But all that changed as she sat in the narrow, second-story office of Chancellor’s Furniture Store, downloading the last of the month’s sales invoices off a tediously slow computer. It had been raining off and on all day, and she glanced out the small pane-window to see which it was, on or off.
It was gloomy and bleak and the street lights glowed in soft pools along the sidewalks below. In the pool directly across from the store, the pale light ricocheted off a very large pair of ruby slippers.
He leaned against the lamp post, as if waiting for a bus, but came to attention when he saw her looking down at him. He waved wildly and flashed a wide white grin. He looked delighted to see her. She felt a little delighted herself.
Still, the coincidence of him showing up at her father’s viewing and funeral, then their favorite restaurant, and now outside a client’s business were adding up. And not looking good.
But, weren’t stalkers more stealthy than this? Considerably less obvious? Shouldn’t she feel him watching her, not see him everywhere? And where were his keepers? Surely he’d been missed by now at whatever facility he’d escaped from. Shouldn’t there be people out looking for him?
How could anyone miss seeing him, she wondered, observing the absolute indifference to him in the other pedestrians. Seattle was not an indifferent town. Big and busy, yes, but the absurd and outrageous still turned heads. Her heart twisted at the thought that she might be the only one watching this poor, unfortunate man slipping through the cracks of society.
She did have the good sense to be afraid of his sudden attachment to her… or would have had it, if he exuded even the mildest wave of rancor or aggression. But the plain fact was, he didn’t. Approachability, congeniality and kindness. She sensed these things about him – along with a faint underlying familiarity.
The real problem was that even if he weren’t dressed like a clown, even if he seemed like the most normal guy in the world, she still wouldn’t know what to do about him. More to the point, what she should do about his perplexing interest in her. She wasn’t great with men. He clearly needed a friend and for some reason he’d chosen her, but… wouldn’t the best and kindest thing for her to do for him be to call the authorities, get him the help he so obviously needed?
„Charlotte?“ She turned from the window as Henry Chancellor entered his office with two styrofoam cups of coffee. „Am I too late? Are you finished? You take yours black, don’t you?“
She nodded and took the cup he handed her. „I just finished. You need a new computer up here, Henry.“
„I know. The newer ones downstairs are much faster but… I know this one.“
Comfort in familiarity, she’d invented the concept. „I need the social security number for the new mover you hired. But I have everything else I need for this month. Looks like your Beat the Bunny Pre-Easter sale did very well.“
„It’s the season. By the end of March people have forgotten how expensive Christmas was, they’ve spent the whole gloomy wet winter indoors with their furniture, so they’re ready to buy new in the first light of spring. And don’t worry about the boy. He’s my wife’s nephew. I hired him for the month, for the sale. Friday is his last day. He needed to earn some extra money. I’ve been paying him out of petty cash.“ He held up a hand to keep her from speaking. „And, yes, I wrote it down for you.“
He started to cross behind her to a stack of papers on the far side of the desk, but she stood quickly and put her back to the window, giving him his place at his desk – and blocking his view of the street below.
„He wants to take his girlfriend to the prom in a limousine. Ah, here it is.“ He ripped off the top sheet of a note pad and handed it to her over his shoulder, waiting for her to walk around him, so he could lean back. But if she did that, he could see out the window. He scooted his chair forward, adding more room to the already adequate space for her to move around him. She glanced over her shoulder to the street and the man waved at her to come down to him. „Can you get through back there?“
„Oh. Yes. I just…“ She’d have to distract him. She leaned down and picked up her brief case. „I was just thinking that I didn’t go to my prom. Did you?“
He swiveled his chair to the left, away from the window, and smiled nostalgically. „I took my wife, as a matter of fact. My father lent me his 1959 Chevy Belair, and she was the prettiest one there.“ She smiled at the warmth in his voice. „My wife, that is… although that Chevy was something to look at, too.“ She laughed, as he’d hoped she would, and then he narrowed his eyes at her. „Do you have a moment to talk, Charlotte?“
She glanced at the window, at the coffee in her hand, then back at him. „Sure.“
He waited for her to sit in the empty chair beside his desk, keeping his back to the window. „I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your father.“
„Thank you.“
„Will you be all right? Businesswise? I know he had a great many clients. Will you be adding them to yours, or won’t you have time for them?“
„Oh.“ She was anxious to get away – hoping her strange friend wouldn’t wander off before she could get to him, then hoping he would. „I’ll keep some of them. There are several companies that he started with as small businesses, they grew, and he stayed with them. They took up a lot of his time. A lot of my time, too, recently. But they should have their own in-house accountants now. I’ll weed those out and keep most of the smaller businesses. The next few months will be a little hectic but it should work out fine.“
„Not too much for just one person?“
„No. Well, yes, but I’ll be fine.“ It wasn’t like she had a lot of other things to do with her time.
„You’re sure?“ She recognized the look in his eyes and sighed. It was the sympathetic, well-meaning look that invariably preceded a discussion of her nonexistent love life. „The reason I’m asking is, my wife’s ex-sister-in-law’s nephew is the… ah, um… you know, the main money man for this big chain of hotels, actually several chains with different names. They do fast food, too. And rental cars. He’s the vice president of money or something but they call it something else… ah…“
„Controller? Auditor? CFO? Chief financial officer?“
„Yes, that’s it. In Chicago. He travels a good deal, works long hours. A very nice, quiet, young fellow. He was out here last fall on a visit and fell in love with the water and the mountains and all the greenery – you know how people do. Says he wants to downsize his life a little, enjoy more of it while he’s still young…“
What if a patrol car happens to drive by? Cops get paid to notice the strange and unusual. Would they check with missing persons before or after they confiscated his shoes and locked him up? she wondered.
„… up and quit his job.“ Henry went on. „Luckily, he’s single, did I mention that? A very nice, quiet, young guy.
Anyway, he’s packing up and moving out here. Expect him any day now.“
„Bold move.“
„Gutsy, I thought, and smart, too. Figuring out early that money isn’t everything. Life is short, you know?“ He looked uncomfortable in light of her recent loss. „Anyway, I believe he has plenty of money set aside but he’s not ready to retire just yet, so he’s looking for work. Something smaller. Something challenging. And when my wife told me all this, she seemed very enthused with the idea of the two of you at least meeting. Since you have so much in common,“ he added, looking even more uncomfortable. „Perhaps you could work out some sort of business arrangement. Maybe… who knows? A nice, quiet, single young man… and you. Who knows what might happen?“
It started as a low grumble deep in her belly, then escalated to a high pitched screaming in her head. No, no, no! Nice, quiet man is a synonym for miserable, boring loser! I don’t want to have anything in common with that! I want more! I need more! I want bold, confident and determined! I want exciting! I want sexy! I want Alpha! I want passion and laughter and… and someone who will see me as more than a nice, quiet woman! I want a life! I want to live! I want to get out of here!