Five

The party went late into the night, and each passing minute was hell to Chris. He had only one thing in his mind, and those clueless guests were keeping him from it.

He had to entertain the Jacksons and their daughter way longer than he'd planned, and couldn't take it anymore. To make things worse, his father decided to make an appearance right as the conversation was organically coming to an end, which added new fire to the dying dialogue. 

Of course, the theme shifted to business right away, since Mr. Jackson was one of his father's many business associates. It was Chris' business as well, but he was not as enthusiastic about the theme as the old dinosaurs of the construction industry.

“Christopher, how are you adapting to the managing director position?”

Mr. Jackson was a decent man, but he was clearly trying to impress the infamous Edgar Wright by showing an interest in his son and shamelessly parading his daughter as a prospect daughter-in-law. Chris was not in the mood.

“I'm not. I was just promoted last week”

He was not usually that harsh, especially towards his father's acquaintances. The belligerent look Edgar gave him was enough to immediately regret it, and he tried to fix it up.

“But I hope to get settled rather quickly, Mr. Jackson. I've been working hard to earn the position and I'm confident the business will thrive”

His save earned a satisfied smile from one man and a slight nod from the other, and he was glad to have averted the crisis. He needed an excuse to leave, otherwise he would keep falling out of line.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go. My neighbor just texted me saying my dog is barking non-stop, I need to get back to check on him”

“I thought your apartment was soundproof” His mother intervened.

“It is, so he must be barking really loud” Not even a child would buy that one, but a child wasn't restrained by the rules of diplomatic behavior. Calling him out on his bullshit would show a complete lack of social decorum.

He moved away from the group just in time to hear his mother's last charming remark.

“I don't know why he keeps that humongous dog”

Chris rushed upstairs to get the prized possessions of the fugitive, wanting to get it done quickly so he could head home.  His dog might not be barking, but he was definitely missing him. His mother's tone was malicious, but her words were accurate; the dog was colossal.

When he reached the room, the unlucky desk was once again a target of his frustration. None of her things were there, the bag, the phone... nothing. Did she come back?

He looked around again trying to see if she left a clue or took anything else, but something was different. The bedsheets were changed. Why? Fuck, a maid. A maid who took all of her stuff away, possibly under his mother's orders. She wasn't there.

He drove home way faster than the speed limit, gripping the wheel like it needed punishment. The oblivious doorman was mentally cursed when he dared say good night, and the poor digital lock almost crashed under his recognized fingerprint.

The only one who escaped his rage was Batman. He could never get mad at him. The almost ninety pounds dog woke up to the sound of the opening door and lazily stood to greet his owner. Thankfully, he wasn't the most active dog anymore, because his suit wouldn't survive the stamina from his puppy days. Not that a forty-pound dog could ever be considered a puppy, but still.

“Hey Batman, missed me much?” the dog answered with a resounding bark. “Me too, buddy. You know, today was fucking weird”

With the anger subsided by the presence of his dog, Chris was able to think through the events of the day. He only needed to close his eyes to get back to that moment. The performance was so hauntingly beautiful, and the woman displayed a mysterious aura that called to him. He wanted to touch her so badly, just to prove to himself she was real.

But then the glass shattered. Couldn't she have taken anything else from that drawer? He had literally filled the thing with millions worth of jewelry and stones precisely to keep the ring safe.

He knew there were better ways to do it, probably an actual safe or something, but he didn't think a thief would pay much attention to it with so many valuable items at display around the house.

Despite his late bedtime, Chris woke up at the usual time. For the past several years he hadn't been able to escape the affair his internal alarm clock had with early mornings. When he tried really hard, he could stay in bed until seven. Usually, he got tired of trying by six-thirty.

He decided to go for a run before placing the calls he needed, knowing it was too early to bug Michelle for the agency's contact. He got the leash and called for Batman, who was loudly playing with a squeaky toy. The dog was a great partner for longer runs.

The park across his condo was small but had a nice tracking course between the trees that guaranteed a comfortable shadow for their ride. He didn't mind the sun, but Batman had a thick fur that wasn't suited for the heat.

He tried to build a steady pace but was feeling off his game. After forty-five minutes of a run that would be forever engraved in his tracking watch as his worse time ever, he decided to call it quits. Batman was clearly tired of following his erratic rhythm and the usually soothing environment was getting under his skin. And he knew exactly who to blame.

He checked his watch, hoping the time was decent enough to call his mother's assistant. It was Sunday, but he knew the woman didn't believe in weekends. If he had to wait another hour, he'd probably kick something. Lucky for him, it was already eight in the morning.

“Hi Christopher, how are you doing?”

“Hi Michelle, sorry for the early call”

“Nonsense, I've been up for hours. What can I do for you?”

“I need the contact of the agency you used to hire the performer last night”

Before he could provide the sensible explanation he devised during his run, he heard a beep.

“There you go. Ask for Michael; he was the one who helped me out”

Damn, the woman was efficient. No wonder his mother kept her around for the last twelve years.

“Thank you, Michelle”

“No worries, kiddo” She replied before hanging up.

He wanted to hate how she called him kiddo, but the truth was she met him when he was only sixteen. She couldn't help it. He checked his cell for the contact and took a deep breath before placing the call.

After over fifteen useless minutes of explaining the situation to an inefficient attendant, he finally got her to transfer to Michael. He could feel the thief getting closer, he was waiting in line to talk directly to her agent. His lips were suffering from all his anticipation biting.

“Michelle, my darling, how did you like my girl? Perfect or what?” The voice on the other side of the line was high pitched and loud as hell. He fumbled with his phone that almost dropped from his hands at the tone.

“Hello, Michael?”

“You are not Michelle”

“No, I'm Chris. I was wondering if you could help me out with the contact information on the girl that performed last night”

“Sorry, I can't help you” There was a clear shift in tone, several tones lower than the first time he spoke. It seemed to hold a note of… annoyance? Why?

“You don't understand, I need to reach out to her”

“Do you know how many times a day I get on the phone with people with that same issue?”

“Listen to me, Michael. She took something from me.”

“Let me guess, your heart?” Chris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“She stole something from my house. A valuable item, personal. I need to get it back”

“Ok. I suggest you call the police because I won't give you her number”

And without further ado, he hung up. The idiot had the guts to hang up on his face.