Over the years I have been called distant, closed off, reclusive, abrasive and even scary.
Good to know adding stalker to my resume was actually an improvement.
Because there was no fucking denying it. I was obsessed with this woman.
After the party store incident, I followed her home and sat down the street for hours. Yes, I said hours. As in, the entire night. Because I needed to know if she shared her home with another man. Because if she did, I had no problem using my creativity and influence to get rid of him.
When she pulled out of her garage, I trailed and watched as she stopped for coffee, breakfast from a food cart (which smelled really fucking good) and then witnessed Mercy doing surveillance.
Was I expecting her to nearly get run down by a woman holding two cell phones, bags from the Nike store and driving a Cadillac?
Fuck no.
How did I react to her tasing a woman in broad daylight? I got a hard-on and strongly considered jerking off in my truck. No shit, when the boxes went flying I nearly came in my pants.
As keyed up as I was, I was certain she enjoyed it even more than I did. If the smug I-told-you-so smile on her face was anything to go by, it keyed her up too.
After she sat on the bench for a while, she stood, setting out on foot.
If she was working a case, I couldn’t tell since she was popping in and out of businesses too fast to keep up.
When she gained speed, I found myself actually running to keep pace and losing.
Rounding the corner, I come upon her bent over reaching for something inside her car. At the same time a young man was approaching on his tip toes. Just as I was about to rush over and aid her, she stood up and swung, connecting with his shoulder sending him to the concrete. Both hands up he yells, “Mercy!”
Now, had I not heard her clarify this was her name earlier I’d think he was begging.
Clearly, he knew her. Even more clearly, she didn’t like him much.
Whacking him all over, he yells again, “Mercy stop! It’s me! Pita!”
This guy was named after food? This is why I didn’t have kids.
Stepping back and dropping the giant snow scraper she grunts and yells, “Pita! Are you crazy?”
Crossing over, I interrupt Mercy before she takes another swing. “What’s going on?” I ask her.
“Oh hey,” she smiles up at me and I nearly groaned. Fuck, she was too beautiful for words. “I never got your name and calling you the suit seems rude.”
“Dion.”
“Dion,” she positively lights up. “Totally knew I’d see you again!”
She did? Shit, I was losing focus. “Are you killing him, or should I?” I ask impatiently.
“Kill me?” the sandwich kid laughs. “She isn’t going to kill me. She loves me!”
“Okay that’s debatable,” she snorts and it was adorable. Hell, everything about her was.
“Who is this guy?” Pita demands ready to brawl on her behalf. Though, by the looks of things he hasn’t grown into his man body yet or ever been in a fight.
“I believe I just made it clear, I’m Dion. And you are?”
“Her number one fan,” he says waving his skinny arms around. “Duh!”
“I’m confused,” I admit looking to her for help.
“It’s true,” she says sheepishly and fuck, that was adorable too. “He is my number one fan.”
“See!” he exclaims. “Tell him the rest, Mercy.”
“Oh,” she claps tapping her nose. “He’s also a pain in the ass.”
“I’ve noticed,” I grunt wondering how I managed to lose track of this odd conversation. “Hence the nickname, Pita.”
Ah. Lightbulb. “Then why keep him around?”
Getting in my space he says, “Uh, maybe because my vlog is brill? Or that I have amazing sources, and,” he nearly yells in excitement. “She’s training me to be her partner.”
“Am not,” she says pushing her hair from her face.
“You are,” he corrects waving her off. “You just refuse to admit it or actually train me.”
“What the hell is a vlog?” I ask lost once again.
“He doesn’t know who you are,” Pita says genuinely perplexed. “Not only am I her very own personal pain in the ass for free, I should add, my vlog features all things Mercy.”
“A vlog is a video blog. And the kid here likes private investigators,” she offers with a shrug.
“No,” he counters. “You. I like you. You are bad ass and do bad ass things! I highlight these things for your fans and they love it so much you keep going viral. You have almost as many followers as Grumpy cat. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“She doesn’t look sick,” I frown wondering if it’s a hidden disease.
“She’s not sick as in contagious,” he rolls his eyes. “Viral in the vlog world means millions have seen it.”
“Millions?” I blink not sure I had heard him right.
“Don’t look at me,” she says crossing her arms. “That’s his thing, I don’t even watch the videos.”
Leaning in he smiles and repeats, “Millions.” This kid has no regard for personal space.
“So, you spend all your time filming her? For free?”
“It’s not all I do,” he says with irritation. “Aside from working on my own PI skills, I’m also working the management angle.”
“Here we go,” she whistles.
“Mercy needs management?”
“And a man,” he says under his breath. “It’s been a while…”
“Pita,” she warns. “Do not make me get punchy in front of company. You hate crying in public, remember?”
Eyeing me, but speaking to her he says, “I’m not the only one following you these days, Boss. And, it has been a while. I know this because you’re bitchy.” Looking at me he says, “Women get bitchy when they aren’t getting it on the regular.”
“You know what?” she huffs. “I’m not feeling punchy, I’m feeling stabby.”
Wanting to switch topics because I was pleased she was in a drought too, I add, “You were talking about management?”
“Right,” he grins. “She needs management because she refuses to take her career to the next level.”
“What’s the next level?”
“Uh, accepting a movie deal for starters,” he says pointing at her in annoyance.
“Pita,” she sighs. “He doesn’t care about this. Now, I have a thing, so what’s with the sneak attack?”
“I have information,” he whispers.
“Why are you whispering?” she whispers.
“I have no idea,” he smiles at her and it’s evident he loves this woman. Loves her like family. His older sister, perhaps? Before I could ask, she lovingly stabs his chest and orders, “Get in the car.”
“Shotgun!” he calls out and attempts to leap over the hood, only to slide off and hit the pavement.
“Kids,” she shrugs smiling in pride. “Can’t shoot ‘em, am I right?”
I was about to ask her to dinner and for her number when Pita yells from the passenger seat, “Search more than meets the eye private investigations! You’re welcome! And I love the suit!”
Waving me off, Mercy offers a sexy smile before absolutely gunning it.
Instead of following her, I went back to my office and looked her up.
Mohr Than Meets The Eye
Private Investigations
Mercy Mohr, Owner & Lead Investigator
Since 2012
Licensed and Insured
PayPal accepted as is most major credit cards
Her website was as adorable as she was.
www.thetinypi.com
She even had the Better Business Bureau stamp, oh, and about three hundred glowing testimonials.
And that was before I found the link to the vlog.
Pita was right, she did have a following.
Clicking on the Contact Me tab, I filled in the information and hit send.
The sooner I inserted myself into her life the better. Because Mercy Mohr was courting trouble and didn’t even know it.