Sophia
"What doyou mean I can't file another restraining order?" It's taking everything in my power not to jump out of this chair and pound my fist on the desk. This is not the outcome I was hoping for when I walked into the police department this morning.
The officer behind the desk, Officer Daniels, shuffles papers, avoiding eye contact with me. "Well, your previous order expired three months ago. That means we will have to set another hearing date for this one." My mouth opens, ready to give my argument, but he holds his hand up to stop me. "Let me continue. I'm not saying that it won't be granted to you. It very likely could." This time he looks me square in the eyes. "What I'm saying is, you don't have any proof that he is following you again. And, the fact that you haven't had any issues with him for almost a year doesn't show an immediate threat."
"But…" This whole thing is absolutely ridiculous, and I shouldn't have to go through this again. "There is a chance that I can get the order back in place?"
He nods and opens a file folder, ready to place all of my case files back inside. Part of me wants to let go of my fear that Dawson is following me again. The other part, however, wants to fight it tooth and nail because I will not let him have any sort of control over me again.
"I'd like to set a hearing date then," I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to give me the forms to fill out.
"Okay," he sighs, and hands the papers over. "I'll get this put into the system today, and let you know when your hearing is."
Pen in hand I begin filling everything out. It's going to make me even later for work, but my safety is what's most important to me. And, if I can get this in place, my brother won't have to stay with me anymore. Not that he's a nuisance or anything. And we always gotten along except for a few squabbles here and there. It's just that after texting with Adrian last night, it would be nice not having my kid brother around. You know, just in case.
After all is said and done, Officer Daniels walks me to the front lobby. Never would I have thought I would be back in a police station again. But here I am, going through the same motions I had to before. I could be freaking out over nothing; however, I'd rather be safe than sorry. And, on the off chance that Adrian is interested in me, I don't want Dawson hanging over us like a black cloud. Crazy ex-boyfriends are not good for any sort of relationship.
The distance to the parking lot is short, and I slide into the passenger seat of my car. “So, how did it go, Sis?” Yep, my brother has deemed himself my own personal bodyguard. If I go somewhere, he goes. It’s the only way he thinks he can make sure I’m safe.
“Not great,” I shrug. “Since he hasn’t shown any harmful actions, and I don’t know for a fact that he was following me last night, a judge most likely won’t approve it. But there’s a chance one might. I went ahead and filled out all the crap, and now I wait to see about a hearing date.”
“Damn,” he shakes his head. “That sucks.” Putting the car in reverse he looks both ways. “Where to now?”
“Work.” He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Can we at least eat first? I’m starving.”
“You can do whatever you want after you drop me off?” Seriously, it’s not like he has to wait around at the shop for me to get off work. If anything, he should offer to bring me something. Does that cross his mind? Of course, not. “The burger place Mom and Dad used to take us is literally right across the street. I’m sure Ginger would be happy to see you.”
He snorts as he pulls onto the road. “I’m sure she just wants to hit on me.”
My hand flies across the space between us, smacking him in the chest. “Don’t be so full of yourself. She only likes to give you a hard time. She knows it embarrasses you.”
“Well,” he huffs. “I wish she wouldn’t. It’s weird.”
“You won’t be saying that when an older lady catches your eye,” I mutter.
“What was that?” He turns the radio down for me to repeat myself.
Giggling, I shake my head. “Nothing. Just drop me off and go feed yourself.”
* * *
The tattoo shop is full of people when I walk through the front door. I didn't think today's schedule was quite this busy when I checked yesterday. I guess I was wrong, and I feel horrible for having to come in late. Corey is standing in my usual spot behind the front desk. He looks frazzled, and like he doesn't know what he's doing. Which is insane because he ran the shop just fine before he hired me.
He looks up to see who just walked through the door, and his shoulders sag in relief when he realizes that it's me. "How are you holding up without me, Boss Man?"
"Thank God you're back." He's already taking steps away from the desk as I make my way toward him. "It's been a madhouse. People coming in without appointments and I have no idea what your system is. I'm not even supposed to be here today." He throws his arms in the air.
This man is acting as if he's incapable of taking care of scheduling a few appointments, and I can't help but laugh at the whole situation. "It's only been a few hours. How did you manage anything before me?"
"For starters, all the artists handled their own appointments." He holds up the pointer finger on his right hand, counting off how things were done. "Secondly, we were hell of a lot less busy than we have been for the past year. And thirdly," he takes a deep breath. "You have spoiled all of us with your organizational skills."
I throw my head back in laughter this time. "It's nice to know you can no longer run the shop without me. Does this mean I get a raise?" This small interaction, no matter how trivial it is brightens my mood after being at the police station this morning.
"You're here now, and that means I can take the wife to the movies." He points at the stack of papers on the desk. "Have fun sorting the mess I left you. I didn't know what you do with everything. We’ll talk about a raise in a couple of days. You definitely deserve one."
Waving him off I begin going through the papers. "Go have fun with your wife, I can manage from here."
He doesn’t make me say it twice. He’s out the back door before anyone else realizes he’s gone. We don’t want any disgruntled clients and I need to get some sort of order happening before that happens. Clapping my hands a few times to get everyone’s attention, I stand on my tiptoes, and raise my voice, “If you already have an appointment, please have a seat on the right. I’ll come by in a few minutes to get your paperwork all sorted out.” The crowd parts like the Red Sea as they do as instructed. “The rest of you, if you could please form a line, we’ll get your appointments scheduled.”