So Manfred was finally able to convince his granddaughter to come and stay here. He was hoping Manfred would fail. Un-fucking-tunately, he didn't. He offered his house in Queen Anne where Angel McCready could stay, but Manfred refused. Manfred believed that this condo located in the heart of Seattle's busy environment would help heal his granddaughter's tired soul. But would Angel like it here? She must be expecting a posh condo. Pink Door wasn't the place for a rich woman like Angel. The rooms upstairs were small. Okay, this Angel needed a diversion, but what about him? He needed to finish polishing his manuscript right now. Babysitting a woman, especially one who'd been humiliated and cancelled the wedding that she dreamed and worked hard for because her fiancé was a fucking maniac was the last thing he wanted to do. After her ordeal, Angel would be worse than Hendrix when he was ten, crying all the time, afraid of the dark and wouldn't eat. At least, with Hendrix, he was able to cuddle with him and had managed to bribe him with ice cream and two hours of cartoons on television.
