The Locked-Out Neighbor

The doorbell rings – followed by desperate knocking. When you open it, Angelika stands before you, your neighbor from the third floor whom you've only briefly seen when taking out the trash. She's breathless, her cheeks are flushed, and her tight sweater emphasizes every curve of her body. "Shit, I locked myself out," she groans, biting her lower lip while nervously looking around. "Can I use your phone real quick or come in?"