Page 17 of Camera Stays On

“I—” Sawyer swallowed hard. “I was just trying to visit an old friend. Purdy, you tell him. I wasn’t doing any harm.”

“Purdy?”

I cringed at my old nickname and glanced at Dean. He crossed his arms, waiting for me to decide what to do. I glanced back at Sawyer, and he pleaded silently for me not to let Dean at him. Guilt over the size difference between the two caused me to defend him.

“He’s fine, Dean,” I relented. Sawyer’s shoulders relaxed, but Dean didn’t move. I turned to Sawyer. “But you should really go. I’m s-s-sorry, Sawyer.”

“After your shift? I’ll sit at the café next door and wait. All day if that’s what it takes,” Sawyer pleaded.

Dean stepped forward. “All right, you’re out of here.”

Sawyer raised his hands and turned, storming out. Dean followed him and, after a long moment, returned to the lobby.

“You want me to call someone?” he asked.

I considered my options and decided against it. I just wanted to be alone.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Dean.”

“I’ll be watching, if he tries to come back.” He nodded and went to do a round of patrol in the screening rooms. Once he was gone, I plopped back down on my stool and sighed heavily.

Why was Sawyer here? How had he found me? I’d been lying low all these years, only for him to pop up now? I spent the rest of my shift in dread. Sure, Dean was here, now, but afterward? What then?

Sawyer kept his distance, and by the time night fell and the cleaner came in for his shift, Dean came out to check on me.

“Are you going anywhere tonight? I can escort you there,” he offered.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m staying in. Thank you.”

“Well, lock the doors as you go up,” he said. I thanked him and watched as he left, locking the doors behind him. I turned and walked through the lobby into the employees-only back room. Inside, there was a simple door that led upstairs to a small studio apartment. I took the steps two by two, then locked the door behind me.

Studio apartment was being gracious. It was hardly a closet. I had a mattress on the floor, a hamper, a small bookcase, and a mini-mini fridge. It held six cans—or three cans and a sandwich if I needed it to. Everything else—a stove, toilet, and fridge—was downstairs in the break room. I undressed and lay down, ready to go to sleep and forget about Sawyer, and the question of where he was right now. I said a silent prayer to a God I never believed in that he’d be gone by morning.

Chapter 7

Andi

THE NEXT MORNING, I grabbed my gym bag and went downstairs. Creeping out the front doors, as if Sawyer might have spent the night on the ground, I relaxed when I saw he was, in fact, not there. Heading in the direction of the local YMCA, I felt a little silly, thinking he was going to push harder.

Normally, I worked out in the evenings after my shift, but considering how paranoid I’d been last night, I’d skipped my routine and gone to bed. Now I was here in the early morning, with only a few elderly members heading toward the pool for their water yoga class. I changed and went out to the main floor, stretched, then headed to the weights.

I’d started going to a gym after I moved to this side of the city—it was one of the few affordable things I found to do. When I first came to Chicago, I’d worked at a small grocery store. They paid me decently enough to afford a one-bedroom apartment and live frugally but comfortably. After two years they went under, and I had no choice but to find other work. Only—there wasn’t any.

I struggled for months to find a job, ultimately losing my apartment in the process. I was on the verge of homelessness when I saw a flyer for The Pink Curtain, a movie theater—and, according to the paper stapled to the light post, a historical landmark. They were in search of a “ticket girl.” No experience needed, other than to be pretty.

They did used to call me Purdy back home.

Wilbur, an older gentleman who’d inherited the business from his father, saw the desperation in my eyes when I came for the interview and offered me the job on the spot. I worked during the day and slept on his couch until about a month later, once he felt I could be trusted, he offered me the space upstairs, provided I lock the doors at night. I’d been here the last two years, and while it wasn’t the plan I’d had when I came to this city five years ago, I was okay for now.

My living situation didn’t have a shower, but the gym did. So, here I was, lifting some weights followed by a jog on the treadmill, then showering before my shift started. By the time I exited the gym and began my walk back to the theater, I felt refreshed and back to normal. Sure, seeing Sawyer in my world had rattled me, but he hadn’t pushed very hard when I said no, and I hadn’t seen him this morning. He must have really left.

A tiny pebble of guilt dropped in my chest as I thought of the look on his face when I’d rejected his offer. He’d been his normal charming self, and five years ago, I would have gone. I might have even left work in the middle of my shift just to spend time with him. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I’d left Purdy back in Collingwood. I was Andi now, and that’s how it needed to stay.

My shift was just another day, which I needed. I craved the routine and the comfort it gave me.

“One for the matinee, Miss Andi,” Kenny greeted me. “Long time no see.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Kenny.”