doing here? I told you that you didn't have to make a trip.” As the words left my mouth, I tried to hide my relief at seeing him. His timing was impeccable.
“I'm so happy to see you too.” He walked past me, taking in my spiffy attire. “Sexy.”
When I opened the door, it hadn't dawned on me that I wasn't dressed. I didn't know him well enough to let him see me like this. I tried to shield my flannels by placing my arms down awkwardly in front of me.
His eyes traveled up to my face and, then, I remembered that my hair was wet when I went to lay down. My hair!
“Whoa! That's your new hairdo? I think you might need a new hairdo.” He teased as my face turned red.
“I'll be right back.” I excused myself and ran down the hallway to the safety of the bedroom.
When I returned to the living room, Charlie was talking on his cell phone. He had two cups of coffee sitting on coasters in front of him and handed one to me.
I sat down on a recliner opposite of him, contemplating whether or not I should tell him about what happened. With him here, I knew that he'd want to involve the local police out of professional courtesy. Had he done what I told him and not hopped on a plane to come to California, I would have had no problem telling him that I'd been robbed, because he wouldn't have been able to control what I would do, but here in California, he'd use the art of persuasion to convince me to do things right and let the police handle it.
Charlie, speaking to the person on the other end of the line, said, “Follow him. Don't get too close though. The last thing we need is for someone to see you. I'll stay here with her. She's fine.”
What? He's talking to someone about me?
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.
He put his hand up, motioning for me to wait a minute.
“Excuse you, if you're talking about me, I have a right to know.” I didn't like what I'd heard.
He took the phone from his ear and addressed me. “Mercy, will you just hold your horses. I'm helping you here.”
“Helping me what?” I asked, but the stern look he gave me told me that he meant business, so I bit my lip – for a minute – at least until he hung up the phone.
When he finished with his phone call, I immediately threw a barrage of questions at him one right after another, until eventually he put his hands up defensively and begged me to stop talking.
“Mercy, you're killing me here. Please, just let me get a word in edgewise, will you?” Charlie asked.
I stopped, but just long enough to catch my breath. It was like I'd been holding so many things inside and this was my first chance at release. I had to speak. I had to get all of my questions out or I feared that I'd explode.
“Let me speak, Mercy!” Charlie raised his voice in frustration.
That was enough to capture my attention. I stopped and let him address some of the questions I had.
He took a couple of quick deep breaths, then, answered my initial question. “Okay, I asked an investigator friend of mine to keep an eye on you.”
“You what? You had no right to do that. I've been taking care of myself for a long time, buddy, and I don't need...” I started to raise my voice and I didn't like that. In my experience, yelling solved nothing. I took a deep breath to calm down. “Sorry, but I just don't understand why you would do that. What did you expect him to find out? Do you think I'm guilty too?”
“No, of course not. Maybe if you'd just listened and not got all testy you would have heard me say that I asked him to keep an eye on you, not investigate you. I'm not the enemy here. You're the one running around here like some kind of detective. I told you that you were going into dangerous territory. I made a phone all to an old buddy of mine to keep you safe.” He explained.
“I don't need someone to protect me. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself.” I knew I
“I'm so happy to see you too.” He walked past me, taking in my spiffy attire. “Sexy.”
When I opened the door, it hadn't dawned on me that I wasn't dressed. I didn't know him well enough to let him see me like this. I tried to shield my flannels by placing my arms down awkwardly in front of me.
His eyes traveled up to my face and, then, I remembered that my hair was wet when I went to lay down. My hair!
“Whoa! That's your new hairdo? I think you might need a new hairdo.” He teased as my face turned red.
“I'll be right back.” I excused myself and ran down the hallway to the safety of the bedroom.
When I returned to the living room, Charlie was talking on his cell phone. He had two cups of coffee sitting on coasters in front of him and handed one to me.
I sat down on a recliner opposite of him, contemplating whether or not I should tell him about what happened. With him here, I knew that he'd want to involve the local police out of professional courtesy. Had he done what I told him and not hopped on a plane to come to California, I would have had no problem telling him that I'd been robbed, because he wouldn't have been able to control what I would do, but here in California, he'd use the art of persuasion to convince me to do things right and let the police handle it.
Charlie, speaking to the person on the other end of the line, said, “Follow him. Don't get too close though. The last thing we need is for someone to see you. I'll stay here with her. She's fine.”
What? He's talking to someone about me?
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.
He put his hand up, motioning for me to wait a minute.
“Excuse you, if you're talking about me, I have a right to know.” I didn't like what I'd heard.
He took the phone from his ear and addressed me. “Mercy, will you just hold your horses. I'm helping you here.”
“Helping me what?” I asked, but the stern look he gave me told me that he meant business, so I bit my lip – for a minute – at least until he hung up the phone.
When he finished with his phone call, I immediately threw a barrage of questions at him one right after another, until eventually he put his hands up defensively and begged me to stop talking.
“Mercy, you're killing me here. Please, just let me get a word in edgewise, will you?” Charlie asked.
I stopped, but just long enough to catch my breath. It was like I'd been holding so many things inside and this was my first chance at release. I had to speak. I had to get all of my questions out or I feared that I'd explode.
“Let me speak, Mercy!” Charlie raised his voice in frustration.
That was enough to capture my attention. I stopped and let him address some of the questions I had.
He took a couple of quick deep breaths, then, answered my initial question. “Okay, I asked an investigator friend of mine to keep an eye on you.”
“You what? You had no right to do that. I've been taking care of myself for a long time, buddy, and I don't need...” I started to raise my voice and I didn't like that. In my experience, yelling solved nothing. I took a deep breath to calm down. “Sorry, but I just don't understand why you would do that. What did you expect him to find out? Do you think I'm guilty too?”
“No, of course not. Maybe if you'd just listened and not got all testy you would have heard me say that I asked him to keep an eye on you, not investigate you. I'm not the enemy here. You're the one running around here like some kind of detective. I told you that you were going into dangerous territory. I made a phone all to an old buddy of mine to keep you safe.” He explained.
“I don't need someone to protect me. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself.” I knew I
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