James returned home from work and tried to open the door to the penthouse but something was blocking the door from opening completely.
"Let me get that," James heard Georgia's voice from inside the room. "Try now."
James opened the door and stood face to face with Georgia. "What was that about?"
"Haven't you figured out that once in a while I like to wedge a kitchen chair against the door?" Georgia asked with an uneasy laugh.
"Georgia?" James cut her off.
"Okay," Georgia finally gave in. "I've been concerned about a few things, lately."
"What would make you so concerned as to put a chair against the door?" James wanted to know.
Georgia was just about to answer, but then there was a knock on the door. Georgia latched onto James' arm as they walked over to answer it.
"What is wrong?" James whispered.
Georgia slowly opened the door, but then was relieved to see Brenda standing on the other side.
"This was in your mailbox," Brenda told her, giving her an envelope. "It must have arrived late, I was just about to leave for the night, when I saw it placed in your box downstairs."
"Thanks, Brenda," Georgia replied, taking the envelope and holding it close to her. "Have a safe ride home and I'll see you tomorrow," she finished, as she shut the door.
"Who would send you a letter this late at night?" James wanted to know.
Georgia didn't answer him, as she tore away at the envelope. She gasped and put her hand over heart as she read to herself the contents of the letter.
James took the letter and laughed when he read it. "What kind of jokester would say something like this?"
Georgia took the letter back. "I like your pink slippers, keep wearing them," Georgia read the letter aloud. She turned back to James, as she let the letter flutter to the ground.
"Who saw you wearing those slippers?" James continued to laugh, pointing down to her slippers.
"Can't you see I'm taking this seriously?" Georgia asked him. "No one sees me wearing these slippers, James, no one. I only wear them at night when I'm up here."
"Maybe you accidentally went downstairs with them once," James suggested.
"No, James, no," Georgia nervously told him, as she bent down and picked up the letter. "No one sees me wearing these slippers, and that's why this letter makes me all the more afraid."
James' expression turned serious, as he felt Georgia lean into him, and he embraced her. He wasn't sure what was going on with her, but he'd be sure to find out.
Trey sipped his scotch, as he stood next to his balcony in deep thought, over looking what was a crystal clear night.
A knock on the door prompted him to put his scotch down on the table, and walk over the door in order to answer it.
"Frankie, love," Trey greeted. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."
"It's late," Frankie reminded him. "When you said that you'd be in touch, I didn't think it would be an hour later!"
"I had an idea and I was just so eager to tell you about it," Trey told her, enthusiastically.
"I don't even know you that well," Frankie once again lamented.
"That's true, but we do have people in common," Trey reminded her. "Don't forget, I'm helping you get Ryan back, so your child will know who his or her father is."
"You're doing it for yourself, too!" Frankie exclaimed.
"Love," Trey sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "You are helping me one time with my Georgia Caldwell project, which will last me for a while, but what I'm doing for you… will last a lifetime. We're talking about your FAMILY."
Frankie seemed interested about that. "So, your idea has something to do with how you're going to help me get Ryan back?"
"No!" Trey exclaimed, matter-of-factly. "That's your responsibility," he reminded her. "I'm telling you my idea for the other half of our alliance… the Georgia half," he finished, with a somewhat evil grin.
"I wish I didn't have to think of my own plan," Frankie sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "But do tell me about your plan… love."
"See, tomorrow Georgia will be reaching a special decision regarding my employment at her bank. All I need you to do, is just call me in the middle of my meeting and we'll have a fake business conversation, just so it sounds like I'll be doing a lot for that company if she hires me," Trey explained. "I think it would be more effective like that."
"Well, what are you REALLY going to be doing if you get that job?" Frankie wanted to know. "I don't want to help a criminal!"
Trey laughed and put his hand on her shoulder. "Dear, I am far from being a criminal," he said, as he moved in close to her. "In fact, if you got to know me better... you'd give me another title."
Frankie stepped back from Trey and walked to the other side of the room. "I wouldn't count on it," she replied. "If you do something criminally wrong there, and Ryan finds out that I helped you get the job there in the first place, then Ryan and I will be in even worse shape!"
"All you have to do is call me," Trey explained, making it sound simple. "I'm not going to say, 'Oh, look, Georgia, my client Frankie Stone is on the other end!'" he gave an example. "I'll even give you a faux name, if that'll ease your mind."
"Don't mention any names unless you have to," Frankie sternly told him. "How do I know when to call?"
