39- The music from the upstairs

The music from the upstairs could be faintly heard, but didn’t interfere with whatever sets the girls on the next floor chose for their dance routine.

The restaurant as was to be expected was full, with still more people waiting to be seated. Again I didn’t feel that spark of excitement at the money I was sure to make from the night’s haul.

I tried to shake the feeling, not exactly comfortable with the fact that she could affect me this deeply on such short acquaintance.

I had the bartender call the manager over and gave him the forms she’d filled out. “She’ll be here tomorrow for training.” I didn’t tell him any more than that before heading out the door.

I was unusually quiet on my way home in the backseat of the town car, my eyes not registering the scenery as we passed.

My mind was somewhere else in the city with a young girl who for some reason I thought needed me. Dammit Navil, get a grip.

Tony dropped me off at my penthouse apartment on Central Park South, before heading for his own place in Chelsea.

He seemed to sense my mood too, since he didn’t badger, but let me off easy.

I knew though from the look he gave me when he let me out of the car that he was thinking about what had happened earlier.

If anyone should, he’d know how out of character that was for me. I didn’t have an explanation for my actions, I just did what I did without thought. But then again who the fuck do I need to explain myself to?

I dropped my coat on a chair back and walked to the liquor cabinet to pour myself a drink. I never partake when I’m working, and hardly ever drink anyway. But tonight I needed it.

There was something going on with me that I couldn’t get a handle on. It was the girl, but what about her? I’ve had prettier, nicer women that’s for damn sure.

But there was something about her that kept pulling at me. If it was just an attraction I would know how to deal. But I couldn’t quite get a bead on what it was that I was feeling and the shit was making me antsy.

I

sat at one of the large bow windows overlooking the park deep in thought as I watched late night lovers going for carriage rides.

The lights of the surrounding buildings cast a glow on the snow that had fallen a few days ago and had yet to melt, and my mind went to the jacket she’d been wearing.

Was it warm enough for this weather? What if she gets sick? She’d said she just moved here. Maybe she’d moved from a place where the weather wasn’t as severe as it was here and didn’t have a suitable coat.

No matter how I tried telling myself that this shit was none of my business, I couldn’t convince myself. It’s the same reason I’d fed her so well tonight. It was almost a compulsion, something I couldn’t control.

What’s your story Annabelle, and why do I give a damn? I threw back the last of the cognac in the snifter and let the burn take my mind off of her for a few seconds.

It wasn’t like me to obsess like this. I wasn’t one to stick my nose in other people’s shit. But even as I sat in the comfortable warmth of my luxury apartment I worried about her. Where is she right now?Was she warm enough, was she safe? Did she even have a roof over her

head? The thought of her alone somewhere in the city unprotected made my gut hurt.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone living in a shelter came looking for a job. Word of my kindness in hiring certain types was sure to spread.

There were tons of jobs for the less educated in my places and I always went above and beyond to give everyone who needed it a shot when I could.

Is that where she’d heard about the open call for dancers? The Ad had been in all the papers and there might have been flyers around the city. I’m not sure what my team had done this time.

There was no point in worrying about it now. I won’t have any answers until I saw her again, that is if she was more forthcoming next time.I looked up the PO Box number and zip code I’d jotted down on my phone to see where exactly it was. She was in the Morningside Heights section of New York, near Colombia University.

Hmm, is that where she goes to school? If so she must be very bright, and very wealthy. Their tuition is nothing to sneeze at. I should know, I was currently paying for three kids from the Bronx to attend.

Something they never would’ve achieved if not for the special scholarship fund I’d set up for underprivileged kids in my old neighborhood.

I also knew you had to be smart as fuck to get into one of the nation’s leading Ivy league universities with its very distinguished alumni.

I’ve always been fascinated by intelligent people. Though I’d done well in school myself, I’d always been more of an athlete than a scholar.

I wonder which program she’s in? Was it medical, engineering or business? Again I was almost tempted to pick up the phone and use my resources to get that information.

She sure doesn’t act like any preppie I’ve ever known. That tough girl act of hers wasn’t something she’d just learned. At least I don’t think so.

I played around with dialing the number I’d also made note of and gave in ten minutes later after debating myself to no avail.

I held my breath and hoped it was her real number and not some random crap she’d jotted down. She seemed like the type to do that shit.