FIFTY SIX

I arrived in front of his salon, where his apartment was on the top floor. I pressed the doorbell, and the door flung open. Pete surprised me with his presence; he had his expensive kimono bathrobe and his face plastered in a green facial mask. He taps his foot.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mr. Terry Young," Pete squinted his face, his pissed-off face, after opening his apartment door. His eyes scan me up and down, then inhale sharply. "Still sexy as ever."

I clear my throat. "May I come in?"

He stares at me for a minute or two, having second thoughts. "You did say you have to explain, so come inside," he said, walking away from the door and allowing me to step in.

I sighed, and after I had closed my door, I looked around and saw that his apartment seemed normal and not in the ordinary except for all the colorful and furry furniture and artworks of naked people.

I exhale in relief, yet a bit worried.

What is Kendall talking about? There is nothing creepy about his place.

"It's been