Chapter 2 - Call me Chris

2757 Words
...... Lia ...... Ty drops me home, and I head straight for my kitchen to pack my cereals. I take off my coat and head outside to fetch my clothes from the washing line, and I start folding them. Just then, my phone rings, and it's my cousin. “Hey cuz, finally up?” “God! Yes. I’m so hungry,” she replies, yawning and probably stretching too. “Get up your lazy bum and make yourself something to eat, woman.” I playfully scold her, using my left shoulder to keep the phone in place while I continue with what I was doing. “Dylan’s on it, love.” “Dylan? Didn’t you say he was out of the country?” “He was, but he phoned last night, saying he was on his way back. His trip was cut short, so I told him I’m here. “Oh, okay. So, are we still on for tonight, then? Or is he coming with?” “Yes, we’re still going. And no, he’s not coming with.” “Well, if he wants to, or you want him to, it’s not a problem. I can ask Ty to come too. He said he wanted to rest, but I know he’d come if I asked him.” “Nah, let’s go with our original plan; you, Mel, and myself. Let’s have a girl’s fun night out.” “Fine by me if you’re certain that’s what you want.” “Yeah, I’m sure. Listen, I have to go. Breakfast, lunch, or whatever it is, is ready. Remember, we must leave before 8 pm, so be here by 7 pm.” “7 pm it is. Later then.” “Later, mwhaaa!” Melissa is Dylan’s sister, and she also stays in Joburg. She and Sabrina have become very close, and I must say, I’m impressed. Sabrina’s not easy to get along with. She’s strong-willed, a go-getter, and very protective of her family, but she’s also not one to bite her tongue. It has always been difficult for her to make friends because of this. She calls it as she sees it, and it rubs most people up the wrong way. She’s two years older than me, and we weren't close until she moved out here. Now we spend more time together than we have in the past. We are family, so even though we’re not best friends, we still love and care for each other. I look at the time, and it’s 3:20 pm. The time is just flying, and I wanted to take a quick nap before heading to her place. Maybe I still can if I do it now. I take off my shoes and climb onto the bed. I’ll make the time if I wake up at 4:20 pm. An hour’s nap should do. I set my alarm for 4:20 pm and plug my phone into the charger next to my bed since my battery is very flat. And It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep. . . . . I wake up and look around, wondering if I slept less than an hour because my alarm did not go off. I look at my phone, and it’s off. My battery completely died. I did not properly insert the charger into the plug. Getting up, I rush to the kitchen to look at the time, and it’s 6:05 pm. I run back to the bathroom to take a shower. Now I’m definitely not going to make 7 pm. I finish my shower, blow dry my hair just a little, using cold air, so it doesn’t drip water, and I leave my natural curls. After applying some lotion, a bit of blush, mascara, and vibrant melon lipstick, I put on my silver teardrop earrings and take out what I’m going to wear. I struggle a bit to decide before finally settling on a light blue long sleeve off-shoulder dress that hugs my body and stops right above my knees and silver stilettos. I love silver. My mom says I’m obsessed. I finish at 7:05 pm, grab my purse, phone, and car keys, and head out the door. I hurriedly get into my car and take off. Just as I get on the freeway, my phone rings, and it's my dad. “Hi, dad.” “Hey, darling, how’s my little girl?” he asks, and I can tell he’s smiling even though I can’t see him. I miss him so much. “Little girl? Dad, really? I’m twenty-six,” I reply with a smile of my own, “I haven’t been little in a long time.” “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re a hundred and twenty-six. You’ll always be my little girl.” “A hundred and twenty-six? Now you’re just being extra," I reply, and we both laugh. "Anyway, I’m great, dad. How are you doing?” “I’m well, sweetheart; I miss my angel, that’s all. I thought I’d be used to it by now, considering it’s been more than a year of not seeing each other as often as I’ve become used to again since I’ve been back at home, but it’s not.” “I know, I miss you guys so much too, and it doesn’t help that I’m too busy at work to take leave at this time. I’ll make a plan, though, I promise.” “I know, sweetheart, and I understand. I have some news. I have taken up a project in Russia starting in July month-end. The offer has been there for a while, but I only signed on the dotted line yesterday. We’ll be shooting the documentary I told you about last week, and we’ll be there for eight months.” “Oh, wow! That’s big. Congratulations dad. I know you’ll do an impressive job. You always do.” I tell him, feeling very proud of him. “Thank you, sweetheart. Are you driving?” “I was. I’m on my way to Sabrina, but now I’m making a quick stop at the gas station,” I reply, making a detour into the gas station. