"He's a nice guy!" Genevieve insisted.

"They're all nice guys," Maylene replied with a coy grin as she leaned against the bar counter.

"Yeah. Right." Her friend shook her head unconvinced.

As the two women waited for their drinks at the bar, Genevieve, a taller honey-blonde, was running the two-minute drill on Maylene. Genevieve and her other friends had met up with a couple of guys at The Red Rooster, the local pub, before she had arrived and, of course, one of them was just perfect for her.

"I meant, you always try to match me up with the 'nice guy'," Maylene, a younger Chinese student, remarked as she swept aside her shoulder length black hair.

"Because you're the sweetest little girl that I've ever known," Genevieve replied half-jokingly. She patted the shorter woman on the top of her head. "Can't set a baby seal amongst the sharks."

Maylene rolled her eyes and brushed away her friend's hand with a laugh, "Oh, shut it! Baby seal, my arse. I'm quite capable, thanks."

"Oh come on!" Genevieve continued as she looked back at their table, "He's actually not that bad looking, either."

Maylene glanced back as well but quickly returned her attention to the wood-grain pattern of the bar counter. She shrugged.

They gathered up their round of drinks and headed back through the crowded floor to their table. The group made space for Maylene to sit beside 'nice guy', Peter.

"Heineken for you, right?" she asked him as she passed over a bottle.

"Thanks," he said with his perfect smile and shiny blue eyes, "Next one will be the guys' round."

Maylene nodded politely.

Peter took a sip and then asked her, "So your background is Chinese?"

"Mum and Dad are from Hong Kong."

He nodded. "And the accent?"

"Brit," she said. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea then continued, "Londoner. The green and pleasant land. Born there."

"Ah. Cool," he remarked as he flashed a perfectly acceptable smile, "It's a really attractive combination."

Maylene smiled softly and rocked her head side-to-side as she stared at her glass. "Well, maybe here but it's fairly commonplace back home."

Peter squinted as his smile widened. "I would never say you were 'commonplace.'"

Maylene's dipped her chin downward. Her eyes rolled up to look at her friends. Though they were all seemingly talking amongst themselves, it was obvious that their attention was on her. Matching up their young friend with every decent guy they could find had become a spectator sport.

Maylene had been in Canada for two years, living in Toronto to study interior design at OCAD. She really never got into the dating scene. She had promised her parents that when she moved abroad, her priority would be studying so she wasn't actively searching for male companionship. Not that she was closed to the idea but, honestly, she seemed to attract and be setup with one cookie-cutter guy after another.

She looked at Peter with her enticing slender eyes as he talked. She smiled her pretty smile --flashed those winning dimples- and nodded but didn't really hear what he was saying. Listening wasn't her strongest suit. The guy was indeed good-looking with his short, curly black hair and blue eyes. He was well-groomed, and held an air of professional confidence. Not the least bit sleazy or lecherous. Who's to know? He may well have been good for a bonk or two but then after that? Let's exchange numbers. I'll call. Want to meet up for dinner? What are we doing for the weekend? Want to meet my folks? Maybe we should move in together? Why not? I want to see you. When?

Agh! Give me my space, goddammit!

Maylene shook her head, closed her eyes and pressed her palms against her temples. "Why in heaven do you do this to yourself?" she thought, grimacing. Relationships were so life-sucking.

"Um, is something wrong?" Peter asked.

Maylene opened her eyes slowly -left one first then right- and looked up. All eyes around the table were on her. She blushed as she sat up. She brushed down her long black hair trying to compose herself. "Ehm, sorry," she said as she looked aside sheepishly, "I was just thinking about an assignment I have to do for school."

Genevieve gave her a look, partially one of bemusement, mostly frustration. From past experience, she had an idea of what Maylene was thinking.

Maylene offered her an apologetic shrug. She pursed her lips, puffed her cheeks and rolled her eyes coyly.

The young woman took another sip from her straw and sighed. Her evenings at The Red Rooster always seemed to go this way. She enjoyed being with her friends but sitting around in the pub felt like it was becoming a chore. She'd have much more fun just playing darts. In truth, rather than because of her friends, there was one particular reason she was coming to the pub lately.

The front door opened and Maylene turned towards the entrance. Her sleek, dark eyes immediately widened as she sat upright.

There he was. Wearing his heavy, brown leather trench coat, running his fingers through his short rusty-blonde hair, he slowly made his way into the tavern. He always had that same look about him: lowered brow, his square, stubbly jaw set, his pale lips drawn to a fine line. He was a brawny, tall man and would almost be described as lumbering if not for the cool confidence he exuded. Not that he seemed to be the type who actually cared what other people thought of him.

Maylene's eyes, as always, followed him as he moved.

"Hey Anton," Peter called out to the man and raised his hand.

The man's step didn't slow down as he passed the table. He did turn his head though and nodded toward Peter. Then he made his way to his usual spot around the corner of the bar counter, sat on a stool, and then pulled out his Blackberry.

Maylene continued to look at him. Then she blinked and turned to Peter. "Um...You know him?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

Peter nodded as he drank from his bottle. "Anton does some security and surveillance work at my company," he said.

"You're friends?"

Peter shrugged, "We talk."

Maylene had the sudden urge to pester Peter even more but she realized how obvious she would appear. Instead, she just returned to discreetly watching the man named Anton seated alone at the bar.

He had ordered a beer and sat silently working on his phone. Alone but not actually appearing to be lonely, people always seemed to give the man a wide berth. No buddies slapping him on the back, no women hovering around the rather handsome fellow in his dark corner of the bar. His focused demeanor and unmoving expression sent out a silent signal that he should be left alone.

As her friends continued to talk amongst themselves and Peter's unacknowledged attentions slowly drifted elsewhere, Maylene allowed her gaze to linger longer on the solitary man.

**********

At first glance, it would have appeared to most that the man sitting by himself at the bar was indiscriminately thumbing the little buttons on his cell phone. Anton didn't seem so much absorbed in the little gadget as he was just killing time or else it was an excuse for him not to bother with other people. For whatever reason, people did leave him alone -- usually.

"Not doing anything dodgy now are you?" a playful, female voice spoke into his ear.

Anton frowned slightly and looked up from his phone. A young woman, Chinese, shimmied herself onto the stool beside him. She smiled. He eyed her.

Maylene had prepared herself for that. He looked like he may be the mysteriously churlish type. In fact, part of her had anxiously anticipated that reaction. As he continued to look at her silently, Maylene cleared her throat and spoke through her smile, "Is that the latest model? I've been wanting to have a look-see at one."

Anton realized she was asking about his phone. Without speaking, he switched it off and put it down on the counter, pushing it slightly away to his side. Then he returned to staring at Maylene, his frown settling lower over his green eyes.

Maylene twisted her lips to the side, her own brows arching upward. Okay. This was going to be a bit more difficult. "On the other hand," she thought to herself, "He hasn't told me to go away."

She brushed her straight hair behind her ears with her fingers. It was her 'stall tactic' as she thought. "My friends and I are over there," Maylene thumbed over to the table behind her, "With Peter. You know Peter? He said your name is Anton. That right? Would you...would you care to join us?"

She saw his eyes shift past her for an instant towards the table before they reset their cool gaze upon her.

"I mean, you always come in here and sit by yourself at this stool," Maylene rambled on, "Not that I've been watching...I mean there's nothing wrong with that, of course. Sitting here on your own, is what I'm implying."

Her hands started to wave around as she spoke. It was a terrible habit, she knew...always happened when she grew anxious. And she was desperately anxious now. It was increasingly difficult to keep looking into his narrowing eyes as she spoke.

"I mean, I'm not watching you all the time," she closed her eyes and pressed her palm against her forehead, "I'm not a stalker! I just noticed you alone and....uh..."

Great. She was babbling now.

Anton took a long sip from his bottle, staring at her as she slowly disintegrated.

She chewed on her lower lip and looked at him with an anxious grin. She could feel that she was blushing. Finally she looked down towards the floor and muttered, "Um, can you say something? Please? I feel like I'm talking to the wall like a prattling auntie."

There was a brutally long pause. He was still frowning at her albeit not as harshly as before when she had spiraled into her yammering. She could see him sigh.

Maylene was about to slide off her chair and skulk away in defeat when the man finally spoke. "Load me up again," he said in a dry, low voice.

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Anton finally pulled his stare away from her and looked at the bartender. He pointed to his bottle and said, "Another. I'll be back in a sec."

The man got up and headed to the washrooms leaving the young woman staring at the empty barstool. After a long moment, Maylene smirked to herself. She thumped her forehead with her palm and hissed, "Stupid cow."

Dejected, she stood up and was about to turn and face the inquisition of her friends when she noticed the man's Blackberry cell phone sitting on the bar counter. Pursing her lips, she glanced towards the washroom doors then back at the little device. She repeated this twice more before grinning and picking it up.

Anton was at the washroom sink when he suddenly patted down his pockets. He closed his eyes and spat quietly, "Fuck."

Quickly he went back into the bar. Two stools sat empty beside the bar where he had been sitting. On the bar counter his cell phone rested by itself beside a freshly opened bottle of beer.

**********

Anton was exhausted by the time he returned to his apartment building, the 4 Corners Residences. It had been another long day and, even though he lived only on the second floor, he grumbled about making his way up a flight of stairs. Half way up, he heard someone charging up behind him. Quickly he turned around, his fist clenching.

