Just Us Box Set

And This Is Ed-3

At six o’clock that evening, the night crew came on shift, and I joined them, wearing one of the contractor’s T-shirts.

“You working late again, Mr. K?” Brian, a short, cute, African-American man who managed the crew at night, said after he doled out assignments to all of us. He grabbed the supplies he needed for his own floor.

“Oh yeah,” I replied. “You know inspections are on Wednesdays. We can’t afford to have any issues, if I can help it.”

“I get that,” Brian replied, “but you don’t have to be the one to fill in all the time. Don’t you have better things to do than spend it with these troublemakers?” He pointed a thumb backward at the ten people grinning behind him.

“It’s like he can’t get enough of us, or something,” Joel, one of the regulars, said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing a spray bottle, feather duster, some rags, a bucket, and mop, along with a backpack vacuum cleaner and a garbage can on wheels. “Right, because my life revolves around y’all.”

Snickers followed me as I led the way to the service elevators.

Truth was, I liked this contractor. The staff they provided was ethical and did good work. A bad inspection once too many times would mean that corporate might decide to fire them and I’d have to hire a new group and break them in. I’d rather not.

They were a great group, for the most part. The few rotten eggs didn’t last long as they weren’t worth Brian’s energy, or mine. It would be eleven or later before I finally made it home, but that was the way it was, sometimes. I waved goodbye to the workers and got off on the twenty-fourth floor to get started. This was also where property management was housed.

I decided to leave that office for last and start with the smaller spaces first. Most of the occupants of the building had already gone home for the day, unless they worked for a law firm or something along those lines.

I emptied trash, dusted furniture, and vacuumed carpets. Cleaning the glass doors, kitchen sinks, and floors came last. It was a rhythm I’d grown used to over the years, starting very young as I followed my father around in his own house cleaning business, God rest his soul.

By the time I got to the last office, it was half past eight. There were a few people still working in the property management area, but they ignored me in favor of getting their tasks done. The room furthest in the back was my last stop before vacuuming. Turned out, it was Titus Leung’s office, and he was still at his desk, jacket removed and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as he pored through a stack of papers.

Doing my best to keep from jumping the man right then and there, I said a quick, “Good evening,” not expecting a reply, and set about my tasks.

“Wait a sec. Aren’t you, uh, Ed Kaehler? The housekeeping manager?” I looked at him and saw his eyebrows arch in shock, then knot in confusion.

Surprised that he even knew who I was, I replied, “Yes.” Not waiting for a response, I emptied his trash in my garbage bin, then asked if it was okay to vacuum his carpet.

He nodded, bemused.

I did it quickly, then went on my way.

That encounter had been unexpected. Maybe he was staying late, trying to get up to speed on things. Not my business. I placed the big bin in an unoccupied spot, then vacuumed the carpet in the main area and mopped the floors. Finally done, I emptied the dirty water in the drain located in the tiny janitorial closet on that floor, then took the service elevator down to the basement to put away my items.

I texted Brian that I was done.

He replied, go home, buddy, followed by a smiley emoticon.

I removed the now-grubby T-shirt, replaced it with a spare I always kept in my office, then locked up and headed to the parking deck. Just as I reached my old, reliable, white pickup truck, I heard someone calling my name.

“Ed! Hey Ed!”

I stuck the key in the door before turning to face Titus Leung as he stopped before me. Fucker wasn’t even panting.

“You needed something, Mr. Leung?” I asked as I unlocked my car door and sat behind the steering wheel.

The stare he gave me was unreadable. “Yeah. Uh, can we do lunch sometime this week? I’ve been scheduling meetings with other managers who technically fall under me.” He ran a hand through his hair, and naturally, it fell back into place. Maybe he used some kind of magic formula. “I want to hear about any complaints, suggestions, successes, and failures in your department. It would give me a place to start in trying to improve things in the building.”

Good luck, buddy. “I could do a half-hour coffee break around ten tomorrow morning. Wednesdays are inspection days for housekeeping, so I’ll be focused on that the rest of the day, among other things.”

He smiled. “Great, okay. Well, ten it is. Meet me in the café on the third floor?”

“Sure.” I stifled a yawn, not wanting to be rude. “Have a nice night, Mr. Leung.”

I shut the door and turned on the engine. Titus stepped back and watched me as I drove out of the almost-empty parking area. I knew this because I saw him still standing there in my rearview mirror. Coffee the next day would be interesting. Maybe I had misjudged him. Perhaps he could make a difference here. And anything else I might be interested in would simply have to fizzle out, eventually.