"Wait, wait, wait…." I said frowning. "Are you really saying what I think you are?" I asked.
The older man nodded grimly and lit a cigar, settling onto his plush leather chair. He blew a perfect ring of smoke, and it encompassed Nick's face. It was evident from the look on his face that he was trying not to cough.
"Paul comes every afternoon after school to distribute the mail throughout the office. He was hired last week. Well, little did he know that Ms. Coy was expecting much more than your average package."
My eyes were glued with interest to this man.
"What Ms. Coy wasn't planning on, was a good Christian young man who knew enough to get the Hell out of the situation and notify the authorities. Trouble is…how do you charge a woman with assault and sexual harassment?"
I nodded in agreement, it was a sticky situation. I knew that in New Hampshire it wasn't even possible to charge a woman with such, but I wasn't familiar with Florida state laws.
Nick shifted his position in the seat, "If you need a testimony from me, I'd be more than glad to exchange a few words with the police." He volunteered.
The older man nodded "that's precisely what I was leading up to." After taking another sacred drag from his cigar, he placed his hand on his chest, indicating his sincerity. "I just want you to know, that I am so very sorry for the trouble she has caused you. I really don't know where to begin…"
Nick rubbed his eyes and then shrugged his shoulders sadly. "You know, one of the attitudes I've had to have is one of tolerance. I mean…I've said this once and I'll say it again. People are gonna think what they want to…and if they really think that I'm the kind of guy who is out to hurt them…well then that's what they choose to think. I can't stop 'em."
I looked at Nick "but you can!" I said forcefully. "I don't understand your fixation with not caring what these people think of you Nick," I said irritably.
Nick gave me one of those utter one more word and you die looks.
I sighed and crossed my arms in front of my chest as Nick abruptly stood up. "I'll keep in touch," he said smoothly and exited the office, and I followed after shaking hands with the editor.
"Seriously Nick….listen to me…" I said, trying to keep up with his long legged strides.
"As far as I'm concerned there's nothing more to say. All of my fans hate me and that's fine. I don't care. Obviously they were never real fans anyways."
"Look…it's Prick Carter!" shouted a young girl out in the parking lot. She was probably in her early teens.
Nick's strides became larger and I found myself jogging to keep up with him.
Nick came to an abrupt stop in front of his truck and gasped.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Someone had taken white spray paint and written Loser! on the windshield. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it was also written on both the passenger's door and the driver's door.
Nick uttered what sounded like a cross between a growl and a whimper, making my heart go out to him. He pounded his fist on the hood to the vehicle and lowered his head onto the crook of his arm.
I gently grabbed his keys from his hand, and guided my friend to the passenger side of the truck.
"Do you know what this means Selen?' he said a few minutes later.
I didn't know exactly what to say, so I didn't even acknowledge his words.
"They really don't like me anymore," he said sadly, drawing invisible shapes on the window with his fingers. "They really don't."