Free A Beautiful Rock by Lilliana Anderson Page B

actually cared what somebody thought about me. I actually care about how this woman feels. Jesus , I promised her friendship. I'm not sure how I'm going to make that work…
    ***

Lisa
    “ Here you go,” Sandra says, as she climbs out of her car and holds my spare keys in front of her face, jingling them like they're a musical instrument. Her head turns to Marcus's car parked at the curb outside my house and her eyes widen “Wow. Who owns the Porsche?"
    I reach out and take the keys from her fingers. "I'll tell you over a coffee inside.”
    Following behind me, she keeps looking over her shoulder at the car. “It’s a bloody nice car. You wouldn’t catch me leaving it parked on the street like that. I’d be petrified that someone would steal it.”
    I don’t comment. I just move inside and make small talk about how her weekend is progressing so far, as I switch on the coffee machine to warm up and open the pantry to find the coffee beans.
    “It’s been ok. I went out with that guy I met in the lift last week. He was nice enough…”
    “You met a guy in an elevator? You didn’t tell me about that?”
    “Seriously? I can’t believe I didn’t tell you about it. It was hilarious, so I had really high hopes about this guy being a lot of fun. Basically, I was running late for work, so I was the only one in the elevator. Just as the doors are about to shut, this guy hits the button and makes them open again. When he gets in, I’m thinking, ‘yeah, this guy’s pretty cute. A little bit of designer stubble, decent looking body, nice eyes’ and it turns out I was openly ogling… Anyway, he notices me looking and looks at me, then just says ‘hi’ so I said, ‘Oh my god. Can you see me?’ – you know like I’m a ghost or something… I expected him to just look at me like I’m crazy and ignore me but he didn’t.”
    “What did he do?” I ask, becoming engrossed in her story.
    “He pulled my hair!” she laughs. “He reached out and tugged at a piece of my hair and said ‘yep’. And he timed it perfectly too, because next thing the lift pings and he gets off without saying anything else.”
    “Ok. So how did you end up going out with him then?”
    “Oh, I saw him leaving the building at lunch time and chased him down. We just went for drinks after work on Friday. His name is Brad. How funny is that? Who is called ‘Brad’ these days?”
    “Him I guess?”
    “Yeah him. Anyway, it was all right. There’s a tiny bit of a spark but I don’t know… I don’t feel that… thing… you know? That pain you get in your guts when you’re around someone?”
    I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. I can see how that’s important.”
    As I carry the coffees, I incline my head toward the kitchen table to get her to follow me instead of staying sitting on one of the stools at my bench top.
    She settles in the chair across from me and takes a sip of her coffee. “So… that’s my weekend so far. What’s been happening with you? Are you going to tell me who owns that Porsche now?”
    “Yeah, of course I am. It um… belongs to…” I start, only to get interrupted by the ding-dong of my doorbell. The noise sets Perry barking at the backdoor. “Um… one minute.”
    I hear Sandra get up and go to the back of the house to let Perry inside as I answer the front door. “Yes?” I ask as I open the door to an older woman, a good foot shorter than I am, stylishly dressed and made up, her dyed blonde hair coiffed back and held neatly by a metallic clip.
    “Lisa Russell?” she asks, and I have this feeling that she’s about to hand me an envelop e and say ‘ you’ve just been served ’ so I hesitate with my answer. “I’m Mr Bailey’s assistant. I’m here to return your car and pick up his.” She holds out the keys to my car for me.
    “Oh, thank you. I don’t have his keys though ,” I tell her, taking my car keys from her and looking over her shoulder to see my car parked behind