Unlikely Places

Chapter 6 Jerks Can Show Concern, Too

My mind suddenly flashed to my dream. God it had been him, I realized for sure as I stared at the lips that had stroked my jaw as I slept. It had done more than that to me in my dreams. Memories of waking up with a painful erection this morning left me no choice but to admit it had done so much more.

Jeez! Hold up a minute. I had known the man a matter of minutes all total and he had been nice for maybe only one of those. Talk about getting ahead of myself.

What was I even thinking?

He had been an antagonistic jerk and now he was showing up at my home. If anything, I should be concerned at his stalker like behavior. What was wrong with me? Why was my dream and my reality blending together in my mind acting as if any of this was acceptable when it was anything but?

"Why are you here?" I suddenly blurted out.

It should have been the first thing out of my mouth when I saw him but he had distracted me. I couldn't let him keep doing that.

He countered with a question of his own.

"Why do you have panic attacks?"

I was taken aback by the frankness of the question. Weren't people more circumspect about butting into people's personal lives? But then again, it was this guy doing the asking. Common courtesy should be the one thing I shouldn't expect from him.

Why was he asking to begin with? I looked at his face, brought up short by the look in his eyes. Why did he look so concerned? For me?

The worry surprised me and I found myself answering before I could stop myself.

"It just happens sometimes," I said with a shrug.

"I don't like it," he replied with a serious face.

Surprising myself, I smiled. Well for a second, I did. His expression tightened even more at my look of amusement and I could tell I had somehow insulted him. That made me feel uncomfortable again so I clamped my lips together and stopped.

I couldn't help but be surprised, though. He didn't seem the type to care, especially about a stranger. I guess jerks can show concern, too.

Having been sidetracked yet again and feeling the need to say something into the tense silence I spoke.

"You never did answer my question. Why are you here?"

It was his turn to shrug. "I told you, you work for me."

"So?" I asked. "I've worked for the company for about eight years in some capacity or other. Which means I have been working directly for you," I said pointing my finger at him, "About two of those years since that's when your father retired. I never had a visit to my house from you or anyone but Mr. Jones in all that time. So, I repeat. Why are you here? And on a Saturday?"

He eyed me with a frown. I frowned back. That was actually an easy thing for me to do for a change. When it came to frowning, I was in my element. It was the smiling, socializing, happy-happy chitchat that I didn't excel at.

"You don't work a regular nine to five. So, it being Saturday shouldn't make a difference. And like you said, I'm in charge now. If I want to change things up that's my prerogative. If I want to make a personal visit to an employee who handles very sensitive financial information why can't I? Especially," he paused, eyeing me up and down.

His look activated in my body that dreaded zinging current I now associated only with him. I suppressed the involuntary shivers that were begging to run rampant in the various nerve endings throughout my frame. It was a battle I won... barely.