The fact that the entryway light was burned out was not really a big deal. At least it wouldn't be a big deal if she hadn't had that last drink. Renn couldn't even remember the last time she drank four margaritas in one night. And when she realized that her key was not in her hand as she walked to her neat little town home, Renn remembered why she always stopped at two mixed drinks. If not for that last margarita, she would have held that key in her slender, manicured hand as she walked up the stone path to her door. She would have used the little flashlight on the key chain to help her locate the lock and open the front door of her home. Because of that last mixed drink-- nothing was going as planned this evening. No matter how many times she searched through her little purse, the keys did not magically appear.
Renn blew her bangs out of her eyes and sighed. This was so atypical for her. She was a person who prided herself on being in control at all times. Her desk at work was always neat and tidy, even at the end of a 10-hour day. She knew where to find any utensil in her bright sunny kitchen and had a place for everything in general. She knew the beaded gold evening bag was only large enough to hold her ID, lipstick, some cash and her keys. Only the keys weren't there. After rummaging through the bag once more, the cum laude graduate came to a brilliant conclusion and mumbled, "Ah, damn! I must have left them in the car." The pause between forming that conclusion and devising a plan of action seemed terribly long. Eventually the idea came to her, through the fog in her tequila soaked brain, that she should walk back to the smart little blue Accord and check to see if the keys were still in it.
Executing what she hoped was a graceful pivot, the 25 year old started for the parking lot. Her neighbor watched from the sidewalk. From Jared's point of view graceful was the last word to describe her movements. The girl was drunk. Not quite falling down drunk, but way past witty and charming. Her lack of co-ordination was kind of cute and he appreciated the way her tight ass moved in that short blue skirt. He'd always thought of his neighbor as a sexless woman, driven by her job and ambition. There were never guests at her home. Not once had he seen her on the front porch exchanging a lingering kiss with an attractive date. To Jared's knowledge she had no social life. But this woman, this Renn in her short, sassy dress, obviously knew how to party. Jared had to assume she knew how to have sex as well. It was an interesting thought. Even before he watched as she poured herself out of the sensible sedan in parking space 505, Renn and sex were linked in his mind this Friday. With a smile in his voice Jared called, "Renn?"
It took two more tries before the woman looked up. Jared noted the little panic in her eyes and held up the leash in his right hand. "Hey, it's Jared from next door. I was just walking my dog." He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and nudged his companion at the other end of the leash. "Look innocent," he instructed the dog. With his tongue hanging out, Captain looked more stupid than innocent. Still Renn's whole body relaxed and Jared guessed that as a pair he and the German shepherd looked benign. That was good. It would not do for his neighbor to be wary of him tonight.
Renn had been startled at her neighbor's appearance. She rarely saw any of her neighbors, except in passing. The southern penchant for neighborly chats and friendly waves in the early evening, or along the jogging trail, had always eluded her. The Boston native moved to Charleston right after graduating from law school. But she was still a Northern transplant who never quite adjusted to the slower pace of life in South Carolina. For just a moment when she turned, Jared had a predatory look to his face. But that was silly. They'd shared a common wall for several years now. And she was more flattered than alarmed that he gave her the once-over while he and the dog ambled to the parking lot.