"Oh hey! Uh...hi!" A decidedly nondescript guy came up behind him. Anton squinted. John Smith. Apartment 301, directly above him. The guy was like a tepid glass of water.

John offered a nervous grin and anxious look. He waited patiently behind Anton as the bigger man stood in the middle of the stairs. Anton just glared at him. Lately John had been pretty eager to get back home after work. He had a good idea why.

Without a word, Anton moved to the side of the stairs. Glancing at him, John cleared his throat and slowly stepped past by, careful not to even brush against the man's coat. "Thanks," he mumbled softly before raced up the rest of the stairs.

At a more laboured pace, Anton made his way up to his apartment.

Inside apartment 201, Anton removed his coat and tossed it onto his futon. He switched on a lamp in the studio apartment before pulling out his phone as he stood by his window facing the street. He thumbed the keys, scrolling through names and numbers and files. All that information seemed to blur into one another in the little glowing window, but it all sorted itself out in the man's mind, even if he was tired. Everything had its place, everything had its association. So as he scrolled through his screens, it was easy to spot something new, something that didn't belong in there.

Anton frowned. There was a video stored in the memory, something from that evening. The man's jaw tightened as he pressed play. The poorly lit image of a grinning young Chinese woman appeared on the little screen. Her melodic English accent was barely audible over the background din of the Red Rooster Pub.

"Hi there. Me again. Hope you don't mind. I just wanted to check out this gadget of yours out. Very cool, I must say. I forgot to mention to you my name, by the way. I know, I know, you didn't ask, but...anyway, it's Maylene. 'May' like the month and 'lene' like...ah...Lean Cuisine! And just to prove to you that I'm completely mad, here's my number: 416-###-5115. So you could call me and tell me off. A-a-and...I can't believe I just did that! Sorry! Sorry! How do I delete this?"

The image on the screen jostled about for a couple of seconds, several indecipherable curses from the woman being captured by the phone's mic, before the video stopped.

Anton stared at the screen, his jaw fixed firmly and eyes set as a deep sigh rumbled up through his chest. *********

Maylene stared into her bottle of beer. For the next several days, it had been a struggle between wanting to go to the Red Rooster and wanting to stay as far away from the pub as possible.

Her friends had chided her endlessly when she had returned to the table that evening she had "introduced" herself to Anton. She couldn't stomach looking Peter in the eye either. And then of course, there was that stupid, stupid idea of leaving the video message on the man's phone...

Those thoughts along with contemplating how Anton would react to finding her message made her queasy. And yet, she also really wanted to know what he was thinking. The big, silent man had intrigued her, damn him. That nagging thought was enough to pull her back into that pub.

Unfortunately in the ensuing days, Anton never made a follow up appearance. And he never called. At first it was more than she could endure, the anticipation, the anxiousness. But as the days went by, she began to realize that nothing was likely to come of it. And why should it anyway? The message had probably been deleted into electronic oblivion the moment he viewed it, if he had even bothered to watch it at all.

On this night, Maylene had been determined to go into the Red Rooster, get soused, and wholeheartedly accept the consoling and counseling of her friends. She had barely glimpsed the bottom of her first glass, however, when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen: an unregistered number.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Meet me outside," a serious voice droned through the receiver.

"What? Who..." Maylene furrowed her brow. She paused for a moment, blinked, and continued, "Who is this?"

Her friends immediately stopped their conversations and turned their attentions upon her. Maylene looked at each of them guiltily.

"I said come outside," the voice reiterated.

Her eyes still on her friends, Maylene replied, "Outside? Where...?"

"I'm not saying it again."

"Outside..." she repeated. Still holding the phone at her ear and without saying anything to her friends other than a silent apologetic look, Maylene simply stood up, grabbed her coat and made her way towards the front exit.

Once outside, she fumbled to put on her coat as she continued to speak on the phone. "Where are you?" she asked as she looked around the empty sidewalk.

A horn honked twice. Maylene followed the sound to a minivan parked on the street a few meters away from the Red Rooster's door. She switched off her phone as she leaned down and looked through the passenger window. Seated in the dark interior of the minivan, she could see the silhouette of a large man sitting in the driver's seat. He sat quietly, looking away from her, staring straight ahead over the wheel.

"Anton?"

"Get in," he said flatly.

Without a second thought or breath, the young woman did as she was told.

*********

For the short ride a few blocks away from the pub to a corner donut shop and for a few minutes while seated across from one another in a booth, Maylene and Anton didn't exchange a word. The only time either of them had spoken was when they each ordered for themselves at the counter.

He stared in cold silence at her as his finger slowly tapped the table but, for whatever reason, Maylene didn't feel exactly uncomfortable as she sipped her coffee. How she had mustered this strange sense of security, she didn't know, but she was actually feeling a little amused. The man, for all his unfazed coolness, was fuming deep within. It was sort of funny thinking that she was the cause of that.

"I never would have expected you to be the strawberry-jelly sort," Maylene finally broke the silent stalemate.

Anton's eyes narrowed. "What?"

She dipped her head towards the powdered donut sitting on a saucer in front of him. "I would have thought you would stick to the plain style, or perhaps the chocolate dipped," she grinned, "You know, the macho donuts."

The angle of his frown seemed to actually deepen as he shifted in his side of the booth. Under the glare of the cheap fluorescent bulbs lighting up the shop, he looked a bit tired.

"Not that I'd be one to judge your manhood by some deep-fried cake," Maylene added, "But people do talk." She curled her lips into her mouth and looked up at the ceiling.

Anton slid his jaw to the side, dragging his teeth against one another. After a moment, he finally spoke, "What's with you?"

Maylene looked at him, arching her brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?" she asked innocently, "Do you mean my accent? It's British...Londoner. I'm Chinese but I was born and raised in London. I'm studying here to be an interior designer."

Usually this explanation about herself had to be dragged out of her. Why she was so forthcoming with him, she had no idea.

It was clear from his bothered expression that Anton had no idea either. He shook his head and reached into his coat pocket, the leather of his jacket creaking. For a moment, Maylene actually thought --still amusedly- that he might pull a gun on her to shut her up. Instead, he leaned forward and put his cell phone on the table.

Maylene stared at the device with a coy grin then looked up, fluttering her eyelashes.

Anton was leaning back in his seat awaiting some sort of response from her. Almost 30 seconds of silence went by before he realized the woman was going to play dumb, blinking and smiling at him. He should have exploded all over her. He usually would have.

Instead, he felt the skin on his face relax a bit as he leaned forward, folding his fingers together on the table. "What," he said with a purposefully slow voice, "Did you do with my phone?"

Maylene thought better of continuing her silent treatment. "Nothing," she replied.

"You know, there's a lot personal stuff on people's phones," Anton continued, "Stuff that can get people into trouble, legally and not so legally."

She opened her mouth to say something but paused. As she looked into his green eyes she saw the seriousness in his expression. Her smile weakened. She said, "I...I didn't go through it. Really."
Anton leaned in closer, his eyes piercing her, gauging her.

"Honestly!" She remarked, "I just...sorry! I shot the vid of myself. I know it was a stupid thing to do. But that was all."

The man leaned back in his chair, his hands sliding off the table. Maylene frowned. Looking at the phone she sighed dejectedly and said, "I was only having a bit of a laugh. I just wanted...I only meant to leave you my number."

Anton was totally relaxed now, draping his arms across the back of his side of the booth.

"I don't normally do daft stuff like that," she said softly.

"Because you're not a stalker," Anton spoke.

Maylene blinked. She looked up at him. Squinting slightly, she thought she might have seen the ebb of a smile on his lips. Or maybe he was picking at something in his teeth with his tongue. She couldn't tell.

"I really didn't go through your phone," she stated bluntly.

Anton nodded slowly.

"So who are you? James Bond with your secret files?" Maylene said, a bit of a sting in her voice.

Anton just turned his head and looked out the window.

Maylene frowned. This wasn't as much fun anymore. With her confession, the man seemed content to just sit placidly in his seat and look past her. At least when he was agitated, she knew he was thinking about her. Now he was just another brooding, good-looking mute.

She gulped down her lukewarm coffee and began to contemplate leaving.

"So you're an interior designer?" Anton asked still gazing out the window.

"What?"

"You said you're here studying interior design," he reiterated.

She was kind of shocked that he had paid attention to what she had said earlier. Moreover however, she was annoyed. Maylene shook her head and grimaced. "Yes, but I don't..."

"Come on," Anton said as he slid out from the booth. He walked past Maylene still seated in her chair.

Her small lips were ajar as she stared at the now vacant seat across from her. She craned her neck around and watched as Anton made his way towards the exit. It was her turn to fume as she sat in the booth alone.

He was mad if he was thinking she was going to follow him around all night like a lovesick puppy.

Absolutely. Mad.

*********

During the ten minutes that they drove around in his minivan, Maylene and Anton were again silent. She somehow twisted the logic enough in her head to pretend that she was giving him the silent treatment. Truthfully she knew he didn't really care if she had staples across her lips or if she were belting out a tune.

After awhile, he finally parked on the street in front of a convenience store, Wang's Milk and Gifts, and got out. Of course he wasn't going to say why they were there or tell her to either wait in the car or not. Grudgingly, she stepped out of the minivan and followed Anton as he entered the store.

"Bad boys! Bad boys! What'cha gonna do? What'cha gonna do when dey come for you!" the man behind the counter sang out as Anton walked in.

