Page 72 of Forced Into Your Arms
Milan wore jeans, a fitted white top and sneakers, with her hair styled differently than I’d seen it before. She looked less tired and more relaxed, although the second she spotted my truck, she folded her arms like she’d already prepared herself to argue.
I parked and stepped out.
“You’re late,” she said.
I checked my watch. “By two minutes.”
“Late is late.”
The leasing agent smiled nervously. “We were just about to head inside.”
Milan gestured toward me. “This is Vice. He thinks he’s security, law enforcement and building management.”
“I don’t think I’m shit.”
“Yes you do…”
The leasing agent looked between us, trying to decide whether we were joking. “I’m Angela. I’ll be showing you the property.”
I shook her hand before looking toward the entrance. “How many ways in?”
Milan closed her eyes and whispered. “Here we go...”
Angela pointed toward the front doors. “The main entrance, the parking garage and a service entrance in the back.”
“Cameras at all three?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Who monitors them?”
“Our security team,” she answered.
“On-site?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
I nodded toward Milan and smirked, knowing she hated this shit. “You told me to inspect it.”
“Yeah, but I did not tell you to interrogate the woman before we got through the door.”
Angela laughed, although she still looked unsure. “It’s fine. We get security questions all the time.”
“Not like his,” Milan muttered.
We walked inside, and I let Angela explain the building while I looked around for myself. The lobby was clean, the front desk was staffed, and visitors had to sign in before getting access to the elevators. It already seemed better than Milan’s last place, but better didn’t automatically mean safe.
Angela showed us the fitness room, lounge and rooftop before taking us to the available apartment. Milan asked normal questions about utilities, parking and the lease. I checked the windows, exits and whether the bedroom could be seen from the building across the street.
By the third time she caught me testing a lock, Milan finally had enough and said, “You know people usually look at the kitchen and closet space when they tour an apartment.”
“I saw both.”
“You haven’t opened one cabinet.”
I looked over at her. “What I need to see in there?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying.”
