Daddy's Perfect Match

Chapter 7

Charlotte's Point of View

I thought James liked what he saw but now he's left his room! Am I that gross to look at?
No. I tell myself, and I wipe my misty eyes. I'm pretty. I'm a princess. And I look cute. And James is stupid.

"Ding dong"
It's a Sunday afternoon and both my parents are home. I open my door a crack and sit by it. I can hear my mom letting someone in.
"Hello Ms. Perkins. I've heard great things about you from Mrs. Mansfield, you know, from the blue house? She says you've done great things for the neighborhood beautification committee. "
I can't hear what my mom says back
"Don't be shy! She says those lovely flower boxes were your idea. But I'm here because your friendly daughter brought me some cookies this morning! I'm James Douglas, I moved in next door. I brought the plate back and I wanted to properly thank her"
Properly thank me? Mom gives him directions to my room. I hear his heavy footfalls. I'm suddenly embarrassed by my skimpy get up, so I dive into my comforter. I clutch my stuffed elephant Prissy, and wait,my heart pounding through my chest.
The door swings slowly open and there he is. So handsome next to my light teal walls and my ballerina music box. He's fills up my door frame and gives me a crooked smile.
He stalks quietly in, slowly closing the door and carefully, silently, turning the latch. Every second stretches long like taffy as he approaches my bed in slow motion. He leans down his head, closer, closer. And lays a feather soft kiss on my forehead. I hold my breath like I'm trying to not scare away a butterfly that has landed on my face. Then he kisses one cheek, and the next, then he presses those lips , warm and soft against mine. Prissy the elephant squishes between our chests. I untangle my hands from her fur and try to catch his head. He pulls away slow and sweet and chuckles
"Naughty girl" he brushes his thumb on my cheek "have you been crying?"
"Nuh uh"
He frowns like he doesn't believe me.
"Where's your phone, sweet thing?"
I grope around for my phone. He sees it on the side table, picks it up, and hands it to me to unlock. He takes it back and I can see him clicking intently. He hands it back, brushes his lips on my forehead once more, stands up, and he's out the door.
I sit here for five full minutes, staring up, bewildered. I finally look down at my phone. He's texted himself from it and added his number as a contact. His name?

"Daddy James"