"Told you I'm not a cop, Jimmy Dean," Anton grunted as he approached the counter. He added, "Not a narc either."

The black, slim like a stick of butter storekeeper winked. "Jimmy's got your back, Kojak! I won't blow your cover, Secret AYYYgent Man!"

Anton sighed and shook his head. Maylene, standing by the door, thought she actually caught him with a reluctant grin.

"Hey, hey pretty lady!" Jimmy Dean waved towards her.

Maylene waved back playfully. It was nice to see a warm smile tonight.

"She under some witness protection program?" Jimmy Dean asked Anton. "She some righteous damsel and you're her bodyguard? Kevin Costner to her Whitney Houston?"

Anton smirked. "She doesn't need protection. Trust me."

Maylene chuckled.

Anton bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Nodding towards Jimmy Dean, he made his way to the front door. As he and Maylene made their way out, they both stopped when they heard Jimmy Dean sing out from behind, "And I-EE-YAY-EE-I will always love YOU-WU-OO-WOOO!!!!"

Anton pushed past Maylene as she sputtered and laughed into the night air.

"What was that?" she giggled.

Anton simply shrugged and sighed.

Maylene took a couple of seconds to compose herself, wiping a tear at the edge of her eye, then headed for the minivan. It took her a moment to realize Anton wasn't walking in the same direction. He had walked a few steps to a door leading into the building above the convenience store.

"Uh, where are you going?" she asked.

Thumbing towards the entrance way, he replied, "My apartment."

"Oh," Maylene said. She stood motionless on the sidewalk as Anton entered the building.

Once again, he had simply left her behind.

And once again, after a moment's pause, Maylene followed.

*********

Maylene followed behind Anton up the stairs slowly but not reluctantly. The apartment stairs and halls were a little dim but not dingy. It was a well-kept kind of classic style, she observed, with waxed wooden floors and handrail moldings.

Paying attention to the details of the building distracted her from thinking about why she was following a veritable stranger into his apartment. Yet she barely paused as he opened the door to his second floor apartment, #201, and followed him in silently.

Anton walked in, flipping on a lamp, and tossed his keys on a table.

Maylene took a few steps in from the door and shut it carefully behind her. She stood steady on her spot, rolling her eyes and tilting her head to take a look at the apartment. It was a surprisingly spacious single-room studio. The apartment complex was appropriately named "4 Corners" since all four corners of this flat were clearly visible.

"Not much into furniture, are we?" Maylene joked as she took off her coat. She noted the simple furnishings: table, couple of chairs, futon, and desk.

It looked like the set up of a man who could move on a moment's notice.

Anton stood with his back to her at the desk. He was sifting around the clutter, piles of electronic bits and equipment. Maylene recalled that he was in the surveillance business.

Dropping her bag and coat on a chair, Maylene did a quick self-guided tour of the apartment then joined Anton at the desk. She stood beside him, pursing her lips and puffing her cheeks waiting for some sort of comment from the man. He continued shuffling through his gear as if she wasn't there.

"No telee?" She asked, glancing around the room.

"Not into watching anything," Anton replied.

Maylene nodded. She pointed at his laptop. "At least you've got internet," she commented.

"Mostly use that for work."

"Oh right," she said, "You do security and surveillance at that guy Patrick's place."

"And other places," Anton added, "That's my day work. This stuff here is for my side jobs."

Maylene smiled. She finally found a topic he seemed willing to discuss. "Side jobs?" she said casting a playfully suspicious brow towards him, "The undercover sort? Are you up to no good?"

Anton was examining something that looked like a circuit-board. "Not me who's up to no good," he remarked dryly.

"Sounds dangerous," Maylene remarked, "Sure you're not James Bond?"

Anton remained silent.

Maylene grinned. Now this was interesting. "So then," she nodded towards his computer, "You've got some juicy stuff on this?"

The man smirked. "Not unless I want people to find out what I'm doing," he said, "I test equipment on this."

"Oh," she replied. Her enthusiasm dropped.

Anton paused and looked at the young woman staring aimlessly at the clutter on his desk. He put down the board and walked over to the fridge. With two cans of beer in hand, he returned to the desk. He popped them open and offered one to Maylene.

"Thanks," she said.

After a long sip, Anton turned to his computer and typed something into the keyboard. The screen remained static, a small number displaying on the top left corner of a window, but sounds began to play through the speakers.

Maylene swallowed then tilted her head as she listened. She heard voices: a man, a woman, and in the background maybe something from a television or stereo judging from the tinny sound.

She grimaced and pointed at the computer. "Is that...is somebody talking right now?" she asked.

Anton was staring at the screen. His head bobbed up and down.

"This is from a mic in a room somewhere?" she said trying to clarify.

A hint of a smile curled on Anton's lips.

Maylene listened with an incredulous look on her face. The conversation she heard was innocuous enough, nothing seedy like a drug deal or such. Yet it was obvious that the people in the room weren't aware that they were being listened in upon.

"Who are these people?" she finally asked.

"Apartment 302," Anton replied, "Upstairs."

Maylene's mouth dropped. She wasn't sure what answer she had been expecting. Certainly it wasn't that one, however.

"You've bugged your neighbours?" she asked, amazed, "Why? What are they up to?"

"Mostly watching porn videos from the sounds of it," Anton replied.

Maylene blinked. She allowed a moment to think about her next question then asked, "Are they doing something illegal?"

Anton shook his head.

"Are you doing a private investigation? Did somebody pay you? Is it like a wife cheating on her husband?"

Anton continued to shake his head.

"Then why...?"

"Just to test some equipment," Anton said bluntly. He tapped the F7 key. The window on the screen which had been displaying the number 302 now switched to 401.

Maylene listened. Again voices came through on the speakers, but different from the previous ones. Music was playing in the background as voices talked about things like 'positions' and 'holds' and 'watching your lines'. They were breathing heavily as if they were in the middle of a workout. She could also hear footfalls like they were briskly moving across the floors.

She pointed at the screen again. "Don't tell me that's another apartment, then?" she asked.

"401," Anton acknowledged. He tapped the key again. "402."

Maylene heard a soft female voice, almost child-like, humming a tune. There were the sounds of skittering on wooden floors, then a couple of quick barks -- a dog.

"Oh my god," Maylene covered her mouth, everything finally sinking in. "You've wire tapped the entire building? All the apartments?"

Anton drank deeply from his can.

"How did you...they don't know? Is this legal?" she asked, looking up at him. Her amazement didn't stop her from asking the obvious.

The man didn't bother to answer.

Maylene stared at the screen, her dark eyes wide. "This..." she thought to herself, "...is so very cool."

As the sounds filled her head, she thought of the possibilities, the fun, the illicitness, of eavesdropping. It made her giddy. The thought of Anton sitting here by alone, listening intently, privy to possibly private conversations and intimate moments was also intriguing.

"Any video?" she asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

Shaking his head, Anton replied, "Just sound. I listen. That's all I do."

"Ah." Maylene said.

Anton could see her enthusiasm waning a bit again. "There's a lot you can figure out from just listening," he said.

She looked up at the man. He was staring intently at the computer. She thought she saw the ebb of a pleased smile on his lips. She was hearing the same sounds he was hearing yet it was so obvious he was getting much more out of them. Leaning closer to the screen, her face glowing from the light, she asked, "Have you ever caught someone being...you know...naughty?"

Anton also moved closer towards the screen, brushing up against her. "Mm-hmm," he replied, "I have."

"Wow," she said softly, smiling crookedly. Her heart felt a little weak when he spoke. She was curious about what he heard.

"Lots of heavy breathing, raspy and quick," he said as if reading her mind. He spoke with a smooth deep voice, "Bodies coming together. Different gasps and moans...everyone sounds different, like a signature. It's amazing how much people talk while they're..."

"Having a bit of kit?" Maylene broke in with a hushed voice.

Anton smirked. "I was going to say something else, but yeah," he said.

Blinking at the screen, Maylene turned her head. Her eyes widened when she realized Anton was looking back at her -- a cool, stoic expression on his face. She suddenly noticed how close he was, his arm up against hers. She watched as his green eyes scanned her face from her eyes, down to her mouth and then back up again. Her lips quivered apart slightly as she felt her nerves race. Now she was fully aware of where she was, who she was with...how damn hot this mysterious man made her.

"So...we good? You want to get started?" Anton asked.

She hadn't been expecting this...at least not so quickly. Not after the curious time they had spent together so far this night. Yet, as she looked at his serious and handsome face, she couldn't find it in her voice to say "no".

"Wh-what?" Maylene replied dreamily.

Her lips drifted towards his as if pulled in by a magnet.

A loud digital ring filled the air. Immediately, Anton stepped away from Maylene and pulled out his cell phone leaving the young woman frozen and staring across to the corner of the desk.

"Yeah," he spoke into the handset, "What are they up to?"

The words didn't register with Maylene. Like some lounge room statuette, she remained bent over on the desk, blinking. What was she about to do just now and why the hell wasn't she doing it?

Anton droned a few more short sentences to the party on the other end before saying "Okay. 20 minutes."

As he pocketed his phone and reached for his jacket, Maylene finally shook her head and stood away from the desk. "You're going?" she asked.

"Got to check on a job."

Maylene looked around the room anxiously. She pointed to his computer and said, "What about this? Uh...wait. Should I go with you?"

