Page 31 of Worth Every Penny

She sounds resigned to her fate, and the frustration in her voice makes me want to laugh.Is she on the phone?I wait for her to speak again, but she’s silent. I catch sight of her phone by the sink. Nope; she’s alone.

“I know you’re out there,” she yells. “I heard footsteps. Help me, you motherfucker.”

Motherfucker? You’d think she knows it’s me out here.

“Kate?”

The noise stops entirely.

I step closer to the door. “Do you need help?”

For a few moments, she says nothing.

While I wait, I pick up one of her shoes and lean back against the sink. The shoe looks almost new. Soft leather, with supple soles. High quality. She must have splashed out on these. A present for herself, perhaps? I check the brand, only to find my friend’s signature on the inside sole:Erica Lefroy. Her fashion line has been doing well recently, but I didn’t realise Kate was into that sort of stuff.

I let the silver heel dangle from my index finger and check the size. Her feet are smaller than I would have thought.

I drop the shoe and lean my ear against the door of the bathroom stall. There’s a frustrated muttering coming from the other side that draws a wry chuckle from my throat.

I’m probably the last person she wants to see.

I tap gently against the door with my knuckle. “I know it’s you.” More silence. “Are you stuck?”

A loud sigh burrows its way through the door. “No, Nico. I enjoy spending my Friday evenings locked in the toilet.”

I snort.She’s funny.

“The lock is jammed. Bloody stupid cubicles,” Kate explains. “If you had regular toilets, I could have squeezed underneath the door.”

I stand back, slide my hands in my pockets, and tamp down the urge to laugh as I imagine Kate squirming on the bathroom floor to escape her temporary prison. “What would you like me to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Kate huffs. “Redesign the bathrooms? What do you think I want you to do? Get me out of here. Break the door down for all I care.”

“As much as I’d love to break down the door and rescue you, I don’t want to damage my property.”

Kate mutters something I can’t make out.

I’m silent as I examine the lock. I can’t swing it from this side. I walk to another cubicle and check the mechanism on an open door. It’s sticky, but it twists.

Kate’s voice, less irate now, echoes around the stalls. “Are you still here?”

I return to her cubicle. “I am.”

Lucky for Kate, I always carry a penknife. Strangely enough, it was a gift from her father. I pull it out of my pocket and read the inscription on the handle.

Don’t kill anyone.

Love, Godfather Gerard.

I wonder if he ever imagined that one day I’d be using his gift to liberate his daughter from a locked bathroom stall.

I pull out the screwdriver option and set to work.

“Stand back,” I tell her, and I hear movement on the other side.

A moment later, the lock falls away entirely. I catch it on my side, but on Kate’s, it clatters to the floor.

She gasps, and for some reason the noise makes me want to haul her out and sling her over my shoulder.