Heal Me

Chapter Thirteen

My day was supposed to go like this: Fret about money, call Dad, get money wired, have coffee, go to work, go home, drink wine, play game. So far, nothing was going the way I'd hoped for, and one thing was going better.

Mason insisted on walking me to work, and by the time I'd ended my grueling four-hour session with control-freak Jen, he was there to walk me home. As soon as I came out the front doors, coat zipped up tight against the wind, I could see him waiting with his hands in his pockets, the bottom of his right foot resting against the brick at his back. He seemed to be concentrating on the stream of cars passing through the grey of dusk.

"Hey again," I called, approaching hesitantly. "Have you been out here this whole time?"

He gave me a confident grin. "I'm not stalking you. I promise."

Unable to contain myself, I laughed. He couldn't know the reason, and I didn't inform him. "Maybe I like stalkers," was all I said.

He offered a quirky, sideways glance. We started in the direction of my apartment building, me slightly in the lead. Every few feet we walked through a cone of white light from the streetlights.

"Maybe this is your way of finding out where I live..." I said, only half joking. The prior day had left me even more pessimistic about people.

"Actually," he paused as a bus splashed loudly passed us. "I have your first name and a basic physical description. I wouldn't need much more to find your address."

"No way." I shook my head, disbelieving his claim.

"True story – but I wouldn't." He kicked a soda can that was in our way. "I was just thinking about the money your roommate owes, and..." He trailed off and shrugged. For a guy who'd only met me twice, he was a little overprotective, but I didn't mind.

"You worried?" I asked him.

"Maybe."

The little butterflies came alive again. I was supposed to go home and argue with Cat and Sarah about who was first to work the streets. (I mean, Cat has the business savvy, but Sarah has the experience...) Then I had a date with the game, microphone and all... Still, here I was, letting a very sweet, very mysterious, very attractive guy walk me home. A guy who made a ton of money and chose his own hours... What was a girl to do?

"Well, I was a little worried." He smiled down at me. "But I was a lot bored."

"Oh, yeah?" I laughed. "So glad I could fill that little void."

We joked, and teased, and grew even more comfortable in each others' company. Soon we were stepping out of the elevator leading to my tenth floor apartment. The sound of fighting came through my front door which was open because Craig, the manager, was fixing the deadbolt.

"Laura, Laura," he muttered, shaking his head from side to side. "This is trouble, I tell you. And we talked about this when you moved in. I said to myself, these are nice girls! Not girls that cause trouble!"

"Yeah, Craig." Even though I was only barely above five feet, I could meet him eye for eye. He was a little, balding Italian who used a lot of hand motions whenever he talked. "Sorry. Won't happen again."

Hopefully.

Mason was eyeing us both with confusion.

Craig went on - even though Cat was inside shouting about loan sharks and bleeding to death. "I just don't want to see anybody getting hurt now," he told me.

Mason whispered, "Loan sharks?"

"Yeah, that's the part of the story I left out earlier," I answered, sheepishly. "You might as well come on in..."