Anton adjusted his collar and shrugged. "You can stay if you want," he replied.

"I...but..."

"I gotta go," he said and he strode out the door leaving the young woman standing alone in his apartment.

The voices from the computer continued to flow through the room. She didn't hear them.

As Anton made his way down the stairs, he paused and looked back up to his apartment. His face softened as he grinned, then turned and exited the building.

*********

"He just left?" Genevieve asked as she leaned over the empty glasses on the pub table.

Maylene pouted her lower lip and nodded.

"So what did you do?"

"Nothing," the Chinese woman shrugged, "I just stood there for a few minutes then left."

Genevieve rolled her eyes. It was as if she was expecting Maylene to say that she had trashed the place.

Maylene thought about how odd the whole night turned out. She should have been pissed that she had to take a cab back home after she left Anton's place, but she wasn't. That was the least troublesome thought she had to contend with.

First she had to face her friends and explain to them why she had just up and left them that night. She managed to quell their annoyance when they found out she left with a man. Not any man, either. The man -- cool, quiet Anton. They immediately wheedled her for more details, as explicit as possible right down to whose name she cried out more that night: Anton's or God's.

The only way to convince them that nothing happened was to explain the weird details of the entire night. She was a little surprised by her friends' aloof reaction to Anton's informal surveillance setup. Unless she had caught someone in the throes of ecstasy, they didn't really seem to care.

Her 15 minutes of fame used up for the evening, Maylene had time to sit back, chug her beer and think about Anton.

"He hasn't called you since?" Genevieve asked.

Maylene shook her head.

"Why don't you call him?"

"I don't know his number," Maylene said, "It's blocked."

"Bastard," her friend clucked her tongue.

"A right bastard," Maylene concurred.

"Fuck him and all his faux Mr.Coolness," Genevieve spat, "You can do better!"

"God yes!" she declared.

"We'll find you a nice guy!"

"A nice..." Maylene sighed, "Yeah, a nice guy."

Suddenly her head was tilted low and staring into her glass again. She thought about the night over and over. There was one particular moment...Anton seemed almost glad to tell someone about what he was doing. That someone was her.

Not that it really meant anything. From what she gathered, a possible reason he hadn't called again was that he could have just packed up his things and left the city altogether. He had that certain vibe about him. Any moment could be the last time she saw him.

Lost in thought, it took two sharp nudges against her arm from Genevieve to look up from her drink.

Maylene rubbed her arm and said, "Ow! What the bloody...?"

A little unbalanced from her imbibing, Maylene scanned the table with droopy eyes. Everyone was silent and looking up in one direction. She squinted and turned her head. Her eyes widened.

"Anton."

The man in the leather coat loomed over the table in front of her. He squinted back.

The shock dispelled the effects of the beer pretty quickly as Maylene sat up in her chair and tried to compose herself. First she had to swallow her heart as it thumped up her throat before she could speak.

"Ah, Anton!" she blurted, "What are you...? I haven't...uh...do you want to sit? These are...um...these are my friends."

The other people around the table shifted their glances between Anton and Maylene but said nothing. Anton's attention never waivered from her, though.

He reached into his coat pocket then held out his hand in a clenched fist.

"Uh," Maylene eked as she held out her hand. She watched as he dropped a key onto her palm. Taking a moment to examine it, she looked up and asked, "What's this?"

"You're going to do some redesign of my place?" he asked, "That's why I had you come over the other night, right?"

Maylene looked at each of her friends around the table. Their lips were sealed. She was on her own here.

"Come by tomorrow," he added, "Can't say when I'll be there but if I'm not, just let yourself in."

"But," Maylene spoke slowly, still taken aback, "Aren't you concerned about your stuff?"

Anton smirked. "Why? Are you going to steal my things?"

"No, I'm not going to steal...," Maylene felt herself rising out of her seat and stopped herself. Was he actually kidding with her?

"Go ahead and help yourself," he said with a shrug. Then he turned and walked off.

Maylene watched him leave the pub then frowned at the little key resting in her palm. She looked up hesitantly. Her friends were all staring back, different levels of bemusement on their faces.

"Um...I'm not...I'm not gonna steal his stuff," she said softly as she looked away. She was sure her face looked like a ripe tomato right at that moment.

*********

Maylene stood outside the front entrance to the 4 Corners residences. A chilly gust of autumn air blew her long black hair across her face and she had to sweep it away from her mouth a few times. She had been pacing back and forth in front of the door for about 5 minutes lugging her school bag and portfolio with her. Now standing motionless for a moment, she took a deep sigh and moved hesitantly towards the door.

"Coming in?" A female voice chirped off to her side.

Maylene blinked and turned her head. She looked at a diminutive Asian woman, even shorter than she was. Maybe in her mid-30's, the small woman's apple cheeks rounded into form as she beamed a bunny-rabbit smile.

"I can get the door for you," the little woman in the white faux-fur short coat offered.

Maylene stepped to the side and nodded. As her head tilted downward, she finally noticed the miniature dog, a dour looking pug, straining at the leash the woman was holding. It had a polka-dot bow wrapped around its orange-sized head.
"That's, ehm...cute," Maylene said hesitantly.

"Ah! Tickety-tockity! You have another fan! Such a cute little doggy!" The woman showered her dog with sugary praise.

The dog, 'Tickety-tockity', shivered and looked up at Maylene as if pleading for help.

The woman opened the door and followed Maylene into the building. The two women made their way up the flight of stairs...slowly. The woman didn't bother to carry the dog so the canine had to rely on his miniature legs to stumble up the steps. This seemed to be of endless amusement to the woman.

She laughed, "It's like he's climbing out of a gopher hole!"

Over and over and over.

Maylene grimaced. If her hands weren't already full she would have scooped up the little bugger herself. Instead she watched from a few steps below as the pug pulled itself up each step. She looked anxiously at the woman in the pink mini-skirt and leg-warmers, hoping that she would help the struggling pooch.

They finally made it to floor two.

"Oh, is this your floor?" The woman asked.

"Yeah, I'm doing something for the guy in #201," Maylene replied.

The woman's button eyes widened, "Ooh. You've got something going on with Mr.Stud?"

Just the way she was looking at her made Maylene blush. "No! No! I...uh...Mr.Stud?" she responded all flustered, "No. I just...I do interior design. That is...I'm a student, actually. He asked me to do some renos on his place."

"Oh. Really?" the little woman said, a touch of skepticism in her voice. Her dark eyes twinkled as she spoke, "He's never had a woman over before!"

"Is that so?" Maylene said. She leaned in closer, nudged the woman on her arm, and asked, "What about men?"

The woman froze, her mouth agape. Then someone flipped a switch and she burst out laughing like a Munchkin on crack. Maylene stepped back, startled. The dog nearly fell back down the stairs.

"Oh my goodness!" The little woman exclaimed, "He's gay?! Really? GAY?!"

Maylene shook her head quickly switching into damage control mode as the woman's declarations echoed up and down the stairwell. "No, no, no! I didn't mean that!" She pleaded, "I was just kidding!"

The woman waved her hand remarked, "That explains so much!"

"Explains what?" Maylene wondered.

The woman covered her mouth with her fingers but that did little to silence her laughter as she turned and continued her way up the stairs. Her little dog looked back at Maylene then tried to keep up with the woman before she accidentally strangled him with the leash.

Maylene rolled her eyes and made her way to the apartment door. As she unlocked the door, she paused and looked back towards the stairs. The cherubic guffaws of the woman were fading slowly above her and she heard the high pitched yelp of a dog.

She grinned. "So that's the one in #402," she said to herself.

Inside the apartment, Maylene put down her things, switched on a lamp and silently surveyed the surroundings. She stepped carefully taking her time. The curtains were drawn closed -- Anton probably liked it that way.

She peeked inside his closet, noted only a few shirts hanging there and a duffel bag on the floor obviously stuffed with more clothing, a sweater on the top. Maylene picked up the large brown sweater. She smelled it and touched it against her cheek. It was clean and warm. It was the one he was wearing the night she first talked to him at the Red Rooster.

There were no pictures, no bits of little personal trinkets on display in the room. She went into his bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet: razors, toothbrush, comb, antiperspirant, and a bottle of cologne. Picking up the bottle, she sniffed the cap and smiled. It was an attractive scent. It reminded her of Anton.

Her smile didn't fade as she walked back into the room, spinning around leisurely. For some reason, she felt comfortable in his space. She was a little giddy anticipating when he would come home and wondering how he'd react if he knew she was being so nosey. Well, he did give her a key after all.

Maylene cocked her brow and slowly turned towards the desk. Anton's laptop was on, a pair of headphones plugged into the audio jack. She leaned in and looked at the screen. Chewing her lower lip, she looked around the room conspicuously then picked up the headphones, noise-cancellers, and slipped them on. She rubbed her tongue against her inner cheek then tapped the F7 key.

Apt 401 "You know if you keep on packing in those Oreos there's no way I'm gonna be able to lift you up," a male voice piped in. It was a young, urban kind of a voice.

A woman laughed --a spritely, gentle laugh -- then said, "We have to put those muscles of yours to use. Besides, these give me energy."

"Cal, you don't need no more energy, trust me. I'm having enough trouble keeping up with you."

"We could paint the steps onto the floor," the woman said with a giggle, "We'll put little numbers in them so you can follow along."

"Ha ha. Yeah, your uncle will really like it if we paint up his floors."

