back,” he said.
“I’ll leave you a couple of these cookies just in case,” she said cheerily.
Eddie started off down the open corridor to the janitor’s closet to get the light bulbs, thinking about Margo. She was a pest in a lot of ways, but he’d worked for worse people. He wondered if she treated Anton the same way she treated him, always reminding him of everything twice, telling him the same things over and over. That could get to be real annoying if you were married to it.
The bulbs were in the top shelf of the janitor’s closet. He got down a package of two and closed the closet door. As he walked out, he checked the parking spot for room 173. Her car was there all right. He glanced at his list, hesitated, then stuffed it in his pocket. It would have to wait. He edged down the corridor and saw a crack of light between the heavy drapes and the window frame. Transferring the box of light bulbs under his left arm, Eddie looked around, then used his passkey to get into room 171. The room was dark, and he did not turn on the light. He set the light bulbs on a chair and headed for the closet.
He had discovered the secret of room 171 by accident. Some guest had complained about the closet bar being loose, and Eddie had gone in to check on it. It turned out that rooms 171 and 173 had back-to-back closets, but some joker had put a door into the wall between them. Eddie figured that it had to be Anton. The guy had to get off somehow. It was a cinch that he wasn’t doing much with Margo. Every time Margo maundered on about her dear, departed Anton, Eddie thought about that door, and the late, lamented Anton slipping back and forth between those closets. Eddie loved the idea.
You couldn’t use them that often—only when one room was occupied and the other wasn’t. And you had to be very careful. But sometimes the show was well worth the trouble. And he had definitely had the adjoining closets in mind when he gave room 173 to Miss “I don’t want any ice” Emery.
Eddie crossed the carpet of the darkened room 171 and opened the closet door, making sure not to jostle the empty hangers. Listening at the wall, he could tell that she was not near the closet. He undid the unobtrusive latch and pulled the door to him. He was looking into her closet. A couple of dresses hung there, redolent of a light, spicy scent. There was a pair of pants folded over the hanger, a couple of pairs of shoes piled haphazardly on the floor, and an inch-wide column of light that told him he was really in luck. Her closet door was slightly ajar.
Carefully he pushed apart the clothes, blessing the plastic hangers that slid silently down the bar, and let himself into the closet. He inclined one eye to the crack where the door and the frame were separated. His heart was thumping and his mouth was dry, not from fear, but from excitement. He was already feeling aroused. If she was anything like most people, she had immediately undressed when she got into her room that evening. Any minute he would catch a glimpse.
At first he did not see her. Then he heard the toilet flush and the tap running. A few moments later she walked by the closet, still wearing a gray dress, her only concession to comfort being her shoes abandoned on the floor, and she was in her stocking feet.
Eddie felt the letdown, and pressed his lips together so as not to swear. There was still hope. She might be going out again, but on the other hand, she might decide to take that dress off at any minute. And then he could watch her shimmy out of it, which would be even better. Of course, it meant he’d have to be quick about getting out of the closet if she decided to hang it up.
While he was considering his options, the woman seated herself on one of those stiff chairs beside the window. Both the voile and the heavy drapes were carefully drawn closed. She was not one to relax like some people, Eddie thought, sprawling across the bed in their undies or less. On the other
“I’ll leave you a couple of these cookies just in case,” she said cheerily.
Eddie started off down the open corridor to the janitor’s closet to get the light bulbs, thinking about Margo. She was a pest in a lot of ways, but he’d worked for worse people. He wondered if she treated Anton the same way she treated him, always reminding him of everything twice, telling him the same things over and over. That could get to be real annoying if you were married to it.
The bulbs were in the top shelf of the janitor’s closet. He got down a package of two and closed the closet door. As he walked out, he checked the parking spot for room 173. Her car was there all right. He glanced at his list, hesitated, then stuffed it in his pocket. It would have to wait. He edged down the corridor and saw a crack of light between the heavy drapes and the window frame. Transferring the box of light bulbs under his left arm, Eddie looked around, then used his passkey to get into room 171. The room was dark, and he did not turn on the light. He set the light bulbs on a chair and headed for the closet.
He had discovered the secret of room 171 by accident. Some guest had complained about the closet bar being loose, and Eddie had gone in to check on it. It turned out that rooms 171 and 173 had back-to-back closets, but some joker had put a door into the wall between them. Eddie figured that it had to be Anton. The guy had to get off somehow. It was a cinch that he wasn’t doing much with Margo. Every time Margo maundered on about her dear, departed Anton, Eddie thought about that door, and the late, lamented Anton slipping back and forth between those closets. Eddie loved the idea.
You couldn’t use them that often—only when one room was occupied and the other wasn’t. And you had to be very careful. But sometimes the show was well worth the trouble. And he had definitely had the adjoining closets in mind when he gave room 173 to Miss “I don’t want any ice” Emery.
Eddie crossed the carpet of the darkened room 171 and opened the closet door, making sure not to jostle the empty hangers. Listening at the wall, he could tell that she was not near the closet. He undid the unobtrusive latch and pulled the door to him. He was looking into her closet. A couple of dresses hung there, redolent of a light, spicy scent. There was a pair of pants folded over the hanger, a couple of pairs of shoes piled haphazardly on the floor, and an inch-wide column of light that told him he was really in luck. Her closet door was slightly ajar.
Carefully he pushed apart the clothes, blessing the plastic hangers that slid silently down the bar, and let himself into the closet. He inclined one eye to the crack where the door and the frame were separated. His heart was thumping and his mouth was dry, not from fear, but from excitement. He was already feeling aroused. If she was anything like most people, she had immediately undressed when she got into her room that evening. Any minute he would catch a glimpse.
At first he did not see her. Then he heard the toilet flush and the tap running. A few moments later she walked by the closet, still wearing a gray dress, her only concession to comfort being her shoes abandoned on the floor, and she was in her stocking feet.
Eddie felt the letdown, and pressed his lips together so as not to swear. There was still hope. She might be going out again, but on the other hand, she might decide to take that dress off at any minute. And then he could watch her shimmy out of it, which would be even better. Of course, it meant he’d have to be quick about getting out of the closet if she decided to hang it up.
While he was considering his options, the woman seated herself on one of those stiff chairs beside the window. Both the voile and the heavy drapes were carefully drawn closed. She was not one to relax like some people, Eddie thought, sprawling across the bed in their undies or less. On the other
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