"I don't know what to do. We have to be out of there."
"Do you have William-Jay's number?"
"Yes. But it won't do any good."
"He probably beat someone up last night! You paid him two hundred dollars and he never showed up!" Debbie was hysterical with the realization. If someone paid her two hundred dollars, maybe she wouldn't show up either.
"He said he has a hernia. I don't know what to do."
"We should adopt him. He needs a home and a family."
Sirens, screeching down Third Avenue, flooded through the five windows of the living room of Penthouse Fourteen.
"Who called?! Someone had to call!" The New York City police officer was fuming.
The peach marble lobby, usually vacant on a Friday afternoon, was crowded with Upper East Side guests.
William-Jay looked at Maxine. Maxine stared back at the two officers of law, befuddled at the mishap called Penthouse Fourteen.
"Do you know her?" the cop demanded.
The hefty Spanish woman, her mustache quivering above her thin lips, said no.
"Does she live here?"
"She hasn't paid the rent in three months!"
"I did so. I mailed the check last Tuesday!" Maxine's fair complexion brightened to a candy apple red. Her sultry blue eyes narrowed.
"Is this her stuff? Then why did you call? Do you want me to arrest her for moving her own stuff?"
"I thought she was running off without paying the rent!" the dark woman trembled.
"The doorman said we could use the freight elevator!" Maxine shouted, for the eleventh time. "We're having the apartment painted," she deftly replied.
"You don't even know her? This is her stuff? Then why did you call? There could have been a real tragedy, somewhere else in the city. We should arrest YOU!" the officer seized upon the idea.
The Spanish he-woman glared at William-Jay, all six feet of twenty year old boy, his baseball cap screwed lopsided on his head, its visor pointing defiantly at her. His small elegant mustache adorned his sassy mouth.
"Can we move in with you?" the officer propositioned the lovely Maxine.
"If I had my combat boots on, I would've dogged her," William-Jay said in retrospect.
0908D
(Who is William-Jay? Oh. He was our butler!)