Music started to play.

"Okay, let's start from the second position before the lift," the young woman instructed.

"How about a breather?"

"How about we watch 'Dirty Dancing' again?"

The man groaned, "I'm up! I'm up!"

Maylene continued to listen to the two of them to talk over the music. She picked up their names: Caleigh and August. It sounded like they were exerting themselves, their voices fading in and out as they moved about the room. It was as if they were doing a dance routine.

After several minutes, she tapped the computer key again.

Apt 402 There was a woman humming to herself amidst the sound of bottles being sifted around.

"How's this one? It's called Torrid Encounter." A girlish-woman voice spoke followed by the sound of something spraying softly.

There was a small sneeze.

"Too strong?" The woman said, "You're such a picky doggy, Tiki-Wiki."

"That poor pooch," Maylene said to herself. She listened to more innocuous chatter, more spraying, and more tortured sneezing before tapping the F7 key again. Apartments #202 and #301 were silent.

Apt 302 "Ow! Millicent, what are you...Augh!" A pained male voice filled the headphones, "Ah God! Don't pull it around like that!"

"I can't see the television," a dry female voice replied.

"Well, can you let go of me first before you try to reach across the floor?" The man retorted.

"Why does it look like that? Why isn't it like on the television?"

The man groaned, "Maybe it's because you nearly yanked it out of my crotch!"

"Should I put it in my mouth now? Won't it stiffen when I do that? It's so...limp."

The man was panting, "Wait...just wait for a sec. OW! Teeth! Teeth! Don't bite!"

Something clattered on the floor.

"Oh dear." Maylene cupped her mouth with her hand and blushed. She coughed a naughty chuckle into her palm. What the hell was going on in these apartments?

After listening intently for another hour or two, she had a fairly decent idea.

********* Anton came home later in the evening. He wasn't surprised to find the apartment empty when he arrived. He figured Maylene would have given up waiting eventually.

He immediately noticed the pizza box on the table. With a curious frown he read the little post-it note stuck on the top of it: "Eat me." Beside the box was a bottle of beer. Its attached post-it note read, "Drink me."

Anton leaned back and blinked. His eyes narrowed as he spotted another post-it stuck on his computer screen. Picking up the beer, he walked over to the desk and looked at the note: "Listen to me." There was a little arrow drawn on it pointing to an audio file on the screen. Anton clicked it.

"Hello! It's me," Maylene's cheery voice piped in through the speakers, "I thought I might leave another video for you but since you seem more interested in audio, I figured this was the best way to get your attention."

She chuckled.

The lilting English accent went on, "Anyway, I've just finished hacking into your bank account and I also registered you for the Victoria's Secret catalogue because I think, for a man who fancies himself a cool bachelor, you're woefully low on your nudie mag quota. I decided to order a pizza whilst checking up on your neighbours. I must say, you've got quite the lot of characters in this place and you must have them all over for a dinner party, tout de suite."

Anton settled into the desk chair, leaning back and looking towards the ceiling. He sipped his beer and continued to listen.

"But alas, the prince has not returned to his castle and I, unfortunately, must attend another social. I did do some work, though. There are some paint chips and swatches on your desk as suggested by your professional interior designer."

Anton picked up the samples. He looked at the various shades of pink and orange paint chips and the zebra and leopard skin swatches.

"Trust me," she said, the coy tone in her voice coming through loud and clear, "For a man who eats strawberry jelly donuts, this colour scheme will be darling."

Anton smirked.

"I also thought you needed some 'decorative accents' so I left you a picture to start your collection."

He noted the small frame on his desk: a photo booth picture of a dark haired young Chinese woman grinning wickedly and flashing a gang sign.

Maylene tried to say good-bye but she was too busy laughing when the recording stopped.

Anton sat in silence for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He took another sip of beer and inhaled deeply. He suddenly realized that he was grinning. Tapping the keyboard of his computer, he picked up the picture and sat back in the chair again and listened.

"Hello! It's me..."

*********

Maylene thumbed through a copy of Architectural Digest she had picked off the store rack. After a moment, she turned her head and grinned sheepishly towards Jimmy Dean standing behind his counter.

"Ah, I'm sorry," she said with a nod, "Not a library, right?"

The proprietor of Wang's Milk and Gifts smiled and waved his hand, "Ah, don't worry about it at all! I don't mind the pretty ladies in his store giving the magazines a look-see. So long as you don't mind this respectable man giving you a look-see."

Maylene chuckled as she looked at his bright, white smile and his eyes widen big and round. "By all means," she replied, striking a mock pose, "Indulge."

As the two shared in a laugh, a man entered the store and approached the counter. Maylene turned her head towards the magazine in her hand but kept her eyes on him. She grinned to herself. "Hello, John-boy," she whispered.

John, a decidedly average looking fellow, possibly a Filipino-mix, who always seemed to have a litany of concerns on his mind, looked even a little more anxious today.

"Hey, Mistah Smith!" Jimmy Dean welcomed him, "How's things doing with the sweetie in 302?"

"Uh, I have no idea Jimmy," John said looking eagerly past the jovial store-keep.

"Rrr-right," Jimmy Dean trilled his throat then laughed from his belly. John cringed.

Maylene watched as John quickly glanced around the store, flashed her something passable for a grin, and then leaned across the counter to speak to Jimmy Dean with a hushed voice. The store-keep's mouth plopped open like a fish blowing bubbles and clapped his hands together as he snickered. John, less enthused, tried desperately to shush him.

"Ooo-wee!" Jimmy Dean whistled, "It's par-tay time!"

"No! No! It's not like that!" John insisted, "There's no party!"

"Not a problem, boss!" Jimmy Dean laughed and snapped his fingers. He reached towards the shelf behind him and asked, "What'll it be? Cherry lubed? Ribbed for the lady's pleasure? Glow-in-dee-dark? You need an economy pack, boss? You never know."

John rubbed his forehead. He looked like he was being flayed alive as Jimmy Dean enthusiastically spilled an assortment of condoms across the store counter. "Oh my god," he mumbled.

Maylene buried her face between the pages of the magazine as she sputtered a laugh.

Poor John-boy.

*********

Maylene was still sighing, catching her breath as she left the store, purchased magazine in hand. She took a few steps to the side and entered the 4 Corners residences.

She had been dropping by almost everyday for the last two weeks. Every time she arrived, Anton was never there although several times he did come home while she was still in the apartment. He never said much despite her own gregarious nature, and though he seemed cool and detached to her presence, he also didn't seem to mind her being there, either.

They would go through the motions of discussing some of her ideas to renovate the space. Anton would simply nod at whatever she said. Neither of them appeared to be taking the project too seriously. Then the two would go about their own business in the apartment. Eventually one of them would leave the other.

His aloof attitude didn't bother Maylene. Though she was still very attracted to the man, she didn't feel the need to push it and gave him his space. At the behest of Genevieve and her other friends, she tried the seductively slutty look --mini-skirt, fish-nets, hooker boots, halter top-- to get a rise out of him. Instead he walked past her to grab his cell-phone then left the apartment. Maylene immediately felt like a right idiot when she looked at herself in the mirror. Her friends knew it. She was a nice girl at heart.

So she settled for being comfortable with him while planning her next move.

Once he mustered an annoyed tone and asked, "Why do you keep coming here?"

Maylene replied with a playful shrug, "Because you haven't told me to stop."

Anton eyed her but she didn't blink. He finally just turned and walked away.

Maylene curled her lips inward in her mouth and smiled. Such an intriguing big lug.

She also just liked being in his place, in the 4 Corners. She was enjoying eavesdropping on the neighbours, piecing their lives together.

There was 301's John Smith who seemed to be spending very little time in his own apartment these days. The earnest man made a poor effort to conceal the fact that he and the woman in 302, Millicent, were often together watching porn movies in her apartment. Lately, they had taken to mimicking what they were watching...badly. They had an awkwardly studious approach to it all, like they were following flow charts. Their escapades came off sounding like a bumbling Laurel and Hardy skit over the headphones. Maylene often ended up nursing a belly ache from laughing rather than feeling anywhere near aroused.

Then there was Yayoi and her dog in 402. Ah, Yayoi. The sweet-like-a-gob-full-of-sugar little woman with the round face, multiple pig-tails and pitchy voice seemed to have a thing for Reality TV show hosts. Maylene listened carefully and counted the sounds of at least a dozen different vibrating sex toys the nebbish woman would apply to herself. Cooing calls of "Oh Jeff! Give me immunity!" often filled her apartment followed by high pitched squeals then a dog barking. The poor dog...Maylene had no clue as to what his name actually was since Yayoi seemed to change it on a whim.

Her Bambi-voiced mews of passion often cited "Mr.Stud" as well. "Which 'explains so much'," thought Maylene.

Maylene had met Caleigh and August, the two people using 401 as a dance studio, in the stairwell. She liked them, so bright and spirited. Almost the same age she was, the pearl skinned Caleigh and the cocoa toned August made for an attractive pairing though they insisted that they were just dance partners. As she listened in on them, it certainly sounded at first like all they were focused on was their dancing. But then Maylene listened more closely Through the music, through their instructions and conversations, she could hear more than either of them even may have realized or were willing to acknowledge -- something just on the other side of that door of their relationship. God she hoped that she was there to listen in on them when they busted that down.

