Sandy leads a pretty plain life, if she’s honest. Up at 6:15 with the rising sun, Sandy sips French Roast while Lady conducts her morning business. By 7:30 she was presentable enough for her career as an accounting manager at an IT company. Her looks wasn’t her first concern. She was on pace to take over the VP position if she stayed on course.

The couple years she had with Oliver, the owner of the company, was exciting and memorable. She had thought that he was THE ONE for a while. But, eventually, like most couples, they grew apart. They remained friends, and, amazingly enough, it has not affected their professional relationship.

Sandy enjoyed the little pleasures in life: weekend breakfasts with Barb and Jess, watching her tomatoes and beans grow in her little balcony garden, visiting Mum and Dad in the desert and her brother’s family by the beach. As the years go by, get-togethers got trickier because of kids and husband commitments.

She understood that; she wasn’t really bothered by it.

Sandy wished she had more dates and more time; perhaps both. But, all in all, she was pretty content.
But on a night like tonight when she saw Liam and those girls, the spark inside started a wildfire she was all too familiar with but scarcely understood.

Sandy met him on the day moving into the building. It was quite an accomplishment to be in this building considering the prestige and money of the neighborhood. Imagine the surprise when she saw this tall and chisel-jawed half-Asian kid coming down the stairs offering help with her heavy boxes. He appeared so quickly that she was caught off guard and upon laying eyes on this unusual sight, she was lost for words. After a few moments to recover her composure she smiled and accepted his help. She invited him to dinner afterwards, but the boy had to rush to an evening class.

Classy, considerate and intelligent, she thought.

Later that night she had her first fantasy about the boy next door. Once her desires were satiated, she looked at the vents and wondered if Liam heard her moans and pleas.

Sandy liked living here in this concierge building. She enjoyed the poolside cabanas where she laid out her work and herself on warm weekends. She took great joy talking to Shane and Marla, an old couple of mysterious age who sprinkled ageless wisdom; wanted to not, timely or not. Then there are the homeowners’ association hens she used as sanity check.

More than most, she loved Brandon and Maria on the 9th floor and their rowdy kids. In her younger days she longed for a man like Brandon who provided the security and love for his family. As the years passed, she’d learned to trust only herself. A personality flaw perhaps, but hard knocked lessons are hard to forget.

As for the boy next door, she’d see him occasionally on her way in or out and were almost always fascinated by her own teenage-girl reaction.

Two weeks after they first met they rode up the elevator together. She was coming home with an arm-load of home work. He was back from school and gym. She felt shy and uncomfortably shuffled her feet. When he caught her sneaking peeks, she opened her mouth to say hello, and when she subconsciously brushed her hair her bag fell, spilling the contents everywhere. He helped gathering her thing and his musty manly scent sent her to delirium. Sandy forgot all about her homework until her fingers and bed sheet got a good soaking from a sweaty session.

Even now she chuckles when recounting those precious minutes when her primal instincts took over her being.