Naughty Neighbor

It was six-thirty and the courtyard was dark.

She was the last one left in the office, and the exodus of workers had slowed in the outside corridor. All things considered, it hadn’t been a bad day.

She’d managed to keep her boss on schedule and lint-free through two luncheon meetings, an interview with a Post reporter, a question-and-answer session with forty fifth graders, and an afternoon tea at the Australian Embassy.

She felt the air stick in her lungs. “You listen to my phone calls?”

“Yeah, and it’s pretty depressing. Why don’t you move your phone away from the air duct—”

dates. Time to cut the umbilical cord, you know?”

Washington was cold in February.

Streeter grinned. “Must be awful to have PMS like this.”
“Ugh.” She smacked her fist against her forehead.

“Out!” she screamed. “Get out of my apartment, out of my sight, out of my life! I’m going to get Mace. I’m going to get a gun. If I ever see you again, I’ll permanently disable you!”

Louisa worked in the Hart Building, just north of the Supreme Court and northeast of the Capitol itself.