Page 7 of Shadowing Charlotte
I was so engrossed in my reading that Saydiah had to knock on my door and remind me to go to lunch. "There's a little café across the street that has to-die-for sandwiches," she informed me with a smile. I nodded and went to clock out.
Chapter eight
Alexander
Itapped my fingers impatiently against the counter at the rental place, glancing at the clock. I knew I should have just gone in the day before, but I had a potential client that had to meet at noon. By the time our meeting had ended, it was already closed.
It was almost seven thirty. I'd been standing at the stupid desk for fifteen minutes, waiting for the new girl to get her shit together.
"Gray or blue?" she finally asked, returning with two sets of keys.
"Gray," I replied, glancing at the clock again, as if watching it would somehow slow time. Gray would stand out less.
"Perfect. Follow me, Mr. Roberts," she replied with a coy smile that made me roll my eyes. She'd been trying to flirt with me from the moment I walked in. Apparently, she thought that would make her seem more competent. The Camry was perfect. No loud rumble when it started, no recognizable fucking sticker on the back.
I rounded the corner of Charlotte's street just as she pulled out of the drive, dancing in her seat as she sang along to whatever music she was blasting in the Jeep. The clock on the dash read 7:46. If Charlotte started work at eight, she was going to be late, and still, she stopped at Starbucks, pulling into the drive-thru without a care in the world.
She stepped through the door of an office building titled 'Hewart',only a couple minutes before eight.Smooth, I thought, smirking as she made it right on time. My phone rang as I pulled away from the curb, unable to park on the street.
"Mr. Guzman," I greeted.
"Any luck?" he asked. Miguel Guzman was my only client, paying me a large sum to follow his wife around for a few hours a day while he was at work.
"Nothing to note, as of yet. I'm heading to the house now," I replied. All these fucks with money to blow, and they couldn't even trust their own spouses,
"Send me anything you find."
"Will do." I agreed. I'd been watching Vanessa for weeks. Other than spending his money on excessive maintenance, Mrs. Guzman had yet to do anything that would raise alarm bells. I drove straight to Miguel's house, parking across the street. His wife was in the kitchen, only slightly visible through the half-cracked blinds. For twenty minutes, I watched her mix some kind of drink and down the glass, before grabbing her sunglasses and leaving the house.
As I did so many times with Charlotte, I drove a few cars behind Mrs. Guzman, careful to switch lanes long after she had. I rolled my eyes when her Rover pulled into the spa for the second time in less than a week. If she was having some kind of affair, the only person it could be with was her masseuse.
When she emerged, I followed her straight back to the house, where she remained for the next two hours. The job, while paying well, was fucking boring. Glancing at the clock, I figured I would have time to grab something to eat before my stomach decided to devour itself. Charlotte's work was less than fifteen minutes away and I wanted to see where she went during her break.
I pulled into the parking structure and strolled down the sidewalk, leaning against the neighboring building and grabbing out a smoke. 12:18.
The butt was crushed beneath my boot only a few seconds before she pushed open the glass door. She looked beautiful, the way she always did. There was something about seeing her so dressed up, though. Almost like she was trying to be someone that she wasn't. Her expensive pants clung to her curves in all the right places, and her blouse was just conservative enough to be considered business attire. I couldn't help but smirk, knowing exactly what she looked like beneath all the finery.
Charlotte glanced up and down the street before crossing. She froze when she caught sight of me lighting up another cigarette. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she turned and beelined straight toward me.
"I thought we had an agreement," she greeted with a stern tone, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. I couldn't help but think of how her pretty mouth would look wrapped around my dick.
"I never agreed to anything," I answered, taking a long drag. Charlotte stared.
"At least stop smoking," she snapped, with a sneer of disgust. Her angry expression was adorable; I couldn't help but smile down at her. "I'm surprised the house didn't reek after your little visit."
"Planning on having me back sometime soon, then?" I grinned at her. If she didn't want me to smoke, she knew I would be around for a while.
With a cute little huff of irritation, she opened her purse and began to dig through it, trying to locate something. "Here…" She handed me a tiny brick of plastic, ELFBAR written down the edge. "Seriously, smoking is fucking disgusting," she insisted.
"So, you'd rather smell… 'strawberry kiwi ice' on me?" I asked with a wry smile.
"I'd rather not smell you at all." she replied venomously, "but you seem rather dedicated to this sick game, so…"
"So…?"
"So, I'm not going to have the smell of fucking cancer sticks trailing after me." she finished with another sneer, her nose wrinkling. It made her freckles more noticeable, and I couldn't bite back my grin. Staring into her warm eyes, I took a long puff, my own eyes widening in surprise. It was fucking good. Sweet and minty, with just the right amount of nicotine to give me a head high.
"Not bad…"I relented, pleased with the way her eyes sparkled.
