Jun 19, 2020 19:17:40 GMT
Post by stormaf on Jun 19, 2020 19:17:40 GMT
Hunter and Dakhan
One morning one of Mrs. Wittershall's caretakers came to her door with a young man in tow. Hunter opened the door with her typical grin.
"Well hello," Hunter smiled, "C'mon in!"
The caretaker, a woman in her forties, and the young man had followed her up the staircase to Hunter's apartment over the book store she ran. Once inside, Hunter scrounged about for three chairs while McRorie, her Irish wolfhound, greeted with visitors with a thorough sniffing. His waving tail stopped dead still as his sensitive nose went over the young man's clothing. He gave a low growl.
"Never mind him," Hunter piped up, "Sometimes he's a little grouchy." She took a fistful of the cu's bearded face and admonished the dog, "Stop that! Mrs. Wittershall sent them."
McRorie humphed in the way only a wolfhound could manage and returned to his rather elegant new dog bed. He flopped down with a sigh and listened to the conversation intently.
"Let me introduce to one of Mrs. Wittersham's friends," the caretaker gestured to the young man beside her, "This is Dakhan Bardias."
The young man inclined his head in greeting.
I'm pleased to meet you," he said.
Hunter detected a bit of a strange accent to his tone, but she thought nothing of it. After all, New York was quite the melting pot of cultures.
"Nice to meet you too," she replied, "I'm Hunter Dumont. I own the bookstore downstairs."
"Mrs. Wittersham would like to ask a favor of you, my dear," the caretaker said, "Mr. Bardias is very new to the city and needs a job and a place to stay until he gets settled. Since you have such a large apartment, she was wondering if you could put him up for a while?"
Hunter had spent all of her teen years looking after a house and a teenage brother. This will be a piece of cake, she thought. Having some help in the store would be nice too. Not to mention that the young fellow was hot, hot, hot! Hunter stamped decisively on her rising libido. What? This kid was probably at least five years her junior. Man, she was getting desperate for a man in her life when she started considering robbing the cradle.
"Why sure," she agreed, "I've got and extra bedroom and quite a bit of floorspace. I hope you don't mind dogs...."
"Not at all," Dakhan answered, "They're great. I've had a few myself."
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted then," the caretaker announced.
When Hunter made to escort her to the door, the woman said, "Never mind. I can see myself out. Mrs. Witterhshall will be so grateful."
Turning back to her new charge, Hunter commented, "Either you travel light or you've got things on the way. Never mind though, we can make do."
"Thank you," Dakhan gave her the ghost of a smile, "I do have some things in storage, including some clothing. If you have a telephone, I can call the shipping company to send some of it over.
"Is there anything in particular you yourself need or would like for your apartment?" He asked, "I've got quite a few pieces of furniture and art, if you want to spruce things up."
Hunter glanced around at her rather sparsely furnished home. What with getting the bookstore up and running and life in general, she'd had little time to shop for furniture, except for the necessities. She had a table with three chairs, all mix and match, an old fridge, a microwave and a bed. She had to laugh.
"Knock yourself out!" She told him.
"If you say so."
Again he gave her that almost shy smile. Then he took the phone she offered and punched in a phone number.
One morning one of Mrs. Wittershall's caretakers came to her door with a young man in tow. Hunter opened the door with her typical grin.
"Well hello," Hunter smiled, "C'mon in!"
The caretaker, a woman in her forties, and the young man had followed her up the staircase to Hunter's apartment over the book store she ran. Once inside, Hunter scrounged about for three chairs while McRorie, her Irish wolfhound, greeted with visitors with a thorough sniffing. His waving tail stopped dead still as his sensitive nose went over the young man's clothing. He gave a low growl.
"Never mind him," Hunter piped up, "Sometimes he's a little grouchy." She took a fistful of the cu's bearded face and admonished the dog, "Stop that! Mrs. Wittershall sent them."
McRorie humphed in the way only a wolfhound could manage and returned to his rather elegant new dog bed. He flopped down with a sigh and listened to the conversation intently.
"Let me introduce to one of Mrs. Wittersham's friends," the caretaker gestured to the young man beside her, "This is Dakhan Bardias."
The young man inclined his head in greeting.
I'm pleased to meet you," he said.
Hunter detected a bit of a strange accent to his tone, but she thought nothing of it. After all, New York was quite the melting pot of cultures.
"Nice to meet you too," she replied, "I'm Hunter Dumont. I own the bookstore downstairs."
"Mrs. Wittersham would like to ask a favor of you, my dear," the caretaker said, "Mr. Bardias is very new to the city and needs a job and a place to stay until he gets settled. Since you have such a large apartment, she was wondering if you could put him up for a while?"
Hunter had spent all of her teen years looking after a house and a teenage brother. This will be a piece of cake, she thought. Having some help in the store would be nice too. Not to mention that the young fellow was hot, hot, hot! Hunter stamped decisively on her rising libido. What? This kid was probably at least five years her junior. Man, she was getting desperate for a man in her life when she started considering robbing the cradle.
"Why sure," she agreed, "I've got and extra bedroom and quite a bit of floorspace. I hope you don't mind dogs...."
"Not at all," Dakhan answered, "They're great. I've had a few myself."
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted then," the caretaker announced.
When Hunter made to escort her to the door, the woman said, "Never mind. I can see myself out. Mrs. Witterhshall will be so grateful."
Turning back to her new charge, Hunter commented, "Either you travel light or you've got things on the way. Never mind though, we can make do."
"Thank you," Dakhan gave her the ghost of a smile, "I do have some things in storage, including some clothing. If you have a telephone, I can call the shipping company to send some of it over.
"Is there anything in particular you yourself need or would like for your apartment?" He asked, "I've got quite a few pieces of furniture and art, if you want to spruce things up."
Hunter glanced around at her rather sparsely furnished home. What with getting the bookstore up and running and life in general, she'd had little time to shop for furniture, except for the necessities. She had a table with three chairs, all mix and match, an old fridge, a microwave and a bed. She had to laugh.
"Knock yourself out!" She told him.
"If you say so."
Again he gave her that almost shy smile. Then he took the phone she offered and punched in a phone number.