Tuesday, March 25, 2014

George - Chapter Four: A Challenging Puzzle - Part Two


Warning again for language and for the song (language and adult situations).



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“So do you not dance?” She asked


“No, I do, but I would pick a better song than this.”


“Not a Robin Thicke fan?”


“Not a fan of this particular song.”


She nodded. “So instead of dancing you’re. . .what? Analyzing people? Scoping out the next recipient of your heroic deeds? Stalking your prey?”


I chuckled. “Umm.  . .yes, no, and no. I don’t stalk people.”


“Really? Because the way you’re watching people I was starting to wonder if you were scoping out people to go after.” I was surprised by what she had said. Had she been watching me this whole time and I hadn’t noticed? “I mean, the way you watch people, it’s like you’re a tiger, looking for its next meal, but instead of food, you’re looking for people to analyze.”


“A tiger? Interesting choice of animal.”


She smiled at me. “Don’t do it.”


“Do what?”


“Analyze me. I’ve told you before that it’s freaky and I’ll have to walk away if you keep doing it.” Her eyes were conveying an amused, challenging and warning look simultaneously. I was again amazed at how expressive her eyes were. I really needed to put an end to this. She was going to start thinking I was interested in her if I let this conversation keep going.


“Too late; I can tell you’re still doing it. It was nice talking to you.” She smiled at me and walked away.


I was completely shocked. She had actually walked away from me. I was still trying to process what had happened when Charlotte came over.




“Really?! Don’t you even know how to pick a girl up?” She complained.


“Yes, I do but. . .what the hell just happened?”


“What just happened was she walked away from you and you let her.” Charlotte lowered her eyes at me. I snapped out of my shock.


“Wait a minute! What is she doing here anyway?” Charlotte started to walk away. “Oh no! Turn back around.” Charlotte turned back to face me but didn’t look me in the eye. “You invited her didn’t you?”


“Well, in the last two months I’ve gotten to know her better and I thought she could use a good time. Life hasn’t been all rosy for her since she and Tony broke up. Plus, I thought it might be a good chance for the two of you to get to know each other better. . .”


I shook my head. “You just won’t give up, will you?” She smiled at me. “What do you mean? What’s happened since she and Tony broke up?”


“Well, I don’t want to say too much because I know Steph is a pretty private person, but he’s been bothering her, a lot. He sometimes stands outside the bar waiting for us to get off of work. He never says anything to her or any of us but he just stands there, watching her. He’s even come to the bar a couple of times. He never sits in her section, and I’ve luckily never had to serve him, but he watches her the whole time. It’s like he’s trying to let her know that he’s watching her; inside and outside the bar. She’s even mentioned that she thought she saw his car sitting in the parking lot of our apartment building one night; but I didn’t tell you that last part. Don’t mention to her that I told you that, if you ever decide to talk to her.” She smiled at me again.


I didn’t smile back though. I really didn’t like the thought of this guy being anywhere near Charlotte. I was definitely going to have to talk to Trevor and maybe even Ethan about watching out for her. I looked around the room and noticed Stephanie standing on the other side of the room. A guy was talking to her so she didn’t notice me looking at her. I sighed. Why had I done this? I figured I would help the girl in the alley and that would be the end of it. We would each go on with our lives, never seeing each other again. Instead, we kept running into each other which was making me feel the need make sure she was okay. That was the last thing I wanted to do since I was sure she was going to think I was interested in her.




I heard Charlotte giggle. I looked at her and she was again smiling at me. “You know you aren’t going to be able to stop yourself. You’ve never been able to turn your back on people that you know you can help. And something tells me that you want to help her.” She said with a devious smile.


“I hate it when you’re right.” I admitted to her. “You need to stay away from that Tony guy.” I warned her.


“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that. I’ve known him longer than you and I had been telling her for months that he was bad news. I can’t tell you how many times she came to work with bruises on her arms, hands, face. He’s a real asshole.”


“That was my exact thought about him when I met him.” I was disgusted just thinking about how he had been hitting Stephanie in that alleyway.


