Bennett had noticed Ruby the day the woman moved into the building. From the window by her desk, she watched as a redhead with dimples in her cheeks climbed the stairs umpteen times, never seeming to run out of energy as she carried boxes and clothes into the brownstone. Since then, Bennett had heard Ruby on the stairs almost every day, clomping up at times while at others, her steps were light and nearly noiseless. When they began to pass on the stairs more often, Bennett found it hard not to glimpse at the woman, and by doing so, she added a few more details to her portrait of Ruby Miller.

While Bennett believed the woman’s eyes to be brown, she now knew they were the deepest of emerald greens, and her lips were shapely and full. Her hair never seemed to be mussed, even when it was, and her clothes were always pressed and stylish. And on one sweltering summer evening earlier that year, Bennett was afforded quite a tantalizing view of her upstairs neighbor. Ruby had been climbing the stairs carrying a laundry basket, and her ivory skin glistened with sweat. Her shorts were extremely short, and her ribbed tank top was extremely snug, and the swells underneath were free from constraint. Breasts, perky and round, bounced as Ruby climbed, and nipples large and peaked, pushed against the cotton as if seeking freedom. It had taken Bennett a few weeks to erase that image from her mind, yet it had just returned, for Ruby’s jeans were as snug as that ribbed tank top, and the neckline of her sweater dipped deliciously low.

Several seconds had ticked by, and even though the pause was awkward, Ruby stood her ground. Bennett hadn’t yet closed the door in her face, and Ruby took that as a good sign. Her smile didn’t waver, and neither did her stance, but unconsciously Ruby cleared her throat, and Bennett’s head snapped up.

“How about I open this for you?” Bennett said, holding up the bottle of Rioja. “That way, you can enjoy it later. That is, if you like red wine.”

“I like it a lot,” Ruby said, beaming. “Although I’m not sure I’ve ever had that one.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s not available in a box, so probably not.” Bennett was trying to decide whether to leave the door cracked open when she saw Xi out of the corner of her eye. “Why don’t you come inside? I don’t want my cat to get out.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Ruby said as Bennett waved her in.

“I’ll be but a minute.”

As Bennett went into the kitchen, a black cat scampered out from behind a chair and vaulted to the back of the sofa, stretching out his lean body as if laying claim.

“Cute cat. What’s its name?”

“Xi.”

Ruby grinned. “Let me guess. He’s your twenty-sixth cat.”