Michael hung up. Stunned. Elated. Wow! He could not suppress that goofy grin. There! All his freaking out and worrying had been for nothing. Not only had she reached out, she was here. In Vegas- minutes from him. For once his erratically beating heart was due to a good sort of freak-out. Man! He closed his eyes, then was almost afraid to open them; scared it was all just another wishful nightmare.
“You didn’t really mean that, right?”
He almost jumped out of his skin. Then reassessed the situation.
Okay, good.
Not the reality check he would pick, but it would do.
Raymone.
Raymone was here. Raymone, who had answered his phone and who had been on the brink of hanging up on Lisa. Once again alarm bells went off. The lady had been way too controlling here lately- of course, while pretending to have only his very best interest at heart. Maybe it was time to make some significant changes.
“What was that about?” He kept his back to her and his voice even. Of course, she should have noticed the air temperature dipped, but she was not all that perceptive.
“Yeah, that’s what I would like to know....I know you must have been joking about me babysitting.”
Turning, he kept himself in perfect check. Raymone had the gall to look annoyed.
“Didn’t you say minutes ago that you were working tonight and would stay here.”
Slowly he turned and faced her.
“I said, we would bring the New Year in working, it seemed like. Now it appears you have made some plans.”
“Yes- private plans. On my private phone. Which you somehow happened to answer. And then it seemed you lied to me about who was or wasn’t on the line. Two things we need to talk about. But not tonight.”
Tonight he had totally different plans. Plans involving hope. Surprisingly. Stunningly. There was a glimmer, no, a streak of light at the dark horizon of his future. Despite all his careful safeguards to not expect a miracle, to, as a matter of fact, expect disappointment, he felt himself falling prey to the dangerous siren call of the sweetest possibility: a life with Lisa in it.
“I didn’t lie. You had said earlier you didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
Okay, obviously, he had to deal with this first. He sighed, and popped in a new piece of chewing gum.
“What I said, was that I didn’t want to talk to my father who called non-stop. I really fail to see how you translated that into I didn’t want to talk to Lisa...Miss Presley.”
The look in Raymone’s eyes as well as the slight, sneering twitching in her mouth did not escape him.
“Oh, it’s Lisa again, I see. Oh, Michael...”
God give me strength to not knock that fake look of pity of her face.
Tension spread through his body and he clenched his jaw. Keeping calm, he made sure the glint in his eyes and the sharp edge of the employed tone of voice could not possibly be misinterpreted.
“My private life is not your concern. Please remember that. And since you are on my payroll tonight, please make sure the kids don’t eat any more sweets.”
Michael started to turn, considering the conversation finished.
“I’m not your nanny, Michael.”
YOU ARE READING
Whiteout
Fanfiction"Shit- let me look at that....can you scoot over?" The apparition ignored my request. As my eyes adjusted, I knew I was dreaming. Or dying. This had to be a pre-death hallucination. "Man- if you got a phone you might wanna call an ambulance...cause...