“So, are you going to go over and talk to her?”

“She seems. . .occupied.” I said as I looked over at her talking to the same guy.


“She’s totally bored with that guy. I would think that being a psychologist you would know that by looking at them interacting.”

I looked back over at them and noticed how the guy was very energetically talking about something while it was obvious that Stephanie was trying to be polite. “You should go save her.” Charlotte said and giggled.

I rolled my eyes at her but found myself walking over to Stephanie and the guy that was talking to her. As I got closer she looked at me and smirked. The guy noticed and turned around. “Oh gosh! Are you two here together?”



“Oh no, but we were having a discussion earlier that got interrupted.” Stephanie said and raised an eyebrow at me.


“Oh. . .well, I need a drink anyway. It was nice talking to you.” He said to Stephanie and then walked over to the bar.


We both watched him walk away. I was about to say something to her when she flung around. “So. . . once again you’re saving me from a guy.  Thank you. I don’t know how much more of that conversation I could have taken.”


“What exactly was he talking about?”


“He was telling me how nice his mom’s house was. . .and how he lived there.”


I couldn’t help but laugh. “So you don’t think guys who are. . .” I looked back over at the guy. “probably close to thirty and living at home are interesting?”


She laughed. “Oh, I thought he was interesting all right. So, did you come over here to save me, analyze me, or apologize for analyzing me before?”


“Umm. . .yes, maybe, and why would I apologize?”


She laughed and shook her head. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You have the gall to analyze and judge people and don’t care if you’re wrong. What do you do if you’re wrong?”


“I’m very rarely wrong.” I admitted.


“Really? Okay. I’ll pick someone I know and you analyze them and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”


“You really want to play this game? Because I’ll probably win.”


“Opinionated, judgmental and cocky; interesting combination you have going for you. Okay. . .” She looked around the room and stopped when she looked over at the bar. “How about Mr. Ethan Saxton.”


I looked over at Ethan as he mixed drinks. I had watched him several times including when we had been in the bar the night Stephanie had almost pepper sprayed me. It was obvious that he had been bartending for a while. He had a finesse about the way he mixed the drinks and served them.


“Oh come on now! Don’t hold it in. Share what you’re thinking.” She prodded me.


“Fine. It’s obvious that he’s been bartending a while. That’s evident by the way that he mixes and serves drinks.” 


“Seriously? Anyone could pick that up. Even guy who lives with his mom would know that.” She interrupted me.


“Do you want me to continue?” She smiled and motioned with her hand for me to continue.


“He has a hairstyle that looks good on him but requires very little work so he cares about how he looks but doesn’t want to spend a ton of time in the mirror. He’s decently built so he probably watches what he eats and works out. I’d say judging by his chest and arm muscles that he lifts weights. Several woman here think he’s attractive but he only has eyes for one and she doesn’t want to acknowledge him. That one I might have some inside info on.” She giggled. “He probably lives in the same area of town that you and Charlotte live in. He doesn’t seem to have any hangups and seems pretty confident about himself so I’m going to guess that he had a decent childhood and his parents are or were decent people. Going back to who he’s interested in, he seems to be a considerate guy since he isn’t pushing the issue which I would guess he’s also a patient guy. Would you like me to continue?”


“No, that’s good.”


“So?”


“Well, I’m not so sure about his childhood and parents, but the rest of it is pretty much right on.” I smiled triumphantly. “That’s really what you do? You look at things that are pretty obvious about people and make judgments about them?” 


“You think it’s that easy?”


“You really think you read every single person correctly?” I nodded  “Fine, do me.”


“What?!” I didn’t know what she meant for a split second.




“Read me, or analyze me; whatever it is you do.”


I felt relief wash over me but then started to feel uncertainty again. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”


“Why not? You’ve already done it, haven’t you?”


“Really Stephanie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”


“I hate being called Stephanie. Call me Steph. And what’s wrong? Are you afraid you’re wrong?”


