Then she covered her mouth and giggled as her cheeks took on a rosy blush. "Oh, sorry. No offense. I didn't mean to call professional sports trivial."
"None taken." Granted, it's not like saving lives.
"So, where do you want to do… Um, I mean, where do you want this?"
"How about over there?" She pointed to the longest wall.
"Okay. So do you have a couple of drop cloths or a newspaper or anything? I can stick something smooth under the legs and push it myself without scratching your floors." She chuckled.
"They're your floors, I believe. And, yeah, I'm sure I can find something."
She pulled the tape off a box marked Kitchen and searched through it until she fished out a couple of potholders fashioned of stretchy, colored strips—the kind a child probably crafted.
"This should help," Shirley said.
"Perfect." He held up his hands as if they were playing catch.
She simply walked over beside him and dropped one beside each leg of the couch.
"Can you lift it a little? I will push it under."
"Oh, sure." Boy, did he feel out of his element with this unimpressed woman? He hoped she didn't think of him as a dumb jock. By the time her major furniture had been placed and set up, he had expended some physical energy and released most of his tension. I wonder if she has a serious boyfriend?
"So, would you like to come up to my place and see what I mean about uncomfortable, hoity-toity furniture?" He demanded.
"I would, but I am exhausted. Maybe another time?" She answered.
"Sure. Of course. How about tomorrow night? I could make you a welcome to your new home dinner unless you already have plans…" He insisted.
"I had love that, believe me, but I have to work." She shook her head.
Crap. You are striking out, Baker. "That's too bad. You're a nurse, right?"
"Yeah. I work at Chicago General on the evening shift."
"That must not be very convenient for a nightlife." Come on, sweetheart. Give me a hint. I'm dying over here.
"Tell me about it. I can't wait to have some kind of life now that I'm out from under my father's thumb. In case you could not tell, he's a little overprotective." She laughed.
"Actually, he's a lot overprotective." He added.
Charlie chuckled. "He just seemed like a nice, caring father."
"He behaved himself in front of you. If I don't call him tomorrow, he will be all over my case and chew me out like I skipped school. I don't usually tell people this right off the bat, but we lost my mother when I was sixteen. She had just stepped out for a carton of milk and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was second-degree murder, but the guy got off with manslaughter. Ever since then, he's barely let me out of his sight."
"I'm so sorry." Charlie could relate to a hovering, smothering father.
His dad had attended every game and as many practices as he could from Little League on. Charlie suspected it had more to do with checking up on his athletic prowess and making sure the family "condition" remained a well-guarded secret than offering moral support.
Damn. He caught himself just staring at her. She had the softest-looking skin and he wanted to reach out and caress her cheek.
Later, Baker. Don't blow it even if it's much later. And he hoped it wouldn't be. He desperately wanted what everyone else had a loving family.
And he had until Spring Training to find the one or give it up for another long, lonely year. Leo the ghost drifted up from the apartment and settled in to haunt his new landlord for the evening. Charlie was back in his pristine penthouse apartment, pacing and mumbling to himself.
"I can't believe I got shot down," he grumbled.
"The first time in years a girl has said no to a date with me and I even offered to cook! That usually crumbles even the most reluctant woman. I probably just asked her at a bad time. She seemed tired. More like exhausted. She had unpacking to do… Damn it, why am I making excuses for her? She said no to me!"
Sighing, he halted and let his eyes roam over his showroom penthouse.
"I hate this place. It feels like some billionaire's mansion—a chick billionaire! And I probably put the rotten designer on the road to fame and fortune by giving her free reign." Leo grimaced.
I knew he had regretted that. Charlie suddenly shivered as chills ran up his spine. Easy, man. I didn't mean to give you the willies by actually touching you, but I like to mock people by pacing right behind them. I didn't know you were going to stop so suddenly. Maybe you should save this crap for your therapist.
Don't all rich people have a therapist? "Now what? I hate to confront people. I'd rather just donate the whole pile to charity and go shopping for myself. Hmm. Since it's off-season and I have a little time to myself, I could ask Shirley to go shopping with me to help pick out new furniture. It would give me an excuse to see her again. Damn, I had like to shop downstairs in Apartment 1B. I keep thinking about that comfortable couch in Shirley's apartment and how I had love to be straddled on it." Leo grinned. Ah, now we're finally getting to the good stuff! Lay it on me, brother.
Charlie grabbed the cordless telephone and dialed a long number he knew by heart. "Hi, Mom. Yeah, it's been a while. How are things back in good Vermont?"
After a short pause, he said, "I need to vent. I met a girl. A friendly girl who didn't throw herself at me and didn't even know who I was."
He scratched his head. "Yeah, it's rare and weirdly refreshing. But she shot me down. I'm used to women wanting me well, almost used to it, but it's probably just for my money or so they can brag about doing a professional athlete."
He chuckled. "Sorry, Mom."
Leo gave an exaggerated sigh. Oh, you poor baby. I'd have given my left nut to be in your position when I was alive and horny.
Charlie sighed and lowered himself onto the low armless chair. "I'm getting used to being used, and now I've become another kind of player. All of this goes against my upbringing and values. You raised me better than that."
Again, I feel for you, man. You're actually breaking my heart. "You taught me to treat all women with respect. You drummed into my head that one-night stands aren't okay. But I've had a lot of those more than I'd care to admit."