Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Every day, he leans against the potted ficus, his shades pulled down over his eyes, and his arms crossed over his chest. He sometimes crosses his ankles, which makes him more exasperatingly attractive. I see women checking him out. Every once in a while, one will stop to talk to him, but he points toward the building like he’s waiting for someone, and they move along. He’s not lying. He’s waiting for me, and I find myself smiling from this knowledge before I internally reprimand myself for the traitorous thought.
Today, as I peer over the shoulder of the large guard, my heart sinks. He’s not there.
“Can I help you, miss?” the security guard asks.
I answer without eye contact because I’m too busy searching for Charlie. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Miss, you seem to be hiding from someone. Are you all right?”
“I’m all good.”
“You might want to consider filing a restraining order if you’re in danger.”
I look up at him, confused. “I’m not in any danger. What makes you think that?”
“Umm . . .” His eyes dart to the left and then come back to me. “Because you’ve been hiding from someone out there for the last two weeks.”
“I’m not hiding,” I state, firm in my belief. “I’m preparing.”
“Preparing?”
“Yes.” I gulp and readjust my handbag at my elbow. “Thank you for the help, but the police aren’t necessary.”
“All right.” He sounds skeptical, so I walk away and head for the doors.
I still feel the disappointment in my chest that Charlie’s not here. By the time I walk out into the late-afternoon sunshine, I’m mad. I can’t believe he gave up on me that easily! See? I justify to myself and hold my chin up. I was right about him all along and take back all the nice things I thought about him and his persistence.
Looking around once more, I finally start walking in my usual direction. My mind can’t seem to figure out if the validation of being proven right is worth the disappointment that my heart feels for that same reason.
Turning the corner to head home, I hear, “Did ya miss me?”
Startled by the unexpected voice in my ear, I cover my heart with my hand. “You shouldn’t sneak up on women like that!” I don’t stop walking, and I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him, although the wind wafts his scent in my direction, reminding me of how we used to cuddle on the couch.
“I saw you looking for me.”
I refuse to give in to him. I will stand firm. “I was just looking around. You know, it’s good to be aware of your surroundings when living in the big city.”
“I think you were looking for me.” It’s too easy for him to keep pace with me.
Stay strong. “I think you’re being arrogant.”
“Did you think I’d given up?”
“I hoped, but here you are.”
“You looked disappointed.”
“Disappointed that my stalker didn’t show up?” I laugh at the thought. “Surely you jest.” I know he’s right.
“Stalker? Hmmm. I don’t see it that way at all. I like to consider myself more your guardian angel.” I can hear his smug smile in his words and feel it in the way he walks next to me with his arm pressed against mine.
I stop, feeling haughty. With my hands on my hips, I scoff. “Guardian angel? And how do you figure that?”
“Well, at this stage in our relationship—”
“Or lack thereof, considering we don’t have a relationship,” I say, correcting him.
He rolls his eyes. “Or currently lack thereof, I protect you. I’ve been within a few feet of you for the last two weeks on your dangerous walk home. Even the subway. Stuff happens on there all the time. I’m kind of handy to have around.”
“Madison Avenue isn’t exactly a derelict area, and I never asked for your help or guardianshipness,” I explain, holding my purse tight to my side. “Anyway, I can take care of myself and do a fine job of that every day.”
“I know you can take care of yourself. I think my point is you don’t have to do this all on your own. And I don’t think guardianshipness is a word.”
“Sure it is. And I don’t have to do what all on my own? Walk home? I worked here a year before I met you and walked home all on my own just fine.”
He stops walking and scratches his head. With a confused look, he asks, “What are we fighting about again?”
I stop without giving it a second thought and roll my eyes. “Charlie, what are you doing here? Why are you everywhere I go?”
His eyes are set on mine, and the smile and playful tone are gone. “All kidding aside. I want our friendship back.”
“Well, damn. That was just so straightforward and stuff. I didn’t actually expect you to lay it out like that so easily. I thought we’d go a few more rounds before I got the full truth.”