was still sounding obstinate.
Charlie sat back, smirking, “Why do I get the feeling that you're not just talking about my investigator?”
My breath caught. What was he insinuating? I was speaking about his investigator. I think.
Chapter Eight
When I left work, all I had in mind to do was sleep the rest of the day away. Now, six hours later, all that I've managed to accomplish is discovered that my laptop is missing, open my door to find an uninvited guest, find out that not only is the local police department investigating me, but so is a private detective. If the day kept going the way it had begun, I'd probably end the day hanging off the side of a cliff.
“Why are you making that face?” Charlie groaned as he handed me my order.
“What face are you talking about? The one that should have told you hours ago to go back to Nebraska or the one that has been silently screaming at you for having someone follow me around?” I lived for sarcasm.
Charlie took a sip of the soda he'd ordered and said, “Both. Now, when you're ready to get down to business, do you think you could let me know? I'm only in town for a couple of days.”
I didn't let what I was thinking come out of my mouth. I really wanted to, but I didn't. Instead, I said something much more age appropriate, “You're mean.”
He started laughing and soon I was laughing too. We were a sight to see, I'm sure. It was a good thing that the restaurant was virtually empty at this time of day. In another hour or so, I imagined that the tables around us would have been filled with annoyed patrons. No one liked to be seated next to nuisances.
When our bellies hurt from laughing, we both sighed loudly and continued our conversation.
“Alright, so you didn't want to call the police about the break in. Why not? How do you expect to find the person who stole it?” He asked, adding, “Remember you're talking to a cop here.”
I told him the truth. “I don't think anyone would care. This place is like a little clique. They stick together. Last night, I had to work with a group of people who were told not to speak to me unless absolutely necessary. Can you believe that? How am I supposed to do my job right, if the people I work with won't speak to me?” I could hear the hurt in my voice. I hadn't yet admitted how hurt I was by all that had happened.
“Well, that's just dumb. Who told them not to talk to you? What good would that do?” Charlie seemed genuinely concerned.
I didn't have an answer for him. If I did, I wouldn't have been in the situation I was in.
We sat quietly for a few minutes. I sipped my coffee, while Charlie took in the scenery.
“Is everything made of Carrera Marble in this town?” He examined nearby surfaces.
With all the chaos and sleep deprivation, I hadn't taken the time to take in the sights or do any sightseeing. Those were two items I had on my mental checklist of things I'd do during my month long stay.
“I never really paid attention. I haven't had much time to browse. I can tell you that the hospital is exquisitely designed. You wouldn't believe it. Now that I think about it, the floors are made of Carrera marble there too.”
“Hmm, people with money sure like to spend money, don't they?” Charlie nodded at a blonde, holding a camera outside on the sidewalk.
Typical male.
“Your eyebrows twitching.” Charlie smirked at me.
“Stop gloating. You don't know me.” I quipped.
He laughed. “For your information, I didn't notice how attractive she was until you got hot under the collar.” I willed myself not to blush.
What was it with me? I'd like to think that peri-menopause is a few years down the pike for me.
“I don't care about your love life.” I replied.
“I'll ignore that because I know what you're really trying to say to me. Anyway, that camera she has in her hand is pretty snazzy.” Charlie's eyes were
Charlie sat back, smirking, “Why do I get the feeling that you're not just talking about my investigator?”
My breath caught. What was he insinuating? I was speaking about his investigator. I think.
Chapter Eight
When I left work, all I had in mind to do was sleep the rest of the day away. Now, six hours later, all that I've managed to accomplish is discovered that my laptop is missing, open my door to find an uninvited guest, find out that not only is the local police department investigating me, but so is a private detective. If the day kept going the way it had begun, I'd probably end the day hanging off the side of a cliff.
“Why are you making that face?” Charlie groaned as he handed me my order.
“What face are you talking about? The one that should have told you hours ago to go back to Nebraska or the one that has been silently screaming at you for having someone follow me around?” I lived for sarcasm.
Charlie took a sip of the soda he'd ordered and said, “Both. Now, when you're ready to get down to business, do you think you could let me know? I'm only in town for a couple of days.”
I didn't let what I was thinking come out of my mouth. I really wanted to, but I didn't. Instead, I said something much more age appropriate, “You're mean.”
He started laughing and soon I was laughing too. We were a sight to see, I'm sure. It was a good thing that the restaurant was virtually empty at this time of day. In another hour or so, I imagined that the tables around us would have been filled with annoyed patrons. No one liked to be seated next to nuisances.
When our bellies hurt from laughing, we both sighed loudly and continued our conversation.
“Alright, so you didn't want to call the police about the break in. Why not? How do you expect to find the person who stole it?” He asked, adding, “Remember you're talking to a cop here.”
I told him the truth. “I don't think anyone would care. This place is like a little clique. They stick together. Last night, I had to work with a group of people who were told not to speak to me unless absolutely necessary. Can you believe that? How am I supposed to do my job right, if the people I work with won't speak to me?” I could hear the hurt in my voice. I hadn't yet admitted how hurt I was by all that had happened.
“Well, that's just dumb. Who told them not to talk to you? What good would that do?” Charlie seemed genuinely concerned.
I didn't have an answer for him. If I did, I wouldn't have been in the situation I was in.
We sat quietly for a few minutes. I sipped my coffee, while Charlie took in the scenery.
“Is everything made of Carrera Marble in this town?” He examined nearby surfaces.
With all the chaos and sleep deprivation, I hadn't taken the time to take in the sights or do any sightseeing. Those were two items I had on my mental checklist of things I'd do during my month long stay.
“I never really paid attention. I haven't had much time to browse. I can tell you that the hospital is exquisitely designed. You wouldn't believe it. Now that I think about it, the floors are made of Carrera marble there too.”
“Hmm, people with money sure like to spend money, don't they?” Charlie nodded at a blonde, holding a camera outside on the sidewalk.
Typical male.
“Your eyebrows twitching.” Charlie smirked at me.
“Stop gloating. You don't know me.” I quipped.
He laughed. “For your information, I didn't notice how attractive she was until you got hot under the collar.” I willed myself not to blush.
What was it with me? I'd like to think that peri-menopause is a few years down the pike for me.
“I don't care about your love life.” I replied.
“I'll ignore that because I know what you're really trying to say to me. Anyway, that camera she has in her hand is pretty snazzy.” Charlie's eyes were
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