"I'm home!" Maylene sang out as she entered the apartment. She wished for once Anton would be there to hear her say that. She ached to see the man do a spit-take.

But just like every other day the apartment was empty. Maylene sighed.

"Is this really the best you could do, silly girl?" Maylene thought, "Spend your weekend afternoons in this apartment waiting for that man to come home? You'll wait forever?"

Maylene looked around the apartment and rubbed her wrist, a worrisome thought wafting through her mind. She grimaced and shook her head. She needed to relax. A beer? No. She looked at the bathroom. With a smile she turned and walked towards it, pulling her top over her head and unbuttoning her jeans.

*********

She felt quite refreshed as she stepped out of the shower. Already smelling the familiar scent of Anton's soap on her wet skin, she reached for his towel to dry herself off. It was softer than she thought it would be. The man was full of secrets.

"Are you sure you aren't stalking him?" she laughed to herself.

Tilting her head, she patted down her long, straight black hair as she looked into the mirror. An attractive young woman looking content with herself looked back. Her pink lips drew to a broad smile revealing alluring dimples and narrowing her already sleek, cashew-shaped eyes. Maybe she wasn't Anton's type?

"No that won't do," she said aloud, "None of that, Maylene. You're a sultry, sexy bitch."

She laughed.

After slipping into her pink and blue panties, she was about to put her bra and top back on when she paused. That glimmer returned to her eye.

Padding across the apartment floor, barefoot and topless, she went to the closet.

"Okay. Now this is definitely stalking," she admitted. That didn't stop her from pulling on Anton's brown sweater. She was practically wearing a tent, the neck of the sweater slipping over one of her smooth shoulders, and the bottom dropping halfway down her bare thighs. Immediately she felt warm on the inside and out.

Now she felt it was time for a beer and she strode over to the fridge. Cracking open a can, she sipped the bit of beer spritzing over the top and walked over to the desk. Seating herself in the swivel chair, she drew one of her bare legs up to her chest, foot on the seat, and slipped on the headphone. She tapped the laptop keys.

"How are we doing today, folks?" she said.

"Ahg! Ahg! Holy shit! Get it off! Get it off!" a man screamed, his voice pitching high in panic.

"Bad dog! Down! Down!" the distinctly fluffy voice of Yayoi commanded.

The distressed man groaned in mortal pain.

A dog growled harshly.

"Let go of him now!" Yayoi insisted, "Those aren't Tikki's fetch balls! No! No!"

The man's voiced pitched even higher as the dog's growl intensified.

Maylene nearly tore the headphones off of her head, the cacophony from #402 stabbing her eardrums. She quickly tapped the keys again.

#202 was its usual dead silence. She figured it must be vacant though Anton had said somebody was in there.

#301 was quiet which meant Maylene knew where John was right now.

Tinny, hollow voices sounded from #302. Over accentuated breathing and groaning. Three-note electro music on never-ending loop. Lot's of "Yeah baby", "Like that" and "Fuck me".

John and Millicent were watching porno again.

"Look can you put down the notes?" John said anxiously.

"How do we decide which one to use?" Millicent said in her usual deadpan voice, "What's a 'tickler'?"

"It doesn't matter! They all do the same thing!"

"Wait, there's a movie that had this one," Millicent stated.

John sighed wearily.

Maylene shared his sigh. "Ah, Jeezus you two," she said rolling her eyes, "Just bugger her already would you John-boy?"
She took a long, deliberate gulp of beer as she tapped the keyboard again.

A familiar song was playing in #401. It was the swanky-hip tune "Mercy" by Duffy. Maylene smiled, bobbed her head, and tapped her bare shin to the sultry rhythm of the song. Yes, a great tune from a UK gal. She tilted her head, curious. She didn't know that August and Caleigh were dancing to this song.

"Oh god August! Unn!"

Maylene's heart missed a beat as she froze in her chair. What did she hear just now? She sat up and leaned closer to the glowing screen, listening. Through the music, she heard heavy breathing, not from a couple in the middle of a dance, but the soft coos and hushed gasps of a young woman in unbridled ecstasy and the guttural groans and satisfied hum of a hungry, passionate young man.

Maylene slicked the tip of her tongue along her lips, moistening them as they strayed open. It sounded like Caleigh and August had finally stopped dancing.

The song ended, drifting into silence, just as the voices of the two in #401 picked up in volume. Not that they were saying anything coherent. Words had given way to desperate and illicit sighs and moans. Sounds of wet, breathless kisses filled Maylene's ears. She blinked, shifting her eyes around the room, the sounds so vivid, she could almost feel their presence in there with her. She touched her finger tips with the tip of her tongue, feeling her own unsteady breaths.

She heard Caleigh's breath suddenly quicken, then stop for a moment, followed by a long, enticing, moaning gasp. She listened to August grunt with a stern determination.

Maylene closed her eyes. Oh god. He was in her. The sound of two bodies coming together was unmistakable, undeniable. She envisioned the solid, boyish-man August thrusting his black cock into the lithe figure of Caleigh, her legs spread wide. She could hear it as flesh met flesh and mouths entwined. Their underlying passion had been released. In her mind's eye, they were beautiful together.

The young woman at the computer sighed deeply and slipped her fingers into her mouth, slicking them with her saliva. Her eyes still closed, her ears listening intently, she slid her hand down her body, and slipped it under the waistband of her panties.

As gasps and groans filled her mind, Maylene slid her fingers up and down the tender line of her pussy. She leaned back into the chair, tilting her head over the back rest, letting her long hair spill down. Her fingers began to circle, massaging more deeply, teasing her soft folds apart.

Caleigh was crying out August's name with uncontrolled fervour now. The sounds of slapping flesh intensified. Good lord, the two young dancers were really going for it now. The audacious desire she was listening to made Maylene shudder. She rubbed her clit, squeezed it between her fingers. Her own delicious moans mingled with the ones she was hearing: gasps, gulps, passionate cries for more. August and Caleigh faded away into erotic oblivion. In their place, was one man -- a large, stoic, handsome man whose smell and look she could never dispel.

"Anton, uhh-mmm...," she groaned as her back arched sharply in the chair. With her other hand gripping onto the edge of the desk top, her moist fingers worked feverishly. She repeatedly moistened her lips with her tongue. She swallowed and gasped. Her slender legs shot out straight as her whole body strained.

"Ahh!" she cried as she spilled onto her fingers in a dripping mess. Her body trembled and ached as the warm release coursed through her. She rolled her body forward as she continued to rub herself and she collapsed onto the desk, sucking in wheezy breaths of air.

"Oh god, Anton," she murmured, her eyes opening dreamily. She shuddered again as she listened to Caleigh and August's torrid session climax in a harmony of blissful moans and raspy grunts. With a sigh, her eyes slowly closed again.

*********

Over an hour later, Maylene awoke from her pleasure induced nap. She lifted her head off the table, rubbing her cheek and opening her eyes very slowly. She moaned gently. It felt like she had a hangover.

The room was darker now, only the evening glow seeping through the curtains struggling against the darkness. Maylene had fallen asleep with her fingers still touching her pussy. She felt the slight dampness of her panties as she pulled her hand out. Silence surrounded her, the noise cancelling headphones doing their job. She listened closely -- it was quiet in 401. Either Caleigh and August had left or they were sleeping. Between the dancing and that lusty calorie torching session, those two bodies could probably have used a serious recharge.

Maylene brushed aside her hair and rubbed her eyes roughly. She whined softly, feeling the frustration swell within her.

"This is really pathetic now," she croaked.

Sitting in the dark. Hanging around like some stray cat waiting for a handout. Listening to the intimate affairs of other people like audio porn. Masturbating to it. Waking up feeling like she just had a one night stand without even having the benefit of experiencing a good stiff fucking. She felt cheated.

And for what? Where the hell was Anton anyway?

Enough. The mystery behind the mysterious man was gone. That was it...enough.

She glared at the computer screen, aligning her thoughts. With a couple of clicks, she opened a new recording and leaned closer to the microphone.

"Listen," she said calmly, "Because I know you like to listen, Anton. I'm leaving now-- for good. I don't know if you care or not...and I guess that's the problem, isn't it?"

She paused to think, refusing to ramble on aimlessly, then said, "I like you -- a lot. I don't know why. You're a darkly intriguing man Mister...Mister...god, I don't even know your last name. But I don't want to get any...deeper into this. I can't. Because I don't know what this is. I can't invest myself in this."

Her voice began to waiver slightly. Maylene knew she had to wrap this up. "I don't know if the next time you leave will be the last time you'll leave," she eked, feeling the lump in her throat hindering her voice, "And you probably wouldn't even say good-bye would you? You stupid git. You stupid, handsome, fucking..."

The room brightened suddenly. Maylene's head snapped back as she looked around her quickly, gasping. She spun around in the chair. Anton stood by the lamp beside the futon staring at her morosely.

Maylene fumbled with the headphones, removing them and tossing them onto the desk. "Christ," she gasped, "How long have you been there?"

She rubbed away the puffiness in her eyes and gazed at him more clearly. The big man wasn't standing as tall as he usually did. She could see him breathing hard. His long, leather jacket and his shirt looked a bit disheveled. On even closer inspection, she could see that his hair was mussed and there were some big cherry red blemishes on his face.

"What...what happened?" she asked softly.

Anton was clearly distracted, his head turning left and right, looking around as if he didn't know which direction to step towards first. Finally he made his way to the desk. Standing beside Maylene, he rummaged around the clutter, pocketing a few random items in his coat.

