The Complex

"Come on Winston! It won't be long, it'll be ten minutes, tops. Honest!" Donovan stood in the doorway of apartment complex, the doorman jamming the door with his foot refusing him entry. Donovan had no choice but to respond with force by leaning into the door with his full weight.

"Someone is going to walk past any second now and wonder what's going on here Winston. You know me Winston, you know who I am!" His breath was fogging the glass as he pressed his face against it. Whether Winston could see him was negligible at this point. Those rubber bottomed steel enforced shoes were standing very firm and to be fair Winston had some considerable weight on him.

The door loosened and swung open, Donovan stumbled into the lobby his scuffed trainers slipping on the marble floor. Winston placed a large hand on his shoulder and steadied him, "Ten minutes." The taller man said calmly. Donovan nodded appreciatively. He had no idea what time Sarah would be back but at least he was in the building. Plus, once Winston got talking it would be easy enough to keep him distracted.

Sarah's building was situated in the Financial District suburban sector if it can be called that. It was a few streets crammed together where young professionals lived in one bedroom apartments close to their offices. Otherwise the skyscraper apartment complexes were bought up as second homes for businessmen to stay overnight while their nuclear families waited in the actual suburbs. Winston was more than aware of the revolving door of lovers and one-night stands which took advantage of the inner city location. Being situated close to the Quadrangle increased the rent but the convenience was undeniable for those with deep enough pockets.

Donovan paced the lobby as Winston returned to his desk.
"Sooo Winnie. How long has it been?" Donovan asked casually watching his feet flick in front of him as he danced around the hall.
"Not that long Mr D." Winston didn't mind calling him by his enforced nickname. As far as nicknames went it was juvenile but the blonde man with his dazzling smile had stuffed a lot of money in his pockets the last time he had said it.
Donovan laughed loudly, "Oh Winnie. I'm going to make a honest woman out of that girl tonight."
"Miss Sarah?" Winston asked uncertainly. He was aware that Donovan had been a frequent house-guest of Miss Sarah but the pair had not given any indication of any romantic relationship. "Yeah, shotgun wedding and everything. I think it's true love. You can be the godfather!"

Donovan was babbling, he needed a reason to keep himself in the lobby until Sarah arrived. Winston looked shocked more than anything which was the correct response. Shock leads to uncertainty, uncertainty leads to inaction, inaction means he might let Donovan use the staff toilet.

"Congratulations!" Winston beamed deciding to mask his scepticism with an earnest smile. As long as the young man didn't cause any trouble he would let him stay in the lobby. It wasn't worth the bother of trying to remove him. Miss Sarah had explicitly told Winston that she did not wish for Mr D to be allowed on the premises but perhaps things had changed since the time she advised this. There was talk of marriage and if a baby was involved, well it was only fair to let the boy have his say.

Donovan ended up sitting on Winston's desk talking to him about the unlikely nuptials which he was planning with Miss Sarah. He advised that it felt right and that Sarah was under no obligation to wear white or invite her family. It'll be just a few friends in a registry office and then drinks by the river.

Of course the very idea of such a low key wedding was a complete anathema to Donovan's expectations of his wedding day. It would undoubtedly be the social event of the year and every single person he had ever clapped eyes on would be invited. His wife would have her breasts resting under her chin and be encrusted in white lace and diamonds. Marrying a social climbing desperado to the chagrin of his father with the attached spectacle was his ambition. Maybe he'd impregnate the lucky woman but he hadn't decided if her being 8 months pregnant at the end of the aisle would be too much.

Winston was nodding and smiling jovially but his attention was focused on the array of security screens situated on his desk under a running shelf. Donovan careened off the desk trying to lean over to the get a good look at them. Winston had become quite irate as Donovan clattered to the floor in a heap and asked him to sit somewhere else in polite but warning tone.

Sarah had asked the security staff not to let Donovan in the building. Winston was aware of this but at the same time Donovan had tried to ram raid the door which would have caused bad publicity for the building and more importantly might reflect on Winston poorly. If he complained to management it would be Winston's job which would be at stake. Plus the young man with his broad smile and blonde hair didn't seem to be causing any trouble. He had settled on a chair with his feet resting on a large potted plant near the lifts.

"Heeeey!" Donovan crowed and Winston observed him trot over to the petite woman who stood in the cavernous lobby, her shoulders slumped, her head tilted as she struggled to keep her head straight. She turned and looked towards Winston, her face was writ with disappointment. Winston mouthed his ineffectual apologies and shook his head from the safety of his desk. She turned to the louche and greeted him with a plastered smile, her posture straightening and walked him to the lifts.