I knew that what I was about to do was probably not the wisest thing, but for some reason I gave in. I looked at her and was again struck by the intensity of her eyes. She never once looked away as I stood there looking at her. I smirked and then started. “I’ll start with the most obvious. Every time I’ve seen you, you’re hair has been nicely styled and your makeup has been, well for lack of a better word, perfect; so I’d say you care about your appearance and spend some time on it. But not a huge amount of time.”


“What makes you think I don’t spend a lot of time on my appearance?”


“Well, your makeup isn’t piled on. It’s just enough to enhance your appearance which usually requires less time than applying heavier makeup.”


“Hmm. . .okay. . .continue.”


I had to stop myself from looking down at her body. “You’re in good shape so you’re not a lazy person. I’d dare say that you even exercise and probably three or four times a week.”


She smiled and started laughing. “How would you know that? You didn’t even look down at my body.” She smirked.


“Would it make you feel better if I did?” It came out before I had a chance to think about what was coming out of my mouth.


She chuckled and shrugged. “Up to you. You’re the one analyzing me.”


I took a step back and looked her over. I couldn’t believe I was doing it but I had this uncontrollable urge to prove to her that I could indeed correctly analyze and judge people from just observing them. I looked at her arms and noticed that they were pretty toned. From what I remembered of how she looked in her work uniform and how she looked in the dress she was wearing, I could tell she had a well-defined middle section. I then made my way down to her legs which I had, from the moment I had seen her in the lamp light the night we had met, thought was one of the best areas of her body. I couldn’t deny it, she had amazing legs. I once again started questioning why I was doing this. 


I looked back up at her face and she looked at me “Well?” She asked almost defiantly. 


“I stand by my original analysis that you work out and more than once a week. Judging by the muscle definition in your arms and legs I’d say you probably do some weight lifting and some type of aerobic workout.”


“Interesting; please, continue.”


“Would you like me to move onto your personality?”


“Please do.”


“Are you sure?” I was pretty sure I was right about why she acted the way she did but I wasn’t so sure she would want to hear it.



“Can’t be any worse than some things I’ve heard.” She admitted.


“Okay, but I’ll stop anytime you want me to.” She nodded. “The way you just responded to my question tells me that you’ve heard some interesting things.”


“Really? Again, guy who lives with his mom would probably pick that up.”


“You use sarcasm as a defense mechanism. By being sarcastic, you keep people at a distance. It helps you feel in control of relationships and the more uncomfortable you feel in a relationship, the more sarcastic you are, which makes me wonder how uncomfortable you are with me since you haven’t stopped being sarcastic.” She continued to look at me but didn’t respond. “From a comment you made the night we first met, about how that was the first time someone had stopped a person from hitting you, I’m guessing that you’ve been in other relationships where guys haven’t been kind to you.” I stopped because the next thought that popped into my head was an unpleasant one. Even more so than thinking that other guys had hit her.


“Oh come on! You were on a roll.” She said but there was no smile on her face anymore.


“No, I’m going to stop.”


“Shitfire! Just spit it out.”


I took a deep breath in. There was a little voice in my head warning me not to continue but I didn’t listen. “Most people that are in relationships where they allow people to hurt them have been hurt in their childhood. I don’t want to speculate about exactly what but I’d guess you’re dad and you don’t have a great relationship. And I’d say that’s also one reason you’re not very trusting of people, you know, threatening people with pepper spray?” She smiled slightly at that comment. That was all I was going to say. I had already said too much.


“Is that it? You’re not going to continue?”



“No. I’ve already said too much and I really shouldn’t have done it.”


“Would you like to know how accurate you were?”


I all of a sudden got nervous. I didn’t think I was wrong but thinking back on her responses, or lack of them, I started to wonder if I had been wrong.


“So what was the first thing? Oh, right! My hair and makeup.” She had a sarcastic tone and I could feel myself slightly cringe. “So I actually do spend quite a bit of time on my hair and makeup. But what I want to know is what is your definition of a huge amount of time.”


