The Small Things [Elvis]

Chapter 7 - Her Knight in a Black Suit

"Elvis, you should read this."

The Colonel tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table in front of me as I sipped some orange juice three mornings later in my rented LA house. The headline that I saw first was written in bold letters saying, Elvis Presley Makes Friends with Little Vet. I smirked when I saw the picture of me standing next to Shannon in her tiny vet clinic, and the height difference was definitely noticeable.

"This is old news, Colonel," I said and leaned back in the brown leather sofa and sipped my drink. "There was already a couple articles out that talk about me meetin' a little lady who's a vet. It's nothin' to worry about."

"This article is something to worry about," he refuted. "Read it."

I took the paper and unfolded it so I could read the full article. My brows creased as I read through it, and I set down my orange juice.

"See what I mean? Not only are they insulting that poor little lady, they're calling you a pedophile because people think you're interested in a lady who looks like a child. Have you read that comment about a lady wanting to keep her little girl away from you because you might go after her? A little girl who's only eight years old?"

This was making my gut twist. I threw the paper back onto the table, but it slid off to the floor where it rightfully belonged. "There's nothin' goin' on between Shannon and me."

"That doesn't matter. You're getting close to a woman who resembles a child. It makes people think that you would go after any female that size."

"Well, that's bull shit, and both you and I know it."

"Again, it doesn't matter. What matters is what the people think." He picked up the paper from the floor and showed it to me. "And they think that you're a pedophile. Please tell me that what your friends have been accusing you of isn't true—that you have feelings for her."

I seriously wanted to find the reporter who wrote that article and give him a piece of my mind. "She's twenty-four, Colonel, five years younger than me."

"That's not answering my question."

Her picture was nestled in my inside coat pocket, and it felt like lead. My not answering my manager wasn't a good sign for him.

"Oh my God, Elvis!" he reprimanded, and I shot out of the sofa and faced him, fire in my eyes.

"It's not like I could stop my heart from goin', Colonel! She may be the size of a child, but she isn't one! She's a good, kind, animal-lovin' woman who has been through hell in her life just because of how God made 'er. It's not her fault!"

"I know it's not, my boy, and I agree that she's an admirable young lady, but if word gets out that you think of her in a way that's more than a friend, your reputation will plummet, more so than when you started seeing Miss Beaulieu." He came up to me with pleading eyes. "Don't go and see Miss Comm again, and if she happens to be on the set for whatever reason, steer clear of her. Do you understand?"

I planted my hands on my hips and let out a huff through my nose as my chest pinched with irritation with this whole situation. "I can't do that, Colonel. She's my friend."

"You're going to have to do it, Elvis. You know the people in this article have a point. They see you with a woman the size of a child, so that means you could go after a child. That's what they think. You need to stay away from Miss Comm, no matter how old she is or how successful a woman she is. And... I might add this—Mr. Rich is thinking of adding her as a child extra. Meaning, she would play a child at the carnival. So, like I said, steer clear of her on the set."

This was news to me! "Wait, he wants to cast 'er as a child extra?"

"He was thinking about it. He told me yesterday while you were working on your stage number. So, this adds to the reason why you should stay away from her. If people see you associating with a woman who is dressed like a child and looks like one, bad things will happen."