A/N: I had planned on updating a lot sooner, but somehow I don't know where time has gone. I finally managed to sit down and write a chapter, but can't promise you'll see another update before the holidays aren't over. Might even be the New Year. Sorry already for that. But thanks for all your patience.
"What a night," I thought to myself as I closed my front door behind me and kicked off my shoes. For entire way home and even now as well, my mind kept whirling around things and I wasn't entirely certain what kept it busier – the Morelli-thing and his lame excuses and behaviour or Carlos' entire approach and determination to do whatever it took to win me over. For the moment winning me over was what I worked with and would probably soon enough start wondering whether he was really trying to win me over or whether I was just posing a challenge.
I don't know whether I ever experienced such determination, especially when it came to a date. When you look at magazines or even advisory pages for online dating, they all usually say that you shouldn't sell your self short and a certain number of higher expectations – within reason – were good. But let's face it, most of us usually settled with the bare minimum of determination. We weren't used to guys actually really wanting to get to know us and do so no matter what, going the extra mile and putting in a little effort. Even back when I was at High School and my V-Card was on the table I don't think Morelli put in half the effort Carlos' seemed to display right now.
Of course, I couldn't be certain whether the thing with Carlos wouldn't just cool down as quickly as it had heated up – but maybe the two-week timeline I had set up would help in regards to that and give me some clarity as well as maybe an answer or two.
I peeled myself out of the windbreaker Carlos and left with me and wondered whether he would want it back along with the hoodie. From his last comment when he stated that the hoodie was special because I apparently had worn it one would assume that he didn't need it back, but now I had two pieces of clothing of his and something told me that I soon could extend my collection even more.
Walking into my bedroom and open the drawer to place the windbreaker in, I came to realize that Carlos Manoso already had a drawer in my place. I lived by the principle to always keep one drawer empty end when I ran out of space and needed that last drawer it was time to discard of some old clothes. Now my supposedly empty drawer was holding not only a black hoodie which was folded neatly in a box and placed inside the drawer and a second later a neatly folded windbreaker joined it.
Oddly enough, not even Morelli ever had a drawer at my place and here was Carlos Manoso, who had never been actually at my place with my prior knowledge and had a drawer. Given, he himself wasn't aware of that but… well, if that didn't tell you everything you needed to know already.
I closed the drawer, assuming there was no longer a need for me to actually sent the parcel containing the hoodie for now and went for the bathroom, feeling the real need for another shower to wash off all that rain and drizzle that also had made my hair look like I had experienced electric shocks.
Freshly showered and my hair mildly contained, I decided on calling it a night and going to bed, thinking I had enough excitement for one day. All in all, my talk with Morelli could have gone a lot worse and while I wasn't a big fan of public disputes it had one major advantage: everyone knew that we no longer were a couple and that the wedding was off. Even my mother needed to see reason that there wasn't any hope left in her small, delusional world. Though, I was certain this wasn't the last I had heard off him or anyone for that matter. I'd assume I'd wake up to a wide array of messages from all sort of people, with my mother leading them all.
It shouldn't come as a surprise that I was right. Waking up the next morning and checking my phone, my mother was in fact the first person who had left a message on my now overflowing mailbox. I could only bear a minute of her delusion without actual coffee and clicked the next message, realizing it was her once more. Either she had exceeded the maximum of length or she remembered something else she could use in order to make me see reason. I clicked next about six times more before I had a message from someone else other than my mother. Surprisingly it was Connie who was speaking, telling me she had heard about my conversation with Morelli last night. It shouldn't come as a surprise that Connie knew, seeing as she was in the Burg as well as well-connected to the PD, but the speed the news made it to her surprise me nevertheless.
Connie was followed by Mary Lou as well as Lula, and all three were following the same pattern of being happy that I finally had been able to get rid of that dead weight and was now ready to move on from the betrayal. Their methods for moving on however differed largely. Connie wanted to drag me out for another girl's night, while Mary Lou assured me, she knew just the guy for me. Lula just mentioned she was only a phone call away and was up for treasure hunting at the Treasure Pleasure. Because who needed men anyway?
My friends' messages were followed by few more from my mother and one from my grandmother as well as a few more childhood friends. Seemed like I could easily be the biggest news in the Burg for the next few days., until someone else produced another scandal or until I got myself into new trouble that could fuel a few more gossip mongers.
I started the coffee maker, listened the a few more messages and went in search for my high heels and my outfit of the day, ready to start another day at the office and ready to count down each and every second until I could go home again.
I got dressed, made myself presentable for the office, filled the coffee into a travel mug and made way to work, hoping that today might be better than yesterday. Or the day before yesterday. Or before that. Or before that. I read somewhere if you kept a positive attitude, things could happen and I hadn't given up hope just yet.
Hours later on my way back home I knew I needed a new job. It wasn't like my job was unbearable, but it wasn't far away either. As a matter of fact, in my current temp position was not one good thing happening. I hated the company, the people, the tasks and everything else as well. The only thing I actually liked was the money I made and that wasn't even a lot to begin with. The good thing about being a temp was that I knew things would come to an end sooner or later and it wasn't a forever kind of thing, but could we maybe get to the end really sooner rather than later? And almost as if my wishes had been granted, my phone rang the moment I put my car in park once home. It was the agency who informed me that the company had informed them that I was no longer needed.