She noticed the red and purple bruises on his knuckles. "Anton," Maylene said, "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah. Yeah," he replied still picking through the items. He stopped and finally looked at Maylene, "I'm listening. I'm good. You're...uh...is that my sweater?"

Maylene tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing, as she looked at him closely. She read something in his eyes. More importantly she picked up something in his voice. He was distracted, his mind working on something --a plan. Her mouth slipped open when she realized what it was.

"Anton..."

"Give me a second," he said as he turned and walked to his closet.

She watched him carefully for a moment before lowering her gaze towards the floor. Feelings of anxiety and urgency gnawed inside her belly. She closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, calming herself, clearing her mind.

Anton was picking through boxes scattered in his closet when he heard Maylene speak, "Anton."

He stood up and turned towards her just in time to see her pull the big brown sweater over her head. She looked down at it as she held it in her hands, twisting it, then she calmly draped it on the chair. Barefoot, she wore nothing but her panties and a focused look on her pretty, somber face. She folded her fingers at her belly as she tried to steady her breath, her round, curving breasts trembling slightly as her chest rose and fell.

Anton stood motionless, his face expressionless, as the slender young woman slowly made her way towards him. She came within a foot of him and looked up with her deep brown eyes. He frowned as he looked at her, but his eyes never left hers.

"Good," Maylene sent her thoughts to him, "Just...look at me."

Their eyes tethered, the petite woman reached up and pushed his heavy leather coat off his shoulders. Anton let her do so, letting it slide down his arms and falling with a crumpled thump onto the floor. He could see the earnest look in her eyes, the nervous tremble on her bare chest.

Maylene shifted on her feet. She looked down to his waist. Her upper lip curled under her lower one as she pulled her long hair back behind her ear with one hand while the other gingerly reached for and lifted the bottom of his Henley shirt. As soon as it was past his belly button, Anton reached down and lifted it the rest of the way and over his head. It was the only moment he took his eyes off of her.

As Anton pulled the tight shirt off his arms, Maylene used the moment to admire the man's rugged body. He really was a tall, solid man. Her hands slowly reached out and touched his skin above his stomach. Like touching pristine marble, her fingertips slid around the edges of his abs, circled his belly button. Both of them watched as her hands drifted upward pushing against his pectorals, her fingers and palms brushing past his wide dark nipples. Maylene lifted herself to her tiptoes, exposing the sultry definition in her slim legs, as she wrapped her hands behind his thick neck.

Anton felt her soft, warm, bare bosom gently cushion against his body as she leaned up against him. Her body moved to the rhythm of his breathing.

"Hold me," Maylene said.

After a moment's hesitation, Anton slid his hands up along her thighs and around her waist. He clutched her at the curve of her smooth back just above her panty-line.

The young woman's fine, small lips parted. She moistened them. "Kiss me," she said, her lilting voice beginning to crack.

Anton's jaw was set as firmly as his eyes. He continued to just feel her heart beat --listen to it-- pulse from deep within her chest. He could feel how anxious the young woman was, how desperate she was to give herself over to him. It had a calming effect on him.

Maylene closed her eyes as she saw him tilt his head towards her. She felt his lips firmly press onto hers. She inhaled deeply, and pulled herself higher to meet his kiss with equal intensity.

Their two bodies were motionless, only their lips moved, folding over one another over and over, mingling their taste and breath. As their lips parted, Maylene lowered herself down slightly, putting space between their bodies. Still holding onto him around his neck, she looked down to his belly.

For a second, she said nothing as Anton looked down at the top of her head. Then he heard her say in a barely audible whisper, "Make love to me."

She thought it was a touch more subtle than "I want you to fuck me till my skull bursts, you goddamn bastard."

Her eyes shifted unsteadily as she waited for his reply. It was like an eternity. Then she felt his fingers under her chin, tilting her head upwards. The moment she saw him, he caught her lips with a smoldering, deep kiss that sent her heart-rate shooting up a few notches.

Maylene hummed a sigh as she lowered herself, letting her hands slip out from behind his neck. She took his large hands in hers. A seductively playful smile on her face, she shimmied backwards --toe-to-heel, toe-to-heel-- pulling Anton slowly along with her towards the futon. The man still looked quite serious, but he followed her closely.

When she felt the cushion of the futon push up against her calves, Maylene sat down. She raised her eyes up, narrow like crescent moons. Anton ran his hands through her hair, his touch making her swoon. Her hands quickly went to work. With a determined look, she undid the man's belt buckle, her fingers slipping on the stiff leather but undaunted. She nearly broke a nail pulling out the button of his jeans but quickly pulled his fly down with a swift tug. She was so focused that she never noticed the subtle curl on Anton's lips. He was amused by the little frown on her pretty face as she struggled to pull his tight jeans past his hips.

"You're not even going to help me, are you?" she fumed inwardly.

As if on cue, Anton pushed the jeans, along with his briefs, down to his thighs. Maylene was immediately confronted by his lengthy cock. Her gasp and gulp were clearly audible.

Just as she was about to reach for it, Anton leaned across to the lamp by the futon and switched it off.

Suddenly in the dark, Maylene said, "No. Wait. Why did you..."

"It's alright," Anton calmed her from above. He was only a large, vague shadow in her eyes.

Maylene felt him take her hand. He guided it slowly until she touched his cock. Maylene smiled. It twitched slightly as she carefully curled her fingers around it and raised it to her lips. She stroked it gently up and down from the base to the tip, feeling it stiffen, then she sank her mouth over it.

Anton breathed a stream of air through his lips as he felt his cock rub inside her mouth and nudge up against her throat. He listened to her hums and muffled moans as she worked his shaft with her tongue and lips.

Maylene quickly had the saliva built up in her mouth. It glossed her lips and dribbled down her chin as she worked it along his hardening length and massaged it onto his tender balls. She loved the feel of his tip in her mouth, dragging it along her tongue and pushing it against her inner cheek. When she heard the big man groan, she slipped his cock from her mouth and paused, amazed of the sound she had elicited from him. She looked up. She couldn't see his face clearly but she heard his deep, satisfied breaths. Rolling her tongue across her upper lip she wrapped her mouth around him again, redoubling her efforts. She sucked hungrily on his cock wanting to hear his sighs and groans.

Anton reached down, entwining his fingers in the silky strands of her hair. He felt her head bob back and forth with vigour. His other hand slipped down her chest, fondling her round breast, giving her erect nipple a firm squeeze and drawing a stilted gasp from her full mouth.

Maylene's fine brows angled sharply as she pumped his shaft hard into her mouth. Between the tip of his hard cock pushing against her throat and the feel of the man's touch as he caressed her tits, she was having difficulty finding her breath. Finally, like a diver emerging from the depths, she pulled her mouth off of his length and whipped her head back, loosing a wheezing gasp for air.

Hearing the young woman groan like that nearly caused Anton to blow his load across her face. He struggled hard to ease the tightness in his stomach and gluts as well as the surge in his throbbing cock.

Breathing through his mouth, he pushed his pants and briefs off his feet. Holding onto Maylene's shoulders, he lowered the woman onto her back on the futon. She shifted her body, settling into the cushion as the muscular, silhouette of Anton moved between her legs. He prowled above her body, then he lowered himself to kiss her. The tip of his hard cock hung just low enough to nudge up against her skin and send a tingle through her.

They locked their lips together, sucking and licking one another's tongues. Anton inhaled deeply. She smelled like his soap and sweater. Downward he moved his lips, kissing her chin and throat. Maylene shifted and curved her body as he touched her breasts with his large rough hands. She gasped as she felt his lips wrap around her nipple and then suckle hard on it. He moved back and forth between her rounded tits taking his time to bring both of her nipples to firm, strained attention.

Maylene continued to squirm with delight as he tasted the smooth flesh around her belly button with a deliberate lick of his tongue. Fuck. She couldn't believe how he was taking his time right now but she braced herself as she felt him hook the straps of her panties, her last bit of clothing, and slide them down her legs. He knelt back, lifting her legs to remove the panties, kissing her ankles and top of her feet.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see more of Anton as he kneeled between her legs. She could see the rugged symmetry of his muscular body from the glow of evening light seeping through the curtains. She watched him as he bent down, lowering his face between her thighs, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw brush against her skin.

"Oh! Oh god!" Anton heard Maylene stammer as he dragged his tongue up along the slit of her cunt. Her body was squirming as he licked her repeatedly and he wrapped his arms around her thighs to keep her hips still.

Maylene groaned and sighed, feeling his coarse tongue nuzzle her petals apart. Her belly arched upwards but his strong arms held her lower body down. She drew her legs up, rubbing her feet against his back as his deliciously enticing licks and kisses sent her nerves reeling. When his finger hooked in between her folds she bucked hard against his restraining arm and she moaned aloud.

Anton slid his stiff finger into her as he sucked on her clit. She was a tasty little nymph, and her coos and cries urged him on. She was dripping wet.

"Oh fuck, Anton!" Maylene gasped. She reached down and pulled hard on his short hair, yanking his head away from her quivering snatch.

Her strength and aggression seemed to startle both of them as she managed to shimmy out from Anton's grasp and force him onto his back on the futon. Anton focused his eyes and could see the intense look on Maylene's face as she straddled his torso. She grasped at his cheeks as she planted her mouth over his. She kissed and licked him like she was binging on ice cream. Certainly she never felt anything so fine and tasty on her lips before.

