up a few more things - not many - and headed for the checkout. After paying, she put everything in a leather backpack and walked quickly to the exit. She was in quite a rush. Was it always like this when she went shopping? Hurry home quickly to get out of danger?
I only now realized how much of a gift she had given me by going out to dinner. Hopefully she flew to Paris as often as possible - no one could put up with this for long!
She had chosen the exit that was closest to her apartment. She would probably bo going directly there. I was going to lose sight of her soon if I didn't hurry up. Those long legs!
As I got closer, I saw the reactions of the people who crossed her path. Some stared shamelessly at her. A couple of women ignored her so ostentatiously that I assumed they were clients of hers. She walked with a stiff back. She was getting close to home.
What should I do? As soon as she got to her building, there would be nothing left for me to do. I ducked into an alleyway that I knew intersected with the main street again several yards ahead. I ran. Panting, I rounded the corner. I'd caught up with her precisely. I almost ran into her.
Her backpack slipped. Oh, shit - the champagne! I reached for it quickly. Just before it hit the ground, we both caught the bag. Only then did she recognize me. Her face went blank.
"Thank you, ma'am," she said.
Ah! She wanted to act as though she didn't know me. Like she did with her clients. You aren't going to get rid of me that easily!
"You're very welcome," I replied. "How are you?" She was in the middle of straightening herself out and stopped dead in her tracks. She stood rather crookedly.
"That's not good for your back," I observed helpfully.
She finally stood up straight. She looked at me as though she were rather distressed. I acted as though I didn't notice. I had to get it right this time. She wouldn't be giving me a second chance.
"Would you like to have coffee?" I offered, as if we were old friends who'd just run into each other around town. "At my place?" I added with emphasis.
She still looked quite distressed. This was the chance I'd been hoping for. I decided to act. "Fine." I exhaled. I had to collect myself first. Then I pointed in the direction of my street. "I live right over there." I turned to the left. "Are you coming?"
She actually did. She walked right behind me, mostly staring straight ahead but once looking in my direction with the confusion of a deer caught in headlights. If I could just get her into my apartment quickly, everything would be all right.
What would be all right? At some point, she was going to get her wits about her again. I should just have myself lobotomized and be done with it. Leave me in peace! I protested silently.
She was still following me like a little lamb when I opened the front door. I turned to face her. "I'm afraid there's no elevator," I said apologetically. "It's an old building." I didn't get the impression that that interested her in the slightest. I started up the steps. Four stories! Why hadn't I decided to live on the ground floor?
By the time we got to my floor, the tension in my body was almost unbearable. I gasped for air, and not just from climbing the stairs. She was breathing quietly, as if four flights were nothing to her. She must be in great shape. No wonder, with her job - she'd have to stay fit! Shh, be quiet!
After I'd shut the door to my apartment behind us, I let myself exhale. We'd made it! "To the left," I directed. "In the kitchen."
She went on ahead of me. She must still be deep in shock. She still wasn't quite all there. Most likely, she'd planned on never seeing me again - and certainly not so suddenly.
I motioned to my rocking chair - the only piece of furniture that I never usually gave up for a guest. "Have a seat," I said softly. "I'll make some coffee."
She sat down. I filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner. I was starting to get a little worried. She'd have to
I only now realized how much of a gift she had given me by going out to dinner. Hopefully she flew to Paris as often as possible - no one could put up with this for long!
She had chosen the exit that was closest to her apartment. She would probably bo going directly there. I was going to lose sight of her soon if I didn't hurry up. Those long legs!
As I got closer, I saw the reactions of the people who crossed her path. Some stared shamelessly at her. A couple of women ignored her so ostentatiously that I assumed they were clients of hers. She walked with a stiff back. She was getting close to home.
What should I do? As soon as she got to her building, there would be nothing left for me to do. I ducked into an alleyway that I knew intersected with the main street again several yards ahead. I ran. Panting, I rounded the corner. I'd caught up with her precisely. I almost ran into her.
Her backpack slipped. Oh, shit - the champagne! I reached for it quickly. Just before it hit the ground, we both caught the bag. Only then did she recognize me. Her face went blank.
"Thank you, ma'am," she said.
Ah! She wanted to act as though she didn't know me. Like she did with her clients. You aren't going to get rid of me that easily!
"You're very welcome," I replied. "How are you?" She was in the middle of straightening herself out and stopped dead in her tracks. She stood rather crookedly.
"That's not good for your back," I observed helpfully.
She finally stood up straight. She looked at me as though she were rather distressed. I acted as though I didn't notice. I had to get it right this time. She wouldn't be giving me a second chance.
"Would you like to have coffee?" I offered, as if we were old friends who'd just run into each other around town. "At my place?" I added with emphasis.
She still looked quite distressed. This was the chance I'd been hoping for. I decided to act. "Fine." I exhaled. I had to collect myself first. Then I pointed in the direction of my street. "I live right over there." I turned to the left. "Are you coming?"
She actually did. She walked right behind me, mostly staring straight ahead but once looking in my direction with the confusion of a deer caught in headlights. If I could just get her into my apartment quickly, everything would be all right.
What would be all right? At some point, she was going to get her wits about her again. I should just have myself lobotomized and be done with it. Leave me in peace! I protested silently.
She was still following me like a little lamb when I opened the front door. I turned to face her. "I'm afraid there's no elevator," I said apologetically. "It's an old building." I didn't get the impression that that interested her in the slightest. I started up the steps. Four stories! Why hadn't I decided to live on the ground floor?
By the time we got to my floor, the tension in my body was almost unbearable. I gasped for air, and not just from climbing the stairs. She was breathing quietly, as if four flights were nothing to her. She must be in great shape. No wonder, with her job - she'd have to stay fit! Shh, be quiet!
After I'd shut the door to my apartment behind us, I let myself exhale. We'd made it! "To the left," I directed. "In the kitchen."
She went on ahead of me. She must still be deep in shock. She still wasn't quite all there. Most likely, she'd planned on never seeing me again - and certainly not so suddenly.
I motioned to my rocking chair - the only piece of furniture that I never usually gave up for a guest. "Have a seat," I said softly. "I'll make some coffee."
She sat down. I filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner. I was starting to get a little worried. She'd have to
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