Chapter 19 Crystal
Crystal
I’d called the apartment three times already. Three times, and each time I got my goddamn machine. Where was he? I picked up the phone again and hit the redial button. After listening to my outgoing message, I yelled: “Neville, if you’re there pick up. Neville!”
Nothing.
I slammed the phone down and thought of how sick this was.
He’d been there for little over a week, cooking and cleaning for me, massaging my feet, entertaining me with his around-the-world stories, and then leaving me every evening to “just hang out,” he said.
The man had been a perfect gentleman, hadn’t even attempted to make a move on me, and here I was acting like a jealous wife!
I felt so possessive of him, and I didn’t understand why that was.
Maybe he was just stupid; because it was apparent that I was throwing myself at him like a cheap rag!
Walking around the apartment in the skimpiest, sexiest outfits I could dig out of my wardrobe, and sometimes I had even started sleeping with my bedroom door open. Wide open!
And still he hadn’t made a move.
I know he didn’t think I was ugly. He told me every day how beautiful I was. Well, come to think of it, maybe he was just being nice?
I snatched up my pocketbook and pulled out my compact. Staring at myself in the mirror, I tried to see what it was that disgusted him so.
There was a small pimple forming on my chin. My eyebrows did need a touch-up and—oh, my God!—was that a whisker growing out of the side of my face!
I snapped the compact closed, picked up the phone, and called Elizabeth Arden. I needed a facial and quick!
As the phone at the spa rang, a small voice whispered at the back of my mind, Maybe he’s just not that into you.