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were driving. I must get off the phone then. You know how I feel about calling people while they’re driving.” “It’s okay, dad, the phone’s on speaker. I have both hands on the steering wheel,” I assure him. He doesn’t like chatting on the cell phone while driving. It’s pretty weird, considering he’s a journalist and constantly receives calls, regardless. But then again, it’s his job. It doesn’t mean he likes it. “Good. I didn’t know Sabrina was over there.” “She is, but just for the weekend. She’s going back to Joburg on Monday. So, we’re doing a girl’s night out tonight.” “I’m glad you girls are taking time to unwind and enjoy yourselves. However, please be careful. You’ve only lived there for a year, and it’s not long enough to know a place. And even if you did know it well, I would still like you girls to be cautious.” “We’ll be careful, dad. I promise.” “Good. Well, I have to go now. I’ll speak to you later. Enjoy yourselves. I love you.” “I love you more, dad. Have a wonderful evening, too.” I end the call as I stop next to the gas pump. . . . . “Good evening, Ma’am. What can I help you with this evening?” asks the attendant. “Evening. Unleaded, full tank, please. And could you please take a look at my back tires as well?” “Sure thing, ma’am,” he replies and starts filling my car, and I thank him. I grab my phone to tell Sabrina I'm on my way, but something catches my eye. I turn my head for a better look, and it’s my dream car, the Porsche 911 Turbo S. It’s black, and it’s absolutely breathtaking. I love sports cars. Since I was little, I’ve always been fascinated by them. My father thought I’d be in the car manufacturing industry, and so did I. The driver slides down his right window and, damn! He’s just as hot as his ride. I'm still drooling at him when I see him roughly run his hands over his face in a frustrated manner before I hear him cuss. “Sir?” the attendant next to him says, and he says he forgot his wallet at home. “Can I make a bank p*****t on my phone?” I hear him ask, and the attendant says he can, but I see him look for his phone, and I realize he doesn't have it either. He stops and pinches the bridge of his nose, and just then, the attendant speaks, asking if he forgot his phone too, sounding more like a statement than a question, and the guy says yes. “I’m sorry,” he adds, “Do you maybe have a phone I can use?” he asks the attendant, and the attendant says he'll be right back before walking over to the one busy with my car. “Please, watch that he doesn’t drive off. I’m going to call Darren,” he says, looking frustrated. “Another one?” the one busy with me asks, and the other one nods.“Yeah," before letting out an exasperated sigh. “How much?” “R1744.00, and I’m so not in the mood for this,” he mutters the last part more to himself, but I hear him. “Sure, I’ll watch him,” the second says, and the other one walks away. “Thank you,” I speak, bringing his attention back to me as I hand him back the card machine after completing the transaction. “Thank you, Ma’am, and have yourself a wonderful evening,” he says, with a polite smile on his face, and I thank him and wish him a wonderful evening too, my mind somewhere else now as I reply to him. I’m now worried about the guy in the Porsche. I can see he’s really stressed. I start my car to leave, but after glancing at him again, something tells me to help him. So I park on the side, get out of the car and walk back to him. I know I’d like someone to help me, too, if I were in his situation. He doesn’t see me as I approach his right window, so I speak up. “Hi, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help but overhear you forgot your wallet.” I say, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looks at me like he’s shocked and wants to say something else but decides against it. “Yes, I did.” “I’m sorry. I’d like to help settle your bill,” I offer but see a look I can't decipher on his face. “That’s very kind of