9. Trespass
Two days after quitting my job, I decided to make good on my threat to return to the restaurant with my camera. I wasn’t expecting it to be so quiet. When I had been there with Ryan, it was noisy with workers, loud power tools and music blaring from a communal stereo. Today it was deathly quiet.
“Hello?” I tentatively called, making my way through the unlocked blue door. I got no response.
Ignoring my unease, I walked across the wide-open space, flicked on the light switch and peered up at the chandelier.
I quickly determined that the best vantage point was from the mezzanine level. The only access was via a rickety-looking ladder propped against the edge of the open top level. It was worth the climb. From the top, the beautiful light fitting looked twice as big, and even more out of place in the construction zone surrounding it.
The trouble with magic is that it’s usually an ephemeral moment. My moment disappeared the second the blue door opened. Two men walked in, and I recognised one as the nervous man Ryan had dealt with when we were there a few days earlier. He didn’t seem so fidgety this time round. His composure was ironclad when he spotted me upstairs, accused me of being a thief and threatened to call the police. I wondered if he was expecting me to pocket the chandelier. It was the only thing I could see worth stealing.
“I’m just here taking pictures,” I explained.
Hardhat man was unconvinced. He marched to the ladder and lowered it to the floor, stranding me. “You’ve no business being here. You’re trespassing.”
“So you’re just going to keep me prisoner?”
He nodded. “Until the police get here.”
All sorts of horrible thoughts flashed through my mind as he reached for his phone – mainly about being rounded up by the NYPD and deported. Arriving back in Australia wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs wasn’t appealing, so I fought a bit harder for my freedom.
“Call Ryan Décarie, the guy I was here with on Wednesday.” I wanted to see him cower at the mention of his name but he didn’t. “He’ll vouch for me.”
He shook his head. “No dice. I don’t deal with that man unless I absolutely have to.”
Mercifully, the other man chimed in with another suggestion. “You could call the other one. What’s his name? Aaron?”
It took me a second to work it out. Ryan often referred to a business partner but had never once mentioned that it was his younger brother. “Adam,” I corrected. “Yes, call him.”
I could see hardhat man was at least considering it. “Does he know you?”
“Yes. You should call him. He’ll go much easier on you than his brother. If Ryan finds out you’re holding me here he’s going to flip out.”
It was a completely hollow threat. For all I knew, Ryan would wash his hands of me and tell them to call the police anyway. The bigger fear was that Adam would do the same thing.
It was still a relief that he called him. I cringed hearing him telling Adam that he’d cornered some foreign girl stealing from the building site. There was no way it was going to end well.
“He’s on his way. Stay put until he gets here.” It wasn’t like I had a choice. The ladder lay on the floor many metres below me and as far as I knew, I hadn’t yet learned to fly.
It was a long half hour. I used the time to take the pictures I’d come for in the first place, but by the time Adam walked through the door I was ready to call the police and surrender.
Both men jumped to attention when the blue door opened. Adam marched over to them, looking every bit as annoyed as I expected him to.
“Where is she?”
Hardhat man pointed up. “She’s probably here for the copper wire.”
Adam looked up and stiffly threw out his arms. “Trust me,” he said dryly. “If she were here to steal copper wire it would only be to make a charm bracelet.”
Both workmen laughed, albeit uneasily. Adam shook their hands, praised them for their vigilance and suggested they take the rest of the afternoon off. The men didn’t argue, quickly packing their tools and disappearing out the door.
“What are you doing here, Charli?” Adam asked, pacing around and looking anywhere but up.
“Taking pictures.”
He stopped pacing. “Trouble just finds you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Adam. Like magic,” I replied, matching his snippy tone. “Just put the ladder back for me so I can get down, please.”
He reinstated my escape route and I backed down the wobbly ladder. Adam reached up, taking the camera from me as I neared the bottom rung.
“Just so you know, I didn’t break in,” I said, stepping safely back on the floor. “Ryan knew I was coming to take pictures.”
“Your new BFF should have had more sense.” He hooked my bag over my shoulder. “You could have fallen and broken your neck.”
I stared at him for a long moment, trying to work out whether he was angry or concerned. I decided it didn’t matter either way. Ryan had been my saving grace more than once since I’d arrived in New York. I wasn’t going to apologise for that.
“I’m fine,” I told him, stating the obvious.
“Are you heading home?” he asked, changing the subject. “We could share a cab.”
“No, thank you. I’m going to walk. I haven’t found a café that makes a decent cup of tea yet. Today might be my lucky day.”
“You’ve just spent an hour being held hostage and you think today might be your lucky day?” I nodded, returning his small smile. “Look, there’s a tea house not far from here. It’s supposed to be pretty good. I’ll take you there.”
Perhaps I wasn’t as immune to the Décarie effect as I claimed to be. I agreed to go.