She clutched at his head, lifting it up as she drew her chest close. She pulled his face into her breasts and the man obliged her with more kisses and long sucks on her tits. She tossed her hair back and gasped. Finally she wiggled her body downward. She felt his cock rub along her skin as she kissed and nibbled gently on his nipples. She dragged his shaft across her breasts, the stiff length nudging between supple mounds. As she knelt between his legs, she swept her long hair to one side of her head and held it as she bent down towards his cock. She rubbed it against the side of her face, reveling in its sexy feel of smooth skin over rigid, hot muscle. Then she slipped her mouth over it again. Anton looked down. The dimly lit image of Maylene kneeling between his legs, her round ass sticking up and her head bobbing up and down with verve, was something to savour but the hungry, wet slurps and gasps she made would definitely linger like a dream. He could feel the pressure on his cock as the young woman sucked him like a tight, moist vacuum. Again, she was bringing him to the brink.

But Maylene had no intention of finishing the man off like this. With a sloppy pop from her lips, his cock withdrew from her mouth. Once again, he slender woman crawled up and straddled Anton's waist. She raised herself to her knees and reached down to position the man's rigid shaft. Feeling the potent head nuzzle against her tender opening, Maylene shifted her hips and sank slowly down.
"Uhh! Anton," she sighed as his shaft rose into her. Her pussy clenched and eased alternately as he probed deeper and deeper. Maylene's eyes closed, her head listing to the side, pressing her cheek against her shoulder.

Quickly she began to roll her hips like a belly dancer. Inches slipped in and out of her with every stiff buck from Anton below her. Her breaths quickened as their session continued in earnest. She leaned back, arching her body, placing her hands on his knees. She looked up at the darkened ceiling. With nothing to see, she only focused on the feel of Anton's hot cock pumping into her and the sounds of their groans and sighs filling the room.

Anton held her at the waist, pulling her down each time her hips rose up. He felt her grind and gyrate her crotch, engulfing his cock in her moist softness. When she leaned forward and locked her mouth on his again, her soft hair falling around his face, he clutched at back and her ass. He ran a nimble finger along the crack of her butt. His hand continuously flowed along her smooth flesh. They slipped around the curves and contours of the young woman's supple and slender body. Both of them were in constant motion, intimately linked together, melting together.

The futon creaked and groaned as they continued with increasing frenzy. Once more they changed positions, this time Anton resuming his place on top. He knelt between Maylene's legs and teased her by slipping the length of his cock along her slit.

Maylene frowned as she squirmed. She groaned, "Oh god, Anton. Don't do that. Uh...just...please...Uhn!"

Anton pushed into her with a stiff thrust. He slipped his hand around the back of her thighs and pulled her in. He pumped his shaft into her with swift, hard strokes.

"Uh! Oh god! Harder," the woman pleaded. Maylene could see him clearly now through her slender eyes, his rugged symmetry, his muscles straining. She could see the satisfied curl on his lips, the hard look in his eyes as he seized her body with relentless and precise strikes of his cock. His crotch crashed into her, filling her with lustful warmth. Her smaller body arched painfully as his kneeling thrusts lifted her ass high off the cushion, but she didn't care. This rapturous siege was what she had been waiting for. To hear him groan aloud with every pump of his hips made the moment intensely satisfying.

Anton fucked her sweet, petite body as hard as he had ever done. He knew that she wanted this. It was the realization of how much he had wanted this too that really spiked his desire to please her and draw his own satisfaction from doing so. Maylene was so fucking tight and giving and warm -- it drove him with ferocious fervor.

"Anton! Oh god! Ah!" Maylene's throat was raw now. She couldn't moisten her red lips fast enough. She was gasping hot, unsteady breaths. Her whole body shook, her breasts jiggling with abandon, as Anton held her tighter and pumped her full-on with piston like strokes of his swollen cock. Her willing, tender body took every thrust.

"Ah! Fuck!" Anton grunted. His stomach strained painfully, his abs feeling like they were shredding. He felt the swirl in his skull. A low growl clawed its way up his throat, growing louder and louder as it emerged from his mouth. His large hand tightened around Maylene's waist as he threw his hips up with one last hard buck, lifting her bum and angling her back to the breaking point. The big man's head listed back and he groaned deeply as he shot a thick load of hot cum into her.

Electricity surged through Maylene's body demanding release. She twisted her head to the side, her mouth rounding open, and then cried out, "Ahh!" spilling a sensuous wetness over his cock unabated.

For the briefest moment, the two bodies were motionless, stiffening in the dark as they climaxed together, filling or covering each other with their heated, sticky cum. Their bodies tensed and strained to the bursting point. Maylene managed a few quick breaths and slowly lowered her back down from the acute arch position. Her whole body was so warm, inside and out.

Anton's body also began to relax, but every throb of his cock splashed more of his cum into Maylene until he finally withdrew from her. Still kneeling, he settled down on to the futon, his muscles sapped of their strength, his stomach and lungs aching from the strain.

Feeling delicious and deep aches in every bone and muscle, Maylene still managed to lift herself up from the cushion. Breathing hard, she pushed Anton onto his back and then shimmied down to his cock. As she held it in her hands, she felt hers and Anton's slick cum pasting the semi-rigid shaft. She could see it glisten and it had the pungent aroma of their juices smeared all over it. She flicked her tongue at the tip before guiding his cock into her mouth once more. She tasted herself on him as she licked and sucked.

Anton held his breath then grunted softly. With little coaxing. He spurted one last stream of viscous cum into Maylene's mouth. She rolled the taste in her mouth, gathering the spunk with her tongue, then gulped it down. She discreetly wiped her lips clean.

Now she really did feel exhausted. Working her tired body up alongside his, she curled up against Anton. She smiled contentedly when she felt him drape his arm around her. She rubbed his bare, broad chest gently, circling her fingers around his nipples, listening to his breaths steady and soften.

They stayed like that for a while without a word passing between them. Maylene heard steady, puffy breaths escape Anton's lips. She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed.

"Anton?" she whispered. The man didn't reply.

She propped her head up on her elbow and looked at him lying there in deep slumber, a fit, handsome, a bit less mysterious man. She ran her fingertips along his lips before leaning over and kissing him softly.

Lowering her had back down onto his chest she said quietly, "Promise me you'll say good-bye....or else I'll sick Yayoi's dog on you."

Then she fell asleep.

*********

It was two days later when Maylene returned to the 4 Corners. Of course, Anton hadn't called her since.

She passed Yayoi on the sidewalk outside. The diminutive woman was in pigtails but looked a little less perky than usual. However, her pug seemed to have a spritely bounce in his short step. She also bumped into John at the entrance looking just as guilty and anxious as ever. He bolted up the stairs screaming "Millicent! Millicent!"

When she arrived at apartment 201, there was an envelope with her name on it stuck on the door. Inside were a couple of tickets to an upcoming dance recital at a nearby university hall. The attached note read "Hope you can make it! C & A".

Maylene smiled. If even half of what she heard in 401 made it onto the dance floor, she would be there.

As she pulled out her key she paused. Then she did something she had never done: she knocked on the door. After a moment, she finally unlocked it and entered.

"I'm home," she said quietly.

The boxes were gone. The clutter on the desk was gone. The clothes were gone.

Anton was gone.

Maylene stood still for a moment, soaking the realization in. It actually didn't bother her like she thought it would. She knew he would be gone even before she had made her way back to the 4 Corners. She knew it before they had made love that other night.

But what was curious was what he took with him and what he had left behind. Her picture was gone. The laptop was still there. There was a post-it stuck to the screen: "Listen to me".

She sat down and clicked on the isolated audio file.

The sounds of heavy breathing filled the room along with bodies colliding, mouths kissing and gasping, and strained groans from raw throats. The passion she heard was familiar but it was still just as explicitly arousing.

Maylene heard her own voice, "Uhh...Anton!"

She listened to more desperate gasps mingling with the deep groans of a normally quiet, mysterious man. It was a scintillating sound.

Her lips curling upwards at the ends, she closed her eyes, steadied her breath and listened. She listened to Anton's extremely satisfied groans and grunts.

He'd be back. She knew that, too.

*********

Jimmy Dean was restocking the magazines in his store when he heard the front door open. He looked up and immediately flashed his pearly whites.

"Hello pretty lady!" he said with a wave. He held up the Architectural Digest magazine. "Got the new one hot of the presses!"

Maylene walked in and giggled. "Thanks, Jimmy," she said as she took the magazine from him. She flipped through the pages and then asked, "Can you help me with something?"

"Ask and Jimmy shall deliver!" he proclaimed.

"Can you tell me who I call to inquire about renting out apartment 202?"

She smiled, showing off dimples that could melt an iceberg.

*********

Other stories set in the fictional residence of the 4 Corners will be forthcoming. 4 Corners: Dance With Me has already been posted. Stories will be set in each of the 6 apartments. It's not necessary to read them in any particular order but hopefully you have fun picking up characters and situations from one story to the next. Please look for more in days to come or via my author's profile.

I had originally plotted to have Listen as the last story after introducing all the residents in their individual stories but I realized this might actually be a good way to show readers of Dance With Me what I'm up to with this series and give you a bit of a tease of what's to come. Please let me know what you think. I glean something from every comment, good or bad. Thanks!