Missing Piece

Chapter Nine

Melanie

After helping Jenny make lunch, I paddle out of kitchen with a glass of orange juice in my hand. Once in living room, I turn on the TV and grab the remote. But before I could put something on, somebody yells, "Boo", very loudly and directly into my ear.

I scream louder than banshee and spin around in fright. I see a silhouette of man and without thinking I throw my juice at him and then proceed to hit him with remote. Not the most efficient weapon, but it'll have to do.

I attack the thief with vigor. How dare he step into my house? I'm gonna make him second guess his career choices today. He's going to regret sneaking into this house. I'd like to see him try stealing anything.

"Ow, ow. Stop woman." The intruder yelps trying to dodge my brutal attacks. "Ben?!? Come save me from this crazy witch, man."

Hearing my husband's name from the man's mouth, I stop my assault. A thief wouldn't know my husband's name.

Stepping away from him, I lower my arm with the remote. I put both remote and empty glass on coffee table and finally take a good look at the man.

My gaze moves to his caramel brown hair which is perfectly styled in messy way. He has a nice nose, but I think everybody's nose is better than mine. So, my opinion about noses doesn't really count. His jaws sport a 5'o clock shadow giving him a tough but handsome look. I then notice his stormy grey eyes which are staring daggers at me as he rubs his right arm where I might've hit him. Ouch!

His expensive white shirt is now completely stained with orange juice.

Good luck getting those stains out.

I shuffle on my feet and try to look innocent as if I wasn't just trying to kill him with a remote. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering me he repeats my question. "Who are you?"

I narrow my eyes. "I asked you first."

"But I thought about asking first. So, who are you?"

Have you ever met someone and instantly got a feeling of strong dislike for them? Well, right now I'm getting that feeling for this guy.

"I'm not telling you, 'til you tell me who you are."

He just stands there and gives me a look as if expecting me to know him. "You don't recognize me?" He asks skeptically.

Is this dude stupid? If I recognized him, why would I ask him who he is?

Still, I think for a second and ask. "Are you the guy who sold me pretzels yesterday?"

His eyes grow big, and he looks taken back by my assumption. "NO. I DID NOT SELL YOU PRETZELS."

"Okay." I'm still having a hard time remembering him. "Are you the guy whose car I spray-painted?" I take my next guess.

"No. I'm not that guy-", he freezes and stares at me with wide unblinking eyes. "YOU SPRAY-PAINTED A GUY'S CAR???" He shouts. I take a step back. "You don't spray-paint a guy's car. Do you know how important a car is to a guy? What kind of monster you are?" And then he proceeds to give me a long lecture about 'Importance of car in a man's life.'

Geez. It wasn't even his car and he's freaking out. I wonder how the Brody guy felt when he found out his car was pink.

"The guy deserved it." I defend myself. "So, if you are not the guy who sells pretzel or who's car is pink now. Then who are you?"

"How can you not know me? I have over 3 million followers on Instagram and Tik-Tok, 2 million on Twitter and 2 and half million on Facebook." He looks so proud of his achievements.