boys often did. “I thought we went way back to the time you trapped me between the elevator doors.”
Glen gasped. “Hallie, you didnot! How have I not heard about this?”
“That was three days ago,” I mumbled. “I was hoping it had only been in my imagination.”
Glen immediately realised why she hadn’t heard about it. Three days ago was when she had her little meltdown, after all.
“Oh.” That one word was enough.
“Definitely not in your imagination,” Mr Umbrella replied, though there was a look in his eyes that made me wonder whether he wanted to spend time in my imagination.
I noticed he didn’t carry an umbrella this time, though admittedly, he’d given it to me. It was somewhere upstairs in one of the boxes. I had been wondering whether to pretend forgetting to give it back and keep it on display in my room to—I don’t know—torture myself with the memory of him. Or just simply go ahead and give it back, as was proper.
I made a mental note to return it as soon as possible. Oh yes, that would be better for my sanity. Maybe I could make him wait here while I went and grabbed it right away? Who knew, he might need it to keep his chinos dry. Never mind that the sky was a brilliant blue.
“So,Hallie,” he said my name as if testing it on his tongue. “What are you doing with that mattress?”
I did not bite my lower lip so much as chewed it raw. “Taking it upstairs, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Mr Umbrella echoed after me, his amusement growing by the minute, and I didn’t know what in the world he found so hilarious. Unless it was my dishevelled appearance yet again. He should be used to seeing me looking less than stellar at this point. I doubt it could get any worse than our two previous meetings, anyway.
I waved with my hand in a shooing motion to get him to step aside from theelevatordoors, as he called them, so we could continue our quest. “Do you mind?”
“Oh, you were going to use the elevator? I’m afraid that’s not going to fit.” He stepped aside anyway and even pressed the button so that the doors reopened for us.
My flushed face stared back at me from the mirror on the back wall and my stomach recoiled. “What do you mean it won’t fit?”
“I meant the mattress, of course.” His gaze flicked to the lift and then to the offensive object between me and Glen, a grin spreading on his face.
Of course, he’d meant the mattress, what else could he have—ohh... No, Haylee, he had meant the mattress all along, I was the one thinking about other things. There were no flirty suggestions thrown around in this corridor. Only in my head.
“You’re welcome to try, but I’d say it’s bigger than the six by six space. ”
“Six by six what?” I stammered, looking to Glen for help, who shrugged and studied the lift.
“Feet,” Mr Umbrella said.
I dropped my eyes to his feet clad in brown leather dress shoes. He was talking about feet and inches, not his actual feet, though. I realised that a second later. And yes it looked like a tight fit, but we had to get it up somehow so I was willing to shove it in, press the button, and then run up the stairs if I couldn’t squeeze in with it. Who was he to say my seer will wasn’t enough to make it fit?
“What are you, a mathematist—mathician—Christ.” My brain was short-circuiting. Must have been all those non-existent flirty suggestions it was conjuring up that halted my usually bright enough thought process.
