F o u r

I resolved to take a taxi. I woke up three hours later; the party had simmered down, a few bodies laid on the couch, and there were empty cups, bottles, and garbage all over the floor. Locking the door behind me, I walked down slowly.

I rested my head on the door and fought with all my force to not fall asleep again. I hugged my bag pack to my chest and looped an arm around the duffel bag.

"We're here miss."

My eyes snapped open. I looked around me, confused. The driver looked at me, annoyed, even scrunched up his nose. Maybe because I stink off recreation all around me. I handed the cab fare and crawled out the door, and balanced myself all the way to the gate. I squinted my eyes, trying to figure one which number was which. I finally got it top open on the second try and started walking down the long path towards the house. I would have loved the view any other day, but today I was barely able to stay vertical. Both bags threatened to throw me to the floor. I shifted on my feet, tripping and losing footing once or twice. I became a klutz when I was sleepy.

"Dolores?"

There he was, covered with a robe, long pants, and barefoot. He walked towards me with a scowl on his beautiful face.

"Is Dolly." I murmured.

"Here, let me-"

"Is fine, I can do it." He clicks his tongue and moves closer. I'm stubborn, but I guess he's more.  He ripped the duffel off my shoulder, making me wobble for a few seconds while my body adjusted to just balancing one heavy bag instead of the two.

"You can't even stand up straight." It sounded more like a reprimand than a fact. Yes, I was tired, even a little high from all the fumes that crawled into my bedroom while I tried to sleep.

"I'm tired."

I don't know how I made it all the way to the back of the house without knocking down one single thing. I didn't even care he had been following me. I threw myself onto the bed and closed my eyes, rubbing my face on the clean surface. My whole body wept in joy. There was no music, no odor, and no loud voices. Just peace and him. I felt like being moved. My body was lifted for a few seconds and straightened. I complained and tried to get away from the nosy hands, but they just slapped my hands away softly.

My shoes were gone, and my glasses lifted from my face.

I must have slept like the dead too because when I woke up, there was a blanket over me, my bags laid neatly on the foot of the bed, and there laid a sticky note, with the same fancy print; CALL JAMESON ASAP. Nothing else. It was noon, and I still wore the same clothes and smelled like body sweat and a little more. I pushed myself out of the room and into the tiny bathroom. I washed my hair four times, scrubbed my body until my skin felt raw. He had probably smelled me and thought the worse. If he wanted me to call his assistant, it could easily mean I was about to get fired. Out my happy place. Back to the sad reality of life. I was pooped.

I was sitting on the floor with my hair still damp, wrapped in my bathrobe, and shaking as the phone rang. I prayed silently as I waited.

"Miss Kirby."

"Hello."

"How did you sleep?"

Crap. Double Crap. Crap.

"Good." I wasn't sure if I should ask the same, so I just bit my lip and waited.

"That's wonderful news," he said, a little bit too cheery. "Mr. Westbrook phoned me earlier. He wants you to leave the old apartment on West Street and move to the house within the end of the week."

What?

"You there Dolores?"

"Yes."

"Did you just heard what I said?"

"I have to move." My lip trembled. For some reason, I felt a mixture of fear and excitement.

"Yes Dolores. Move within this week," he repeated. "Try to do it as soon as you can. Westbrook will be back in two days. I advise you to do it before that."

"I have school. I have classes, I have to study for a test," I started mumbling onto the phone.

"When you have time to do it?"

I started going through my schedule in my head. Back in two days, it was only Tuesday. He said by the end of the week and now two days. I could ask Lin for help, but she had things to do. "I'm not sure, I could do some tonight with help."

"Good."

"I, well. Can my friend help? I know I can't have people over but I really have no time at all."

"I'll go and help too. I have to be there tonight also."

Oh. Am I finally able to see who the deep voice belongs to? I hung up. I felt like I was going to vomit.

I remembered the earlier events; the call telling me to come home, then in the entrance when he helped me with my bags. Now I had to move to the house, completely. What happened to me not being there when he was? I forgot to ask Jameson. Good thing he was coming tonight. I called Lin, and she seemed excited to see the inside of the house I now lived in. I didn't tell her about me talking directly with her. I also called my roommate and left him a message about me moving out.

I sat in class, barely able to understand what was going on. I wrote down the main subject we were focusing on. I promised myself to have a read about it before the next class. I was too nervous to concentrate, even eat. I hurried to West Street and climbed the stairs in twos. The place was still dirty from the party, but I ignored everything. One good thing about living like this, I kept everything in inboxes. The few things were out of place; I started folding and looking for places to stick into empty spaces.

"You're half way done!" Exclaimed Lin as soon as she entered the room.

"Barely. We have to get all this down the stairs and onto a cab," I needed brute force. I needed manly solid arms.

"Crap."

"You took the words of my mouth."

"Explain me now why you have to move?"

I started from the beginning, from the incident with the computer to the phone call with Jameson. We moved fast. I pushed my plastic boxes to the front door. My books were stacked inside a brown carton box, and black plastic bags filled the remains. What was left was the heavy things, the things we couldn't carry down the stairs.

Two hours later, we were on our way through the path of the entry of the big house. Lin oohed and ahead at every single thing. It was annoying, really. "Could you stop?" I was sweating. I hated lifting stuff. My arms and feet complained about every movement, every grunt. Now there was a pile of things in the middle of my room, including us. Her cheeks were stained red from work, and her hair was stuck to her face. Still, she had the energy to keep asking me questions about what he'd looked like rumpled and fresh out of bed. Hot. Steamy-hot and edible to the last bite. There were so many adjectives that I could say and verbs that I just expressed that the man was unfair to the world and that if I hadn't been so drunk in sleep, I might have melted in a puddle of nerves.

We drank water and sat by my bed talking, waiting for the attractive man on the other side of the phone to make his appearance.

"I will wait a few more minutes, is a little bit late but I am curious too." A few minutes past nine, and he still hadn't appeared. I walked Lin to the door and pressed a few bills on her hand. I offered to pay for her cab if she let me sleepover when Westbrook came back.

"Is that the taxi?"

"I guess." We started walking towards the entrance, but as the main gate began to open, we halted and waited. "Maybe is not."

The dark car moved slowly over the paved surface. I grabbed her by the arm and pushed her from the vehicle's way.

"Miss Kirby, sorry to keep you waiting. There was a little wreck down the road."

"Jesus." I heard Lin whisper beside me.

Let me describe him because Patrick Jameson was nothing like I had imagined him. He was dark, with curly brown hair and green eyes. Mid-height and a little on the skinny side but oh my, his smile and the way his eyes wrinkled around the eyes when he showed his teeth made him seem like an evil lion.

The work attire made him seem approachable, but how could any woman do their work around him. I was more stunned by the effect on Lin; she was the blunt one, the one that was able to flirt to whomever, and now, flushed face and mute, she resembled how I acted in front of cute guys most of the time.

"Good evening." He said to both of us. "Let's get inside."

"Actually Lin was just leaving." He frowned in her direction and then around his. "By taxi," I added quickly.

"Well it hasn't arrived yet." But he wasn't looking at me; his interest in my friend seemed to grow as the seconds passed by. She hadn't moved or let go of my arm. I wanted to laugh at all this. So Lin Jung is interested too.