you, Miss. Thank you, but I can’t let you do that,” he immediately declines my offer, making me confused. “Why not? I don’t mind.” I don't know why but I have an idea, so I insist. I don’t know him, but I’m pretty sure if situations were reversed, he’d do the same, and he’d find it strange if I refused. So why is he refusing my help? Is it because I’m a woman? A man can come to a woman’s aid, but a woman can’t do the same for a man? I can’t help but feel offended at the thought. “You don’t know me, and – I’ll manage. I’m about to call someone and-” “-Or you could just accept my help and make my evening,” I cut him off with a smile, and he stays silent for a moment, probably taken aback by my persistence. And after what feels like a long time under his intense gaze, my confidence starts to wear off. I start feeling weird and intimidated, but just as I’m about to apologize and explain I just wanted to help, he starts to smile. “Well, okay then. I guess now that you put it like that, I could, and I do," he says, and I let out an internal sigh of relief. It was starting to get awkward. I seemed like a crazy stalker for a second there. “Thank you. I promise I will pay you back today. It’s just been a bit chaotic this evening,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose again, and I figure this nose-pinching is something he does when stressed. “Card or cash, Ma’am?” the attendant asks, startling me. I didn’t even see him come back. “Card, please, “I reply, turning to face him, and taking out the card. “That’ll be R1744.05, thanks,” he says, and I hand him the card. He hands me the machine after inserting the card, and I complete the transaction and give him back the device. After the transaction, the gentleman I just helped thanks me again, and I nod with a smile, telling him he's welcome. He starts the engine and moves away from the pumps, and I also walk back to my car. I open the door, and just as I’m about to get in, I hear him call out to me, and I stop. ”Sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he says, walking over to me, and I tell him my name, pressing the car door closed as I lean on it. “Christian Muller, but everybody calls me Chris,” nice to meet you, Miss Logan, he says, extending his hand, and I take it. “Please call me Lia. It’s nice to meet you too.” I reply, shaking his hand. “Again, thank you… for helping me out. It was starting to get really frustrating. You are very kind,” he says with a sincere look on his face, and I don't know why but I blush, causing him to smile. “So, how are we going to do this? I could send you an eWallet as soon as I get home if you don’t mind giving me your number. But if you mind, I totally understand. We could do it whichever way you’re comfortable with.” “An eWallet is fine. I’ll grab a pen and write my number for you,” I reply, turning to my car and grabbing a tissue. I quickly write my number and hand it to him. “Thank you. I’ll do it as soon as I get home," he says, and I open my mouth to tell him whenever is fine with me, but my phone rings, cutting me off. “Sorry,” I softly mutter, reaching inside the car to retrieve it before looking at the caller ID and then back at Chris. “Please, excuse me for a minute?” “Sure, go ahead,” he says, and I turn away from him as I answer. “I’m almost there. Just give me five minutes,” I say to my cousin, and she says I better be. I'm known for being late, and Sabrina hates it. “You could swear I’m late to a funeral or something,” I mutter to myself, turning to face Chris again after we end the call. I must have been louder than I thought cause next, I find him with an awkward smile on his face while scratching the back of his neck with a guilty look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. If it weren’t for me, you would be gone by now," he says, but I tell him it's okay. My cousin is just being dramatic before adding I have to go. “Yes, of course. Thanks again, and have a wonderful evening,” he says, reaching behind me and opening the car door for me. “Thank you, have a great evening too,” I reply, sitting inside the car, and he closes the door. I start the engine, but before pulling away, I take one last look at him, and I find him standing next to his car, looking at me. He waves, smiling and I return the smile, waving back while thinking, damn! He's hot. I check him out in the rearview mirror as I pull away, and I find myself unconsciously biting my lower lip. Damn!
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