Catherine
I needed to sit down but I wouldn't take the risk of completely letting my guard down just yet.
There was a shirtless man in my apartment claiming to be Godsent. Sure, he looked sweet as sin, but sins aren't exactly a good thing. This must be some kind of joke. He might be a psycho-stalker and heard me last night while I was drunk. With that sudden thought, my hands started to break out in a cold sweat.
I looked down in horror as I realized that I, too, was half-naked. Oh glob, what if he saw my underwear. I was in a state of panic but he just leaned back by the sink and ate his – my apple.
"How much did you spend?" I asked, staring at his face. I wasn't meant to ask this but I needed to clear my head. This would be a good way to distract him.
He probably had his face done so women wouldn't panic when he stabbed them to death. I saw him wiping some apple juice from his mouth with his thumb, a look of confusion on his face.
This man resembled the book covers of the historical romance novels that I stashed back in high school.
"Excuse me?" It seems like he didn't get the question. I could tell by the way his brows furrowed. I was supposed to ask an indirect question, but he was rude enough to trespass and steal my food. Surely, I have the right to be rude, too.
"Your face looks too good. Did you get anything done? How much did it cost you? "I knew from the way his lips twitched that he was trying not to smile.
"Can't a man be good-looking just because he got lucky?"
"I didn't call you good-looking," I said, trying to sound indifferent.
"Then why would you assume that I went under the knife?" He raised an eyebrow.
I opened my mouth. Closed it
"Since you're done eating my apple. You should leave." I slowly but casually walked towards the living room. I was giving him the chance to leave scot-free. Once I reach my phone, and he still isn't out of my apartment, he'll be explaining about his trespassing, apple-stealing tale to the cops.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard him laugh. It gave me the chills, but for some reason, drew me to the sound of his voice. "Your apple? Your apple? I can leave now that I've had a taste of your...apple?"
Okay now I was confused. Why was he laughing? I just woke up a couple of minutes ago. What was so funny about apples?
"Your name's Catherine Wright. Your mom owns a restaurant in the next city, and your dad's some kind of businessman. You also have a sister, Aubrey? You're in your twenties. I'm not going to say exactly since they say it's rude to talk about a woman's age. Oh and you read to publish books for a living."
He looked so proud afterwards. I looked back to see him still in the kitchen, looking like he owned the place.
Red warning lights were flashing inside my head. Definitely a psycho-stalker.
He got your sister's name wrong, Catherine. Maybe he or the guy he hired misheard Audrey's name.
He stood up and started walking towards me. There was that feeling again from last night. It felt like he was trying to lure me in.
Panic. Right, I had to panic!
I started running for the front door, but he spoke quickly before I could reach the doorknob.
"Catherine, please! I mean no harm, really. Look, I need a place to crash and I know the lady who owns the building. I've been here way before you even lived here. I need a place that isn't a couch to—" Before he could even finish what he was saying, he yawned. His eyes weren't luring me in anymore. He could barely keep them open.
"Look, Catherine. Just listen to me. I haven't had enough sleep and if you run out that door screaming without any pants on, I am most definitely going to jail. I do not want to get some shut-eye near a smelly dude who got caught because of DUI. Now I'm going to walk up to the couch slowly, and we're both going to behave like grown folks." He rubbed the stubble on his jaw, trying to suppress another yawn.
"Look here, mister – "
"Shush shush. I'll wait until you put some pants on, and we're going to talk. Alright, Miss Wright?"
After a brief moment of silence, I nodded. I was still processing what was going on by the time I sat opposite him in the living room.
"I thought you wanted this," he murmured..
"You honestly believe that I would buy what you just said? That you were my answered prayer from God. From the God Almighty. Creator of heaven and earth. What? God decided that 'Hey she looks so helpless maybe I should answer her half-assed prayer for once. Maybe that would stop her whining.'" I said in disbelief.
"Well I wasn't exactly the one who asked for a man." He lifted one foot on my coffee table.
"Get your foot off my table. And FYI, I asked for a distraction not a man."
I looked down at my hands. I couldn't even believe I was having this kind of conversation with a stranger. But then I realized, it was highly unusual for me to talk, much less argue with someone other than my sister.
"Well what exactly are you missing in your life right now? You already have the basics covered. A man is exactly what you need. Men can cook these days. Do you need to vent about some chick named Samantha? I'm your guy. Tired? I learned this massage back in Thailand. I'm not God but I could work miracles."
I was utterly speechless. This man was practically selling himself out to me and I was kind of considering it.
"What? Say something," he said. I just sat there. The gears in my brain are working overtime trying to make sense of it all.
I wasn't given enough time to answer when I heard a knock on the door. Damon turned to look at me as if asking who should open it. I ended up opening it. It was the landlady, Mrs. Johnson. We call her Ellie. She says it makes her feel young.
"I heard heavy footsteps from downstairs. Is everything alright?" Ellie's voice was soft as she peeped over my shoulder. Her apartment was below mine. Thank the heavens. "As a matter of fact, no. There's a ma-"
"Damon! When did you get here?" She excused herself and walked past me to hug the man inside my living room.
"Hello, Ellie. You're looking lovely today. I hope you don't mind. I used the key you gave me a year ago." He smiled at her. It looked ridiculous seeing a sweet old lady and a huge man hugging each other.
"Uh, how about me? I mind."
Ellie looked at me, surprised." Oh dear. I forgot to tell you! I gave him a key right before you moved in. He's been coming here since he was just a little boy, and I've been pestering him to move. An office isn't a place for a young man to live in."
I scrunch my eyebrows and try to recall what happened the night before. I remember having a brief conversation with her, but I couldn't really remember what we were talking about. How awful was last night that my mind just went on autopilot but didn't save any of the gameplay. I remember agreeing to something and her asking if I was sure.
"Well," Ellie looked nervously at Damon and I. "I can vouch for him, Catherine. I've known him since he was ten, he wouldn't hurt a fly."
I wanted to disagree with her. At that moment she sounded like the mothers of the kids I used to go with. They weren't little angels. Looking at Damon, I was convinced that we both knew he would most definitely hurt more than a fly.
"I should be going. My cat needs to be fed. Be good, Damon." The old woman pinched his cheek and walked out. Before I closed the door, she leaned towards me.
"I trust that man with my life but if you ever feel uncomfortable, I'm downstairs. Just jump five times so I could hear you. I may be an old lady but I played baseball back in my heyday," she whispered, but i was loud enough that I know the man could here it, too.
All I could do was nod as I closed the door and turned to look at him. His face said I told you so.
"How..." My voice trailed off as he gave me a triumphant smile.
"Tell me, Miss Wright. Do you believe in, oh I don't know...divine intervention?"
I walked past him. I needed to get myself an apple. I turned towards him when I saw him following me leisurely to the kitchen.
"Now we can talk." I said.
He couldn't stop smiling. He was probably relieved that he wasn't stabbed nor in jail.