Thank fucking god!
The girl on the other end was cheerily chatting away and I barely heard her say that already had my next job lined up and that this was most likely going to be not as short-lived as previous ones. Seeing as I was a temp I was usually only working at specific companies for a shorter amount of time – covering sick leave or things like that and never spent more than two or three weeks at the same company. Yes, it required of you getting used to a lot of new things in a very short amount of time, but it wasn't like I was launching space shuttles or needed to cure cancer. Also, silver lining if something really sucked – like my current assignment – I knew sooner or later I was be gone anyway. Sometimes you just needed to bid your time.
She was talking about one thing or another and I just tried keeping up with what I assumed could be critical and important information until she came to the part that made me lose track – my salary. With most jobs I was making barely minimum wage, seeing as I was unqualified and just a pretty face for most, but apparently this job would allow me to actually have something called life. While I wasn't going to get rich or start living very, very comfortable I was at least able to not having to choose between rent or food for a while. I was given the details and told to show up at 8am the next morning.
About two weeks into my new job – which I loved by the way and was going surprisingly well – I came to the conclusion that maybe I had made a mistake. Not in regards of my job, but in regards of things with Carlos. I had asked for two weeks and that seemed what he was giving me. So, it wasn't like I should complain. Ask and ye shall receive and all that. It wasn't the idea itself that made me wonder whether I had made a mistake, but rather the conclusion.
I hadn't heard anything from him for two weeks, but regularly walked into Morelli all over town, despite the fact that I tried avoiding places that I knew where his hangouts. And yet, I kept seeing him everywhere. The fact that I kept seeing Morelli everywhere and yet had no contact to Carlos did weird things with my mind and at the end I was convinced to understand his silence as the very first sign that things were cooling off. I know it sounded weird, especially since I had asked for two weeks and yet I was thinking that was it. I mean, thinking about whatever we did or had, I had slept with him on the first sight, he had broken into my place twice and I had a rather public argument with my now fiancé just to literally run into Carlos Manoso. And that all was just the first week of us meeting.
Now that the two weeks were over and there was no sign, contact or anything from him I also found myself wondering how I had actually assumed for this to continue. Was I going to call him and tell him "So, the two weeks are over…." or was I waiting for his call? And how do you make this not weird? I spent several days thinking about it and came to the conclusion he had lost interest. Why? I don't know. Maybe I was just running scared, maybe I was on to something, maybe I was just going crazy, who knew. Or maybe I waited for some sign. What that sign was supposed to be I didn't know either. It wasn't like I was insecure, but this was a situation I hadn't ever experienced before. Because, let's admit it, when it comes to dating, things are usually pretty much set and follow a certain pattern. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl and vice versa, they set up a date, have a date and then realize they like the other one enough for a second date and a third date and a fourth and so on.
While I was a modern girl and knew nothing was ever as straight forwards and simple as movies made it out to be, there always was a certain way. And having a one-night-stand that then morphed into whatever Carlos and me had been doing for a week was not really that way and more confusing than anything. And because I was so out of my depth with all of this, I also didn't know what to do really. There wasn't really a rule for how to go from here and maybe I was a chickenshit. But when I gave the two-weeks, it wasn't like I meant Don't contact me at all and I also didn't assume that's what he took away from it.
Spending another day thinking about this entire situation I was almost certain I came to the correct conclusion, so I grabbed the parcel with the hoodie I had packed a few days prior once more, placed the address sticker on the top and brought it to the post office before going into work. One door closes and all that…
Coming home that night, juggling dinner I had grabbed on the way back home as well as groceries I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted a huge bouquet of flowers sitting in front of my door. Opening my door, and putting my groceries as well as my takeout in the kitchen, I went back to get the flowers, taking a quick sniff and loving the scent, but wondering whether this was Morelli's try at reconciliation? Through the grapevine I had gotten news that Morelli was set on winning me back – for whatever reason – and I kept wondered whether that was the first step. It would for a change be something impressive if I was being honest. While the flowers wouldn't mean he'd be successful, it was at least a step up from everything he had ever done for me.
I kicked the door shut behind me and carried the huge bunch to my kitchen table, noticing how it wasn't just incredibly pretty and huge, but also heavy as hell. Placing it on the table I went in search for a card, assuming I'd find something that Morelli copied off the internet that might sound cute or romantic but also showed the amount of effort. I found a card from the shop it was sent from and realized that it was one of the more expensive ones that was the latest craze on the social network platforms. At least Morelli wasn't buying cheap and seemed to invest a little into his winning back.
Finding finally a card in the massive sea of red, white, green and orange I was surprised two ways. First of all, there was no expected cutesy message and secondly these were not from Morelli. The card read Carlos. And that was all it read. No message, no explanation, nothing. Just his name – handwritten – and that was it. Unexpected, to the point and also mysterious – just like the man himself.
What surprised me was the realization that these flowers obviously had been delivered by the shop and that for once Carlos Manoso didn't break into my place to leave a gift. Were we actually making progress? For a while I was thinking that breaking and entering could maybe be our thing. Seeing how all of this started initially. And then I remembered the parcel I had dropped of at the post office earlier today.
Guess I got my sign one way or another…