Page 40 of Total Exposure

“Smith doesn’t even know me.”

“Bric does.”

“Bric knows me now. But what you’re asking is who was I back then? And Bric didn’t know me then either. Don’t bother with Quin. He’s got no clue.”

“So you’re proud of this secret past you’re keeping from me?”

“It’s not a fucking secret, Chella. It’s just none of your business. Don’t you have to be at work or something?”

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

I sigh. Roll my eyes.

“Oh, my God,” she says, lowering her voice. “Wow. He’s fucking hot, Jordan. I salute you.”

“Shut up. It wasn’t even like that. It was like… the stuff I did with Bric. Or Quin. Club stuff.”

“OK,” Chella says. “So who was the girl?”

“Why do you care?”

Chella shrugs. “I just… I just think he looks sad, don’t you? I mean, I’ve seen it before. Sadness and I are well acquainted and he definitely looks sad. Is that why you’re helping him?”

“I’m not helping him. I’m not doing anything. He’s just a fucking guy who can run some fucking cameras.”

“And keep his mouth shut.”

I glare at her.

“What? It’s obvious that whatever you’re doing with Lucinda is on the down low, right?” The ding of Chella’s phone saves me from answering. “That’s Smith,” she says, checking her text. “He’s done with his little permit thing.”

I scoff. “So you really were here for business.”

“I told you I was, Mr. Wells,” she says, standing up. “Come to my tea party next month. It’s on Valentine’s Day. Ixion’s coming.”

“He is not.”

“I invited him. So he’s coming.” Chella is the only woman I know who seems to think she controls the universe. Like she has it on a leash. Like her request is a done deal.

And it’s kinda true. Chella is pure. Sweet, considerate, loyal, and honest. I’m sure she has vices, but I’ve never seen them. So it’s like… everyone goes out of their way to make her happy. If she invites you to something, you go. Because it makes her happy. If she asks for something, you give it to her. Just to make her happy.

Chella deserves happiness and the whole world knows this.

She leans down to kiss me on the cheek, and in doing so, whispers, “I just worry about you, Jordan. You’re adrift. Don’t float too far away from us.”

I stare at her as she straightens up. Exhale. Loudly.

“So Valentine’s Day?” she says, hiking her purse strap onto her shoulder.

“No,” I say, holding fast.

“Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Ixion can be your date.”

She leaves before I can say anything to that last remark.

But in her wake she leaves something behind too. An air thick with the memories of past regrets. And yes, sadness.

It’s not like we planned it. Not at all. What happened… just happened. It was almost a natural progression of things. An inevitable conclusion.