"Seriously Andre? Need to meet my parents. They were calling to say they are on their way."
"Oh shit! Do you want me to stick around? Like to meet them?" He looked at her anxiously. How clueless can he be? She hated guys with no situational awareness. Andre was the worst kind. How could someone who is ready to graduate from college be so thick-headed?
"Oh no! Not like this." She said squashing the idea before it became a serious possibility. No way would she introduce him to her parents. She can do without the embarrassment. She imagined how her father would rip him to shreds and shivered. As far as the Senator was concerned, she was still a pure little precious daughter. And she had no interest in spoiling that image before she was ready to face the world.
Was he seriously considering being introduced as my guy? She asked herself. Over her dead body. They would probably crucify her, she concluded and left the bed. She was wearing a t-shirt and nothing else. At least it was big enough to cover her. Caroline had maintained a clear no settling down before twenty-five policy. There was too much to see in the world. Too much to be experienced.
That was all the jolt of energy she needed to clear her mind and send Andre packing. She made him a promise to see him later in the evening. Just to get him out the door. No chance in hell she would do it again. She enjoyed the freedom to be alone in her apartment with no one to answer to and, most important, having the whole morning to herself. Her little anonymous existence away from her father’s world. Peace and quiet before the chaos begins.
She turned the speaker on and played music from her laptop, loaded with all the albums of Tracey Chapman. A quirky choice she is proud of. A white girl born in the Pacific Northwest and raised in New York, wildly in love with men, with no ambitions for inciting or participating in a revolution. In spite of all that, she found Chapman's music soothing. Just like taking time off from studying to take part in the twice-a-year production of the Vagina Monologue. It all made sense to her, and she didn't care if it confused others. None of their business.
Andre put on his jeans and walked towards her, looking like he had just come from a photo shoot. She reminded herself that was why she took the time to get to know guys. There is nothing more disappointing than a sexy body carrying an empty mind. As far as Caroline was concerned, all the romantic idealism about a great body misses the point. The body gets a guy in the door. That is it. It is certainly a big plus. Nothing more and nothing less. The fun begins there. No, it doesn’t end with it. She has seen it all. Thanks to her meticulous research.
He had put his arm around her waist, tucking his chin on her left shoulder and rubbing her neck with his rough morning shadow, when she heard a loud bang on her door.
“Ssshhh… Did you hear that?” She said refocusing her attention on the door.
“You trying to be cool? I get it…” He said. How could he not have heard the loud knocking on the door?
“Seriously? Stop it. Someone is trying to come in…”
She walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. A man and a woman, equal height, stood there in a full police uniform.
“Yes,” she said hesitantly. Maybe a security guard, she thought. They check up on her from time to time.
“Open the door, please. This is the police.”
Her heart sank. What had she done? She looked at herself. She was practically naked. Andre was standing on the passageway to her bedroom. Half naked and standing there like a dumb statue. What was going on?
“Just a minute,” she said aloud and ran to her bathroom to put on a robe. Her heart leaped into her throat. She had never interacted with the police outside of the occasional stop while driving, which she always managed to get away with. Acting as a clueless and confused girl, squeezing her boobs together, and banking on the family name. It worked every time. Maybe because she was yet to be stopped by a policewoman.
“Put your shirt back on,” she whispered to Andre before she ran back to the door and opened it slightly.
“Ms. McKenzie?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Is Mr. Andre Palermo inside?”
She hesitated for a moment. If she lied…
“Is Mr. Palermo inside, Miss?” The man asked again.
Caroline now realized they were not the same height. The woman stood still with her right hand on the side. On her pistol strapped to her belt. Caroline’s knees wavered.
“Yes,” she said. She had made the quick mental calculation that she had nothing to be gained by lying. What did she have to protect? She wasn’t a saint. But if this became public? She couldn’t begin to imagine the scandal it would cause.
“Could you open the door please?”
She turned around to see where Andre was. He was standing in the living room with his hands in his pockets. At least he had his shirt on. He looked like a deer caught in the headlight. Scared with his shoulders perched up towards his ears.
The door was opened. She wasn’t sure if she did or they pushed their way inside.
“Are you Mr. Andre Palermo?”
“Yes,” he answered. His eyes blinked fast. Caroline could see he was terrorized. There was no charm or confidence in his voice.
“You are under arrest for assault and attempted homicide. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…”
