Carla’s Prince

“Come upstairs,” he said when Vince picked up and hung up before he had a chance to say anything back.

He took a long deep breath and slowly ran his hand on the bed. He had not slept in it since he made love to Carla in it. Ever since then, he had been sleeping in the guest room downstairs because even though he’d had the bedding changed, Carla’s scent still lingered. It might as well have been all in his mind but he did not care.

“Come in, Vince,” he said without getting up.

“Sir?” Vince said.

“Call Gloria Chandler and tell her I need a Van Gogh copy. It does not matter which one but it has to be one of the ones owned by the family. Tell her I need it by the morning and then call the three people I dismissed and tell them to be here tomorrow morning as well. Eight o’clock sharp.”

Vince nodded.

“Of course.”

“Gloria should be here at nine, not earlier,” Cristoff went on.

“Whatever you say.”

“Thanks, Vince.”

“Is there anything else you would like?” he asked. “Maybe for dinner?”

“Call Chez Marie. Just tell the chef to get me my special.”

Vince walked out of the room and left him alone on the bed. He thought back to his conversation with Carla earlier. He did not know if he was going to see her the following day but he truly wished that she would show up. If that was the last time he saw her, then he would have wanted her to hear him out. Maybe look into her eyes as he told her how he felt about her, told her what he was really about and why it was so difficult to understand him.

He took a long deep breath and sighed as he reached for his phone. He wanted to send a long text professing his love to her yet again but he knew better. So, instead, he just typed in a simple message.

All done.

                                                                        *****

Carla walked into Thomas’ office all smiles.

“We are a go,” she announced.

“That was fast,” he said and she nodded.

“Yeah, it was. Now, it is up to us to come through with the police on our end.”

“I’ll make the call.”

“Then I guess I will head out. I’ll pass by the precinct and handle things on the ground.”

“Thanks, Gibson,” Thomas said, looking up at her as he held the phone to his ear. “That will be of tremendous help.”

She smiled before she walked out of his office and then out to her desk. She did not really have to leave the office that early. She could have stayed on a little longer but she needed to be alone. Even though every time she was alone she just seemed to spiral and read more about this Countess Stephanie Tempest character, she still needed it. Just to be alone with no one else there.

She passed by a Domino’s Pizza joint on the way home as well as Popeye’s chicken. She could not really make up her mind as to what she wanted. She always craved junk food when she was low and lately she had been lower than ever especially when she found out who Stephanie Tempest really was. She was the real deal, the full package: beautiful, sexy, and more important than anything, she was from his world. She knew things about him that Carla only wished she could understand. For Carla, Stephanie was not just anyone, she was the woman who had made her rethink every thought she had spared Cristoff.

She opened the door to the apartment and sighed loudly when she heard the TV blaring. Company was the last thing she needed.

“Carla,” Brenda said when she walked in. “What are you doing home so early? Are you feeling okay?”

Carla nodded as she put the food on the kitchen counter.

“And you brought pizza and fried chicken.” Brenda raised an eyebrow over the other. “Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“Me? What’s going on with you?” Carla asked. “It is two in the afternoon and you are home.”

“Well, if you got out of your room a little, you might have heard me say that I was taking a few days to recover from the Atlanta Fashion Week.”

It was Carla’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“You went to Atlanta?” she asked.

“Carla, I was away for three days and you didn’t even notice?” Brenda was more concerned than hurt. “Now, you have really got me worried.”

Carla rolled her eyes and grabbed the chicken.

“I’m fine,” she said as she walked to the couch.