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“All of what?”
I wish that she’ll stop talking in riddles and get to the point.
“The bike, the Merc and the Cruiser.”
Fuck!
All my vehicles have been taken in the blink of an eye. It shows that I haven’t been paying attention. I knew that they were coming for the Mercedes, but all of them.
I feel weak as I step away from her and use the door to balance me. She doesn’t stop talking as she starts to get in a panic.
“They had some papers, and I thought that it was you, so I opened the gates. I didn’t ask properly because I just came in and wanted to talk to you about something and the
n when I saw you not in. I just let them in and then by the time I realize that they, not you. It was too late,” she sighs as she’s probably reliving this morning.
“Why did they come so early?”
I’m talking to myself if she’d just come in and she tends to get her around seven to seven-thirty they must have come real early. Especially for a Saturday morning.
“This not the first time they come. Just I never get to tell you before. But they come. Cars are gone and me sorry. So sorry, Señor Turner.”
I nod my head, “It’s not your fault.” I pat her on the shoulder as I walk inside leaving the door wide open. I stand in the hallway like a jilted groom not knowing what to do with myself. I can hear Rosetta telling me over and over again that she’s sorry. I told her that it wasn’t her fault, I’m not going to repeat myself. She told me the bad news. The only thing on my sober mind is that I need a fucking drink like a newborn baby needs milk. I know why Rosetta was looking for me this morning, she hasn’t been paid in weeks. I can’t deal with that right now.
She knows that I’m fucking pissed about the cars.
I just can’t deal with another fucking thing right now. Not until after I’ve had a drink.
Chapter Eight
Valentina
I can’t believe that I’m in Eric Turner’s house. Okay, this isn’t the way that I expected to meet him, but the idea that I’m here has me completely star struck. I woke up and discovered that he’s not in bed. Part of me felt so embarrassed about the fact that I’d given myself to him in so many ways.
I debate for a minute whether to jump in the shower or not? It’s not my house, and I’m making myself at home.
Then again, I can’t see Eric begrudging me for taking a shower, at least to freshen up before seeing him again. I crawl out of bed and then walk across into the bathroom. The same one that he was giving me a body rub in not too long ago. I stand by the door wondering whether to lock it or not. It’s really silly because it’s obvious that he lives alone. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been taking me on a grand tour trying to make me come in every part of the house. Even then I don’t think that we went everywhere. I didn’t even know where we were most of the time. I knew that he just couldn’t get enough and I was ever so willing to give it to him.
I’m smiling as I get into the shower and I don’t want to take too long. I’m supposed to be working later tonight, and I need to be on my best behavior especially after the way I spoke to Janice. She’s probably ready to replace me. Yesterday it was my birthday, and I had a feeling that she wanted to make me miserable. I was on a high, and I planned to stay that way for the rest of the day. Nothing was going to bring me down, even one of her pep talks. Usually, I listen and tell myself that she's the voice of reason. She has experience, and I just wasn’t in the mood. I’ll buy her a bottle of Joel Gott Cabernet Sauvignon, her favorite wine, and hope that she forgives me. I’m a hard worker; she can’t deny that. One little bump in the road, shouldn’t mean that she’s going to sack me. Well, I hope not.
I jump out of the shower because I'm spending a bit too much time in there while getting lost in my thoughts. The water was sending me back to sleep and making me feel nostalgic. I grab one of the towels on the rack and try to dry every part of me as quickly as possible. I know that it’s impossible with my hair. Luckily I have a band in my purse, so I’ll just wrap it into a lose bun. That’s what I do on most days.
As I head to the bedroom, there’s still no Eric. I want to call out, but then I feel shy about doing that. Damn!
Last night was so comfortable being around him, and now I feel shy. It’s crazy because there isn’t any part of my body that he hasn’t touched, licked or even tasted. I shake my head as I put the towel on the towel rack in the bathroom and then put on my clothes and grabbing my purse I head out of the door.
I decide to head down the stairs and see if maybe he’s in the kitchen or something when I hear a noise. It sounds like a bottle breaking, and I immediately rush to the sound, but I’m not the other one as I bump into a small Latino lady by the door. She turns her head as she has a faint smile on her face. I do the same and see Eric on the floor in front of his picture. He’s just thrown a bottle at it.
“Eric?”
“Señor Turner!”
The lady blurts out by my side.
What’s going on?
She shouts out, “I get it cleaned. Don’t worry Señor Turner. I do it.”
But I don’t think that he cares. As he gets up and just walks past me as I stand as if I’m frozen in time. Then he starts heading up the stairs. I want to walk back out of the door because I expected us to have an awkward moment together. Not like this, I didn’t think that he would get mad, but it can’t be about me. It must be about something else.
