Page 3 of Devious Corruption

“Oh, no, nothing to be embarrassed about!” I smile down at Julie. “It happens a lot. I’ll get it cleaned up, and it’ll be good as new. Did you find the princess book you wanted?”

That makes her smile. “Mama said we’d get it after I pottied.”

“Okay, then, why don’t you go get it, and I’ll meet you up at the front of the store.”

“Max, I got the keys. No worries!” Joey breezes past us from the back office with my keys dangling from his left hand.

“Joey, wait.” I catch the woman in romance in my sideview heading up to the register.

“I’ll drop them in your mailbox!” He yells, then takes off, running the rest of the way out of the store.

“No, Wait—” I trip over a book that’s fallen off the shelf in the Historical Fiction section on my way to the front, barely catching myself before I faceplant on the hard woodflooring.

The bell dings over the front door, signaling his departure.

Muttering to myself, I pick up the paperback copy of Crime and Prejudice and re-shelve it.

“I found it.” The woman places a protective hand over the paperback on the counter as I approach. “Sorry for the mess back there. I stacked the books for you but you’re right, the display is broken.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that but thank you.” I quickly ring her up, glancing only momentarily at the title of the book before sliding it in the bag and handing it to her. “Enjoy.”

Her blush returns with her smile, and she quickly escapes the store. I wish I could join her, but I have another hour before I can lock the door and then I have to somehow fix the broken display and clean up the bathroom.

As I get back to the romance section, little Julie bounces up to me, carrying a book.

“I’m ready!” She sing-songs her words, and I can’t help but smile in response.

“Then let’s get you all checked out. Oh, that’s a good pick!” I tap the book as I get back up to my feet and walk ahead of her and her mother to the register.

It’s three hours before I’m able to punch out and go home. Add another forty-five minutes before I climb out of my car, thanks to a car accident that involved three cars and completely shut down traffic.

My feet ache, my back is sore,and my stomach is growling by the time I get to my mailbox. It takes a minute for me to dig out the little mailbox key that’s sunk to the bottom of my purse.

I’m ready for a pitcher of margaritas. My stomach turns at the idea though. Probably thanks to the too many margaritas I had when I went out with some friends a few weekends ago.

Okay, maybe a cup of tea and a book. A nice, long, dirty book. That will put everything right as rain.

Finally, my fingers wrap around the key, and I open my mailbox. After grabbing all the junk mail, and few bills I’m afraid to open, I realize there’s nothing else in the box.

There’s no key to my apartment.

I’m locked out. That asshole locked me out of my own apartment.

For once, I find myself hoping my brother’s record of being careless with locking my door continues to hold strong.

As I turn off the stairs onto my floor, Mr. Crawley, an eighty-year-old man who has almost no depth perception and the temperament of a Rottweiler yanks open his apartment door.

“Maxine!” He spits out my name.

I sigh, lowering my chin into my chest as I turn to face him. As soon as I do, I realize he’s holding Marion. My cat.

“Your damn cat has been roaming the hallway for the last two hours howling like a beast from hell.” He slaps his lips together then sucks his teeth. “I finally took her in so she wouldn’t be bothering everyone on this floor.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Crawley. My brothermust have not seen her get out when he stopped over earlier.” I reach for her; she’s already purring as soon as she’s in my arms.

“Your brother.” He scoffs. “That’s another thing. Those two always banging on your door.”

“I know.” I put a hand up to hopefully ward off his rant. I’ve heard it too many times to count. “I’ll talk to them again.”