For a moment, Carlos went silent again. She could tell she said something
wrong. She was also sure he'd let her know about it. “So that's what all this is
about.
“Hee hee, Mr. Handsome.
“Debbie!” her husband snapped.
“Yeah?” she replied immediately.
“So it's about Emmett again. Do you remember how many times you've tried to
get me to go easy on him?” Every time Emmett made a mistake, she would plead
with Carlos for him, sweeter and softer than ever. She wouldn't even do that for
herself. But she liked the guy. He was well-meaning, no matter what.
» Debbie pleaded with a giggle.
“I just don’t want him in trouble because of me. He helped me out. And you didn’t
thank him but instead plan to exile him to some remote village. That's not fair.”
“He deserves it,” Carlos said firmly.
His stubbornness frustrated Debbie.
“Alright, I won't take up more of your time. Bye, Carlos.” Her tone became icy
cold.
Carlos rubbed his throbbing temples. Before she hung up, he said,
“Okay, okay. He's not in hot water anymore. Happy?
“ Debbie said joyfully, “Thank you, honey. Muah!”
Carlos let out a silent sigh.
“And don't think you can get away with this again. You know this pisses me offi”
he warned.
“No problem. I promise I won't do it again. Honey, you're the best.”
Her voice was sweet as candy.
After hanging up the phone, Debbie turned to look out the car window.
The scenery was so different than in China. All sorts of things from farms to little
communities could be seen on the drive. Half an hour later, the car rolled to a
stop in front of a building in Manchester, where her apartment was
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It was an upscale 17-floor block of
flats located in the heart of the city
center. Close to all sorts of
businesses from chains to mom and
pop shops, she was truly set if she
wanted to step out for a bite to eat or
do some shopping. What was more,
it was a short walk to a bus stop. The
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The entrance was framed by a row of
beautiful colonnades, and she'd have
to head through an ornate set of
double doors of chestnut stain with
elaborate glass work. Just when
Debbie located the entrance,
checking it against the address, and
strode to the doors, a plump
white-haired Chinese woman
happened to be walking that way.
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The older woman quickened her
pace, trying to catch up to Debbie.
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“Excuse me, are you Mrs. Hilton?”
Debbie nodded.
“Yes, and you are?”