“I’d say anything over an hour.”


“Most days I spend about an hour and fifteen minutes getting ready. Unless I’m not working, then I spend about 45 minutes getting ready, but then again, if I’m just going to exercise, then I’ll take a quick shower, pull my hair back and exercise. So you see, you weren’t exactly right there.”


“Which leads to exercising; I, in fact, do not lift weights. I may have on a rare occasion but for the most part, I run, a lot. I run almost every day; so not just three or four times a week, more like six or seven.”


“Then there was my sarcastic personality, which I am indeed expressing right this very moment, in case you didn’t notice. I have always been sarcastic. Some may think it’s a defense mechanism, and it very well might be. But I find that life is so much more interesting when it’s looked at with sarcasm.”


“As for past relationships. I’ll have to give it to you that you are indeed right about that. I have had relationships in the past that have been, as you put it, with guys who have not been kind to me. What can I say? I’m a sucker for bad boys.”


“My dad. . .” She clenched her jaw and got a distant look in her eyes. “He was most definitely a piece of work.”


I closed my eyes and wished I could take back the last fifteen minutes. This was the last thing I had wanted to do when I walked over to her.



“What’s wrong?” She asked me. I opened my eyes and looked at her.


“I shouldn’t have done that.”


“Why not? You do it with everyone else, so why not me?”

 

“I’ve never told anyone what my analysis was of them.”


“Is there really much of a difference between you keeping it to yourself or telling the person?”


“Well, sure. I mean we all observe people and make assumptions about them based on our observations. We keep it to ourselves and they probably never know what we initially thought of them.”


“Correction. Most people make observations about people. You, you analyze them, dissect their thoughts, movements, actions, and don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re doing it.”


“It’s kind of my job.”


“Oh right! Charlotte told me you’re a psychologist. Don’t you ever get tired of analyzing people?”


I had never thought about it. “I guess not since I do it a lot.”


“So what about the times that you’re wrong? And how can you be absolutely sure that you’re correct? I mean, I just told you whether or not you were correct. How do you know you’re right about all the people you analyze but don’t ever talk to?”


Once again, she was asking me a question that I had never really thought about. I always just assumed I was right. “I guess I don’t really know for sure.”


She took a step towards me. “You judge people, a lot of times, in my opinion unfairly. You watch them for several minutes and then make up your mind about them. I bet you made up your mind about me within the first five minutes we had met. You probably figured that I worked somewhere other than a bar and you may have even wondered if Tony was my pimp. You probably didn’t even think that I socialized in the same circles that your sister did, let alone your brother. Am I right?”


“I might have thought one of those things were true.” I really didn’t want to admit that I thought all of it was true when I first met her. “What’s your point?”


She took another step closer. At this point we were inches away from each other. She looked into my eyes, once again smirked and whispered. “My point is that perhaps you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” She backed away slightly. “It was nice talking to you, Tiger.” She turned and once again walked away.


I stood there for a minute thinking about what she had just said to me. I was completely confused. She had willingly allowed me to analyze her when she had told me not to do it less than an hour before. Why had she done that? Just to show me that I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover? Then there was her flirting. Hell, I had even flirted back several times which I couldn’t believe I had done. But even her flirting was confusing. She was just one confusing mess and the more I learned about her, the more I wanted to learn so I could solve the confusing puzzle that was her.


“I don’t know what she said to you but you look pretty confused.” 


“I am. She’s. . .complicated. Just when I think I’ve got her figured out, she does something that is unexpected. I came over here to talk to her about Tony and instead she had me analyze her when just less than an hour before she had requested that I not analyze her.”


Charlotte laughed. “If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about Steph is that she has many layers. I’m constantly learning new things about her and I’ve known her eight months, live in the same building as her, hang out with her multiple times a week, and work with her most days that I work. So if your goal is to try to figure her out. . .good luck.”


As I looked over to where Steph was standing, I determined that one way or another, I was going to solve the puzzle that was Stephanie Hathaway.