Sweet As You

(9) Cade

Cade Parkinson can deal with anything. Whether it's a terrorist attack or alien invasion, he will know exactly what to do. Hell, he can be in the middle of a combat zone and still pull through.

He's a born survivor. Well, on particular aspects that send most people running for the hills. It is pieces of cake served on different platters, all on his table.

His overly gregarious neighbor though?

Pass.

The woman has taken over the entire apartment building. He's been hearing other residents maundering on about the newly moved in 'sweet young lady' as an elderly couple that he once ride the elevator had put it.

He met her on several occasions – some of them he's too embarrassed to tell. Move-in day, Chassie and Nathaniel Forester's rehearsal dinner, at their wedding reception and last Sunday.

Sunday.

That one fateful day the world conspired to piss him off. A client he was supposed to meet that morning backed out. He soon found out why when his secretary called and told him about a petty journalist and his libelous piece about a financial product their company was representing in desperate need for a national byline.

The moron cost him the trust of his client and ignited a bad publicity for Parkinson Communications. His father called, understandably displeased of the financial story reigning on the newsstands. And on top of that, he's got a shit-ton of people to reassure the piece was a fraud and unbalanced.

It sure as hell was a lot. But he took care of it – every grueling detail of the process. Not to brag but that is what Cade Parkinson is good at: Unfucking things up.

He looked down to his watch, sighed when it read 8 P.M..

He waited for the elevator doors to open. When it did, a bunch of skimpy dressed women step out in heels. The giggles died down when they saw him. They continued on their way to the revolving doors in silence as if their tongues were shoved down their throats.

The girly giggles soon resurrected when they thought he was out of earshot.

Typical.

Cade steps inside the elevator and jabs on the control panel. As he waited, his phone beeps with consecutive messages from his mother. A message from his secretary followed. It was a reminder that he has to meet a client early in the morning tomorrow.

Typical.

The elevator dings, announcing his arrival to his floor. He takes a foot out and let the other followed suit.

One of the concierges is in the hallway with a lean framed woman in a designer dress far descent from the ones he's seen on the women downstairs. He hears the concierge laughing at something she just said.

As if sensing someone just gotten out of the elevator, Kathie turns around and smiles the bubbliest smile anyone has given him.

"Hi, Cadey." She waves at him.

He nods in recognition.

"There." The concierge opens her apartment door and greets him good evening.

Kathie's face brightens up. "Thank you so much, Justin. You're my hero."

He felt his brows wrinkled in puzzlement. She locked herself out.

"Cade, what are you doing tonight?" She moves to his side while he inserts his key in the doorknob to escape his inordinately sociable neighbor.

He pushes his door open. "The same as any other night."

"Like what?" She looks up to him, hazel eyes soft and friendly. Does she ever get tired of being nice to people?

"Like what normal people do," he answers.

She leans on his doorframe. "Normal people do different things at night. That's what makes us normal."

He shakes his head. "Good night, Kathie."

She shrugs, the ends of her hair brushing her shoulders. It is a soft shade of brown and a few slightly dark brown highlights he's guessing is from a rigid salon appointments. He wonders if her hair is as soft to touch as it's visually advertising. Or does her lips ever tire of smiling.

"Good night, Cadey." She turns to the concierge congratulating him with his newborn baby boy. How long has she lived her again? She's moved in just a few days before he did but he never really remembers the faces of the staff.

Cade then enters his apartment, thinking why on earth she keeps butchering his name.

9