My Guest in Apartment 10B

An Unwanted Guest

Productive procrastination was a term her professor had used when he had described a better alternative to multi-tasking during Arabella's thesis year. He declared that multi-tasking ironically decreased productivity while procrastination allowed the mind to recharge itself and boost productivity.

Her productive procrastination was the fragrantly delicious lemon poppy seed muffins that she had remade earlier that afternoon. While she happily baked, the work presentation she was meant to be wrapping up sat in the back seat of her mind like a nagging product past its expiry date.

James arrived at exactly 6 in the evening, and Arabella suggested they play Scrabble together while she finished up the presentation. He marveled at the muffins and even bit into one, but the bitten piece just fell to the floor, while his teeth imprints remained on the muffin.

The next morning, Arabella prepared and left for work early. She scrolled through Richard's emails on the commute, one finger angrily tracing the thread while her other hand tightened its grip on the box of muffins she had brought for her co-workers.

When she finally arrived at the building, she ran into Macy at the lobby. Arabella started to walk through the ID scanners, but Macy motioned to her to wait, as she was on the phone.

Upon finishing the call, Macy greeted Arabella cheerfully and handed her a calling card. "A man came by to see you, but you weren't in, so he left this."

Arabella's heart dropped as she read the name on the card.

Richard Dickinson.

She stared at it for a long time, but began to feel Macy staring at her suspiciously. She quickly muttered her thanks and slipped the card into her pocket.

Worried, she went up to distract herself with work. She had a hard time focusing as she was constantly bothered by the idea that Richard had managed to track her down. The rest of the day was spent in and out of meetings and completing menial tasks.

She had only gotten a few minutes to sit and chat with Claudine, when she realized that the day was nearly over.

Even as she felt hesitant to leave the safe confines of her cubicle, she knew she eventually had to go home. Arabella got on the MTA and found herself constantly checking the crowd for any sign of Richard.

As she walked home, she repeatedly looked over her shoulder to ensure that she wasn't being followed. Arabella got to her apartment door, opened it and was relieved to find that no one was home.

The paranoia abated.

She was suddenly in the mood to make dinner. She started pulling out random ingredients, including a lovely chicken, for a dinner that she hadn't yet decided on. Out of nowhere, she remembered Bertie's comment about adding basil for flavor. "Oh yes, the free basil!"

Deciding that she wouldn't be gone for too long, she rushed out of the apartment without locking up and took the stairs to go down to the garden.

Humming absently, she spied Mrs. Rothschild in the garden, tending to what seemed to be a tomato plant.

"Mrs. Rothschild," she called a little loudly. The elderly woman didn't seem to hear her. "MRS. ROTHSCHILD!" She called again, shouting this time.

Mrs. Rothschild's ears seemed to pick up her voice, and she tentatively turned around, a welcome smile gracing her lovely wrinkled face, as she waved to her. "Oh hi, honey!"

Arabella stepped towards the lady and inspected the plant. "YOU DID A GREAT JOB. THOSE TOMATOES LOOK JUICY!"

Mrs. Rothschild looked like she was blushing. She picked a few and gave them to Arabella. "Have some! There are too many." She crouched back down and began to dig. "I forgot to pick them out this morning, and some are becoming overly ripe..."

As Mrs. Rothschild went about her business, Arabella saw that the basil plants occupied a huge corner of the garden. She walked closer and immediately, the strong sweet smell of the herb surrounded her, enticing her to pick some.

Bertie was right, this would definitely perk up the flavor of anything she made.

Tomatoes and basil cradled in her arms, Arabella shouted her goodbye at Mrs. Rothschild who continued toiling under the vines.

Arabella fancied a good pasta now, and this would be great with grilled chicken!

Reaching the 10th floor, Arabella juggled the loot in one arm as she pulled the door lever of her apartment. The sight of her brightly lit apartment warmed her tummy as she anticipated a good meal.

As the door opened further, the sight in the middle of her living room sent the tomatoes cascading onto the floor.

He stood ramrod straight and smug, facing her as if he had been a welcome guest.

"There you are. Did you miss me?"

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A/N: I apologize for the cliff hanger! It just had to be done! How are you all? What are your feelings regarding this story so far? I hope I'm still living up to your expectations :)

I've written the next chapters already, so as a surprise, I'm updating this tomorrow as I'm sure you're eager to know what happens after his arrival! I don't want to keep you in suspense for too long. haha

If you enjoyed yourself, please consider giving this chapter a vote. Do let me know what you think in the comments too. I take all comments seriously. I've been comparing how my chapters are doing, and with the exception of the first chapter, I've found that the previous chapter wasn't as well-loved as the others. I'm not entirely sure why, so if you have any haunches, kindly let me know so that I could improve it :)

Update: Edited May 4, 2020. To any of you who read this before, there was a big chunk that was taken out so this chapter now functions as sort of an introduction to the next one. Don't worry though, the big chunk wasn't anything at all important :0