They stood in the lift together in silence, Sarah stood with her back to the mirrored wall opposite him. Her face was impassive but her fatigue was unmistakable, her silence was contagious. Donovan took the opportunity to decide with some finality whether she had changed at all over the past few months since he had seen her previously. She had lost weight, her cheeks were even more pronounced, her lips still as full as they had been with that pleasant shade of pink making them pop against her dark skin. Her knees were still knobbly and her ankles pronounced, she was still extremely skinny but in a way that made her look delicate and approachable rather than freakish. Even tired, her eyes remained inviting and warm.

Sarah led him to her apartment, he fell into step directly behind like a reprimanded child. She shoved the door open into the cramped hallway. He noted that the mound of sandals and heels were still wedged behind the front door. The light bulb when turned on flickered and provided a dim ineffectual glow which illuminated very little. She disappeared into the living area beyond leaving him to remove his shoes and close the door behind him. Manners would smooth this over surely.

The living area and kitchenette existed together in an open plan space. Sarah hadn't decorated in so much as she had bought an overly large white leather sofa and left it in the middle of the room with a few fluffy cushions. Aside from the coffee table and television there was nothing else of note in the windowed box.

Sarah had frequently declared that they were not friends and Donovan refused to believe this. They had been connected via intersecting social circles at university which had led to them being invited to the same parties but that was as close as they had been for quite some time. Donovan felt that had he had the opportunity to take a good look at her, he would have definitely gotten to know her much sooner. It felt like fate had drawn them closer together in the end, almost like it was meant to be.

"Cup of tea?" Donovan called, "Or something harder...?" He mumbled staring at the bottle Italian white wine and pint of milk in the otherwise empty fridge.
He turned and Sarah was standing behind the sofa, she had changed into an oversized t-shirt which swamped her frame and leggings, her hair scraped against her skull into a ponytail. She held a pistol in her hands, arms straight in-front of her, legs apart, the stance of a young child at a carnival stand.

"I don't know what's going on Donovan but you need to keep me the hell out of it." Sarah said successfully maintaining an even tone even though there was a slight air of panic emanating from her.
"Okay Sarah... That's fine. Just put the gun down." He held his hands up, palms on display. "Calm down and put the gun down." He said in his most soothing voice.
"I am calm." She said firmly, her resolve calcified.
"That's great. You just need to- AGH!" He yelped and flinched. A pin prick pierced his foot and he looked down to see a large white cloud sitting on his feet. It looked up at him with a grumpy face and meowed loudly.
"Walter." Sarah sighed deeply, she walked over to the kitchen, placing the gun on the counter and picked up the cat.
"I see you haven't got rid of that..." Donovan said glaring at the feline.
"He's the love of my life." Sarah smiled, her fury had abated, she finally looked like she wasn't about to murder him or flee without looking back.
Donovan turned to the kitchen counter and grabbed the kettle, while holding the ball of white against her chest she nodded.

They sat on the large white sofa both in each corner with a mug of tea in their hands.
"Were you really going to shoot me?" Donovan asked her.
"You were pissing me off." Sarah said dismissively.
"Come on. Don't pretend like you didn't miss me." He said.
"It's not me you're looking for." She said with a frown.
Silence descended and hung between them. Donovan didn't want to take the bait as tempting as it was but Sarah wasn't volunteering anything further. It would be an ideal moment for him to apologise for what had happened and make some kind of amends but he couldn't bring himself to.

"I saw you at Uncle Jasper's funeral." He said quietly, "Thanks, you didn't have to."
"Oh yeah, I was sorry to hear about that." She mumbled.

That had been the last time he had seen Sarah, months ago in a line next to a grave, family members on either side of him. She had been near the back of the congregation among his father's work colleagues who felt obligated to attend. Donovan hadn't been sure as she had kept her head lowered and melted in and around the throng of black suits and coats.

When the priest had finished the ceremony she had looked up and Donovan recognised those cheek bones from a mile away. He didn't see her for the rest of the day. Hindsight had tortured him, he wished he had said something to her. He should have strode over to her and taken her hand and said something to her. Anything would have done. He wasn't sure if it was friendship that had compelled her to be there but the fact that she hadn't stayed or spoken to anyone had felt significant.

"I don't know what I can do." Sarah said abruptly, "You know I would help if I could but..."
"Do you know what even happened? Do you know what she did to me?" Donovan asked.
"I uh... I don't know Donovan." She say noncommittally.
 "She locked me in a bathroom with another dude!" He said loudly. The cat on Sarah's lap jumped up and darted under the coffee table.

Sarah said she wanted to help but that there were rules and she couldn't make contact at that moment in time. She sounded earnest enough that he almost forgave her for holding a gun toward him. Sarah suggested that Donovan go home and she would get in touch when she had anything further.

"Nah, I'm good." He said stretching his legs out on the sofa. He was testing her patience and as he suspected, the gun was not turned on him for his insolence. She threw a bundle of blankets at him and told him if she hadn't heard anything in the morning he would still have to go home.
"Or...?" His eyes settled on her bedroom door.
He felt a hard thud against the back of his skull, she walked away with the gun dangling loosely in her hand.