Thread: Going Down? (Traveler & Charlotte)

How did she do that? She had the envelope in perfectly painted mouth, her magazine-white teeth clamping the edge, and when she removed the paper he could swear that there was not a smudge of lipstick on it. There was something about a woman who knew exactly where she was in the universe the kind of girl who never left smudges of foundation on her phone or lipstick on his collar. It was the sign of a lady , and that was rare. He'd had his fair share of lipstick smudges on his clothing and other portions of his body to know. Jacob paused as she stood in the hall, partially blocking his path and partially the reason he stopped. Yes, and no. He answered. His lips curved up slightly in amusement at her questions. Would you believe me had my answers been reversed? She looked cozy. Her jeans hugged her thighs and hips just so, and the jacket was adorable and innocent. A throwback look that perfectly matched her personal style. That jacket's cute on you. He gave her a little wink as he edged pass, wondering if she was a vegan averse to leather, or if it was simply a jacket that was within her means. Would she be appalled at all the hides in his closet? That thought made him raise a brow as he came near her. For a moment he stood, looking down into her face, before he decided to leave her with a little tease and get on his way, lest his phone buzz and ruin the moment. Are you going for a swim? He tilted his head slightly and then looked at her totes, surmising that she must have been some kind of an artist. Are you warm? He reached out and tugged the zipper at her throat down a few inches. Why the hell not? She wasn't going to go ga-ga over him he could comfortably tease her like he might a little sister. There, that should help cool you down. The lobby door opened and a few other tenants came in, letting the breeze and a few errant leaves enter. Jacob nodded once at his neighbor, feeling the tightness from his conversation with Vanessa ease, and then stepped out into the open. The day had gotten brighter with the reminder that not every woman in the world had a voice that was a mix of Fran Dresher and Sofa Vergara. Some women had voices that were pleasant to the ear. - - - - - Fuck, Nessa! That damned cat of yours is purposely shitting with me. He was about to grab the feline and hurl it out of the apartment, but Vanessa swooped in and plucked the cat from the soiled bed and clutched it to her chest. Don't you dare hurt my baby! It's a fucking animal and it pissed on my Sterns and Foster! What in the world is a Sterns and- It's the bed! He pointed at the wet spot on his silk sheets. It's the bed that I sleep on, that your fucking cat decided was a good substitute for litter box! A little vinegar will get that out, she protested. Besides, it's nothing. Just... a little wet. Really... He put his hands on his hips and glared at her. Just a 'little' wet. Baby... Vanessa pouted and put the cat down. It promptly began to rub on her legs. I'll make it up to you. It's just that this stupid little bitch I work with, she's so incompetent. I would have been home but I had to redo my make up, and that made the shoot late, and you know, baby... the weather has to go on! People need to know if it's going to rain or not. Jacob ran a hand though his hair, exasperated at the entire situation. He paced along the foot of the bed as he thought about the frustrations and the disgust he felt over what had just happened. I'm going out. Out? Where are you going? Her fake lashes seemed to widen at her question. Out. I'm going out. He waved a hand at the bed and the cat. You take care of this. I need some air. But... Jacob shook his head. He picked up his car keys and wallet as he left the room, slamming the door to his apartment behind him. Thankfully he still had on the double breasted, hooded trench coat he had worn home. It was cold that day and promised to be colder as the evening progressed. He'd bypassed the mailbox on is way in, and idly thought about checking the mail before he went down to the garage. He supposed he had better he'd let Vanessa distract him enough from the routine of his life. She was causing him to make changes that he didn't want to make yet. He wasn't married, for fuck's sake. Why did he feel like he was? Maybe she was right maybe it was the people she worked with who were making things awkward, but his perfect utopia didn't involve cat piss on the bed, and a little vinegar wasn't going to fix it. He stepped into the elevator and jabbed the '1' button. He needed a break from the craziness of his girlfriend, but there wasn't anyone at his office he could really call a 'friend'. He didn't dare go out with a woman that would be beyond crazy. It looked like he was on his own for the evening. The elevator light went from his floor to the third.