Climax

Midnight call - 3

William Bassio

He wasn't opening the door.

Why?

Was he really sick or did he see me and decided to ignore me?

I spent the remainder of last night reliving the call with fitting a face to the voice. I spent the whole day today wondering why he didn't come to the office.

Now he would not even open the fucking door. I checked the address again on my phone. It was the correct door. Susan swore she talked to him this morning.

I sat down on the steps. Dan's flat is the only one on this top floor so I didn't have to worry about running into anyone. I need some proxy to make him open the door.

A discarded small cardboard box caught my attention. Perfect.

I googled the closest pizza shop and ordered for door delivery and waited. Within ten minutes I heard footsteps.

"Hey," a teenage girl greeted me.

"Hi... that's for me." I stretched my hand for the box in hers.

"Not so fast, mister. Why are you outside? Locked out? How do I know that you're the person who ordered? What if I give it to you and somebody else calls the shop and complains that they didn't get their dinner? What if—"

"Whoa... here." I pulled out my id card and thrust it in front of her face.

She checked her receipt and grunted. "Enjoy your dinner Mr. Bassio."

I tipped her and took the box. She would make it big in whatever field she chose.

She grinned at the twenty and gave me a salute and wandered off.

I took the pizza box and put my hand out strategically so that the box blocked the whole view of the door lens and pressed the doorbell again.

This time the fucking lock turned and a voice came out from the creak of the door.

"You have the wrong do—"

I wedged in before he could complete his sentence.

Dan stared at me open mouthed.

I gave a smirk and looked around for a place to put down the hot box.

My jaw slacked at the small flat I stood in. It's a studio, with a single bed and a TV on the wall, a sink and a single coil stove and fridge. No furniture, whatsoever. Not even a chair or stool to sit on. Even though there was enough empty space for a couch and table.

I put the box on the stove top and turned back to Dan. My mind was whirling with questions.

Am I not paying him enough? What's his pay? His whole flat is smaller than my bathroom.

That thought made me feel guilty.

"Are you sick?"

He looked like he always did but in a loose nightshirt and pants. I had not seen him in anything but full sleeve formals. He shook his head and studied me.

"Then why didn't you come to the office?"

Sighing he went to his bed. I followed h.

"Why didn't you answer the door or your phone?"

"Look, as I said before, I won't tell anyone about last night. You have nothing to worry about. If you thought firing me would raise eyebrows, I can resign on my own. Anything else?" He looked so tired all of a sudden and sat down on the bed.

I took a step closer. "Why would I fire you?"

He raised an eyebrow. I blinked.

"Last night's call? Aren't you freaking out that it's me?" He asked.