"I'm going to head over there around ten, so call a few minutes after," Trey explained.
"Okay," Frankie agreed. "Then, you'll help me with Ryan?"
"Certainly!" Trey exclaimed. "Just do me this one… very simple favor."
Before Frankie could answer, another knock on the door could be heard. "Well, I need to get going, anyway."
"Frankie, just go in the bathroom while I see who that is," Trey directed her.
"You want me to hide?" Frankie asked in shock. "Not hide, just... disappear," Trey pointed to the bathroom. "Please!"
Trey watched as Frankie disappeared into the bathroom, and then he went to answer his door to find Phil standing there.
"You won't believe what that lady downstairs just told me," Phil angrily started.
Trey widened his eyes to encourage him to continue. "What did she say?"
"She said my room hasn't been paid for," Phil replied. "You said you would help me out."
"I-I did," Trey stuttered. "How could she say a thing like that?"
"Well, she did," Phil once again reiterated. "You know I came on this trip with you and even helped you with the airfare, but I don't have the money right now to pay for my room. Do you think you could help me out?"
"I'm actually pressed for cash, myself," Trey muttered, displaying his wallet.
"I could always just stay in this room then," Phil mentioned.
"I'm afraid that would be impossible," Trey quickly replied. "You see, I'm hardly going to be here if I get that job and-"
"So?" Phil cut him off. "I don't need a babysitter, I can stay here by myself."
"No, no," Trey replied, walking him to the door. "I'm sure you'll think of something that'll be appropriate."
"My only other option is to pack up and leave Philadelphia!" Phil exclaimed. "Why don't we split the cash, I think I could give half of what that room costs for another night."
"I need that half for MY room," Trey responded. "When I get that job, then I'll have enough to pay for my room every night... or maybe get an apartment, perhaps."
"But what about me?" Phil asked.
"You're smart, Phil," Trey told him, patting him on the back. "Maybe you can find a place to stay, that is half the cost of this room for the night."
"Thanks for the help," Phil sarcastically replied.
"No problem at all," Trey returned the sarcasm, shutting the door, and watching as Frankie crept out of the bathroom.
"He could have stayed here for the night!" Frankie exclaimed. "Why did you do that?"
"Eavesdropping, are we?" Trey wanted to know. "I can't afford to have people looking over my shoulder, Frankie," Trey explained in a serious tone. "Phil's a smart man, I'm sure he'll find a sufficient place to spend the night."
"Why don't you come to bed?" Georgia distantly heard James' voice in the background, as she stood next to the bedroom window, looking terrified as she peered out.
Georgia turned around to find James with his arms wide open sitting up in the bed. She walked over to the bed, and sat down on the edge, turning around again to face the window. A moment later, she felt James' arm come up from behind her in a massaging manner.
"I know you don't want to talk about why that letter has got you so riled up," James softly told her. "I hope you'll be able to tell me what's going in the morning."
"That's if nothing else happens before then," Georgia pessimistically replied. "That letter was just the latest in a string of bizarre occurrences."
"Why didn't you tell me?" James wanted to know.
"I ignored it, and it could still be a coincidence but the more these things keep happening, the less I'm believing in that theory," Georgia explained.
"Will you tell me everything in the morning?" James asked her in a polite tone.
Georgia turned around and nodded at him in agreement.
Lalie tore the wedding invitation list out of the pad and crumbled it up, throwing it into the waste paper basket. "How could he act so irrational like that?" Lalie asked herself, throwing her arms in the air. "I wish I could call Phil back right now and ask him to come over here, but he might be angry now, too."
Lalie pulled the invitation list out of the waste paper basket, and tried to straighten it out, only to throw it back in again. "Georgia must have her half of the ceremony all planned out," Lalie muttered. "I wish I could have a life like Georgia's... so quiet, and so simple." She smiled at the thought of a simple life, and how the evening could have gone before Kevin showed up and ruined everything.
Just then, the doorbell rang and she went over to answer it, unsure of who was on other end. It was getting rather late for a social visit.
Lalie swung the door open, and froze in her tracks when she saw Phil standing on the other side of the door.
"Have a deck of cards?" Phil asked her with a smile. "I have all night."
Lalie looked shocked, as her eyes surveyed his figure. He was holding a suitcase in his right hand. A loving half smile unknowingly formed on her face, as her eyes met with his before letting him in.
Chapter 9
Non-Nsync Fiction
I'll Never Stop {Fiction}
Email Tracia