"Miss, we're in the Fortieth street, mind directing me to your building?"

"What? Oh.." That was quick. Then again I only live a few streets away from work, something which I continuously count my blessings for. My patience for traffic is near to zilch, so sometimes when the streets are busier than a sale at Macy's, I tend to speed walk to work, which is located five streets away in Middle Manhattan.

Looking around, I see that Dill's Pub is nearby, which is about a few blocks from my building, "Sorry, I wasn't looking. It's three blocks further down, you can drop me off at the corner then. Thank you." I say, while looking at the cabbie in the rear view mirror.

"No big deal, Miss. You're welcome."

Taking a glance at the meter running, I take out the ratty old brown leather wallet from my bag, in order to prepare an approximate fare amount including a tip. Major General Henderson taught me to "always be prepared" for any emergency exit from a vehicle, that includes no dilly-dallying in a parked cab. Not that this is an emergency, but old habits die hard. Putting the letter in my cross bag, I sigh. I'll just have to re-read it again at home, I'm not so sure this is the type of letter to publish in a public magazine.

"Your stop, Miss. Fare is twelve sixty-five."

"Thank you, please keep the change," giving him the fifteen dollars I already prepared, and then leaving the cab without waiting for a reply.

Firmly placing my bag across my shoulder, I speed walk towards my building, while carefully assessing the area for any shady activity. My neighbourhood is decent, but New York is always full of surprises.

Entering the building lobby, I spot Tommy, the doorman, at the front desk. He is just about the one person in my life that always makes my day and night more pleasant. I could be as sour as a stripper on her period, but Tommy always manages to put a smile on my face. He's just one of those carefree and high-spirited people, everyone needs a Tommy in their life.

I observe him before he notices me. He's looking down at his mobile, furiously moving his slender fingers across the screen, with an agitated look on his handsome face. His short dark hair is tangled in a mess, each hair moving in every direction. His navy blazer wrinkled, as though a dog has been chewing on it, his tie loosened up and his not-so-white chemise has a mustard drop beneath his third button. The devil got some hot dogs without me again.

"You know, Tommy, just because we all love you here, doesn't mean that you can sit down looking like a beautiful mess while playing a mobile game."

Sprinting out of his seat and eliciting a little yelp, he looks at me and sighs from relief. Placing his hand on his chest, he breathes in and out deeply.

The drama queen.

"Cassie you freaked me out, baby. You can't do that to a man my age, you'll give me a heart attack. I won't be able to see your dazzlin' face again, bella", he says with an Italian accent.

Lord, have mercy. He's going for an Italian persona tonight.

Tommy has a hobby. Of course, we all have hobbies, while mine is reading and painting, Julie's hobby is shopping and spa therapy retreats, and my dad prefers to go to shooting ranges. Tommy, however, has a hobby for imitating personas. Every few days he pulls off a celebrity impersonation. What makes it so special is that he has an impressive talent. By that, I mean his voice. He can change the depth and pitch of his voice to imitate accents of multiple nationalities. And in both genders.

Quite a tongue. I often wonder what else it does.

Clearing my throat, and thoughts, I keep my cool and give him a small smirk. "A man your age? Tommy, you're twenty-nine. You're older than me by three years. And didn't you hear what I told you?"

Smirking, he places one hand on his hip and shifts to one leg, while raising the other hand to rub his perfect square jaw seductively, "Mia amore, all I heard was that you love me -" he slowly moves his forest green eyes down my body, and drags his predatory gaze up again while licking his lower lip, "And that I am a beautiful mess." He winks.
Mentally, my panties just dropped.

"And just who are you supposed to be tonight?"

"Cassie, baby, for you? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Now now, Tommy boy, you know that sweet talking isn't going to work with me. Maybe if you tell me who you are, I'll forget your pathetic little attempt there and keep you in the cool book," I suggest while winking.

He barks out a loud laugh, fucking music to my ears, "I'll never stop trying, baby girl. One day you'll be begging me for some Tommy time. In the meantime, allow me to introduce you to the Italian Stallion."

He moves around the front desk and stands in front of me, puffing out his delectable pectorals and squaring off his broad shoulders. He then starts posing the way Johnny Bravo does in front of a "sexy momma", then jumps around lightly throwing a few fake punches into the air.

I burst out laughing like an ugly coyote. It's seriously shameful how I am now both laughing and snorting at the same time. But I can't stop. Of course, he then joins me, laughing his beautiful ass off.

After we both calm down, I walk towards him, assumingly in a seductive catwalk. He eyes my movements, licking his lips in an appreciative manner. Reaching him, I step on my tiptoes to up to meet his six feet of sexiness, and brush my lips over his jaw and give him a small kiss on his cheek.

Smirking, I move away to see his facial expressions change from being dazed, to being shocked, followed by a fake hurt and ending with a playful smile.

"I'll get you for that one, mia amore. You watch your step now."

Snickering, "Give it your best, Italian Stallion. I wouldn't expect any less," I turn around and head towards the lifts. My heart is racing, the things that an Italian accent can do to a woman should make it illegal in at least twenty states. I get into the elevator and let it take me up to the eighth floor. The view is heavenly, which is one of the reasons why I chose this apartment.

After spending three hours doing some house chores, having dinner and taking a shower, I make myself a cup of coffee and sit down on the couch in my living room. I take out the letter and notepad from the cross bag I threw earlier on the couch, and start reading the letter again.

8th of Feb 2018
Dear Madame Cleo,
Could you please reply to this urgently? I'm on the last thread of patience and understanding. You're my only hope. My boyfriend has been returning home for the past few months with spots of blood on his clothes, when I asked him where it came from, he told me that he recently joined an MMA training centre and it's normal to bleed from practice fights. I never thought anything of it till yesterday, where I overheard a phone call in which he threatened someone that he would get rid of him if he didn't pay up his share soon. When I confronted him, he laughed it off saying that it's normal between guys to pass off empty threats, and not to worry my pretty face about it. He said the man on the phone is a business partner who is slacking off on his deposits to their joint business. I don't believe him one bit, I know what I heard and the way he said it was sociopathic and malicious. Do I leave him?
- Scared shitless.

Well, shit.

There isn't enough information here to answer her question. She didn't even mention if she loves him or not, nor how long she's been with him for. This isn't the type of pleas for advice I usually get, nor do I think it's the type that Julie would even want published in the column. But the woman's letter reeks of fear and desperation, I don't think I have it in me to not - at least - try and offer her any words of advice. If she even needs it anymore.

I'm going to need another cup of coffee after this letter. Or two.

Here goes nothing.

Dear Scared Shitless,
Unfortunately, I have no "yes or no" answer to your question. You need to assess the situation yourself. Having not mentioned how long you two have been together, you need to ask yourself two questions: Is he capable of something as serious as getting rid of someone? Would he ever harm me physically in any way? Because if it's a yes to both questions, then you should pack your bags and leave him. If it's only a yes to the first question, then ask yourself if you love him enough to accept it. Try to pay attention to what he does and where he goes. Ask him if you can go to an MMA training session of his. Maybe his story does check out. If all fails, well then, hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more ;)

Best of luck,
Madame Cleo.

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A/N:

What do you think of Tommy?
Do you have a Tommy in your life? Personally, I have a semi-Tommy in my life. So this one goes out to him.

Once again, I would love to hear your opinions about the story so far.

Don't forget to hit the star if you liked it 😘

Stay awesome,
Tamieh 💜