Sweat dripped down my spine. I hoped that my face was still dry.

“Let’s go down to the front desk and ask them about this,” the man said.

He was taller than I and probably stronger. At any rate, I’m not good at hand-to-hand combat. No good at fighting, period. I looked around, hoping for a miracle.

I found it on his feet. I was sure that there weren’t three men in six square miles wearing that particular hue of tan shoe.

“Listen, Warren,” I said. “We could do each other a favor here.”

“How you know my name?”

“If they call my boss and tell him that I snuck in like this, he’d be forced to fire me. You know I cain’t have that,” I said, ignoring his question.

“How you know my name, man?”

“And there’s a certain young lady who would be very thankful that you kept it quiet about what you were doin’ to her up on the roof.”

Old Warren turned as white as his jacket.

“I don’t know if she’s married, but I bet your young wife might be upset with you bein’ unemployed and a cheat all at once.”

Warren looked like he wanted to hurt me, so I grabbed the envelope from his hand and walked out through the swinging doors, leaving him to consider the consequences of lust.

8

I MADE IT TO THE CAR and headed down toward my own neighborhood. As soon as I saw black faces on the street I parked and practiced breathing. My gut was still writhing, and my heart knocked against my chest like Fearless Jones at the door.

Fearless Jones was my best friend and more trouble than a white girl on the prowl in Mississippi. Here I thought I was smart, sneaking into a white residence, ringing a white man’s bell. But I should have known—whatever the worst could have been behind that door, it would have to come to pass if Fearless brought me there.