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On my way to the front door, I walked past the grand piano, and, like a kid, I ran my thumb along the keyboard. Suddenly, I felt a bit embarrassed that I haven't a clue how to read music or how to even play Chopsticks on the instrument. "What am I doing here?" I mumbled. Noticing the golf cart headed toward the house, I swallowed and ran my fingers through my hair, hoping the guard dropping off my new phone wouldn't notice how out of place and out of touch I was living here in my own Casa Palacious.
Now, I was impatiently sitting behind my desk, tearing open the box and grabbing the phone. "What?" I turned it on to find it was a regular iPhone, just like the one security had taken from me. But then I noticed a VPN indicator came on and a red dot next to the signal strength flashed. When the home screen lit up, I shook my head. It was littered with several new apps that looked utterly foreign to me. "Fabulous," I said sarcastically.
Eager to give my new phone a test drive, though, I turned on the VPN and waited for it to connect. Once it did, I opened my email app. The login page came up, and I quickly typed in my username and password. As the page began to load, I noticed the red dot next to the signal strength begin to blink. "What the hell?" I said as I watched it turn green and then back to red again. And then, as quickly as it had started, the signal was gone, and I was staring at my home screen.
"Shit!" I slammed my fist on the desk.
Quickly, I logged in to my desktop computer, hoping the VPN was working there, at least. Nope! So, I picked up my burner phone but noticed the signal was weak. “I don’t need this today,” I said through my clenched teeth. Then, crossing my fingers, I called Chase.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
"Not much. Not much at all.” I said, trying not to sigh. "I just got my new phone, and the VPN doesn't work on it or my desktop."
"Oh, yeah? Did you follow the directions when you turned it on?"
"Of course I did. It's just not working." I tried to hide my frustration but doubted my lame effort worked.
“Hold on man, let me take a look," I could hear him roll his chair across the floor. "Okay, let me log into the server."
As Chase worked to fix the problem, I noticed his voice was a bit weak and raspier than usual. I knew he had been working with our new security agency and going through channels to get the video footage from ABC Security. "Do you need a break?" I asked, pleased I’d managed to be sensitive to my friend’s feelings.
"Nah, I'm alright. But Guy and I were up most of the night waiting for the video of Ariel's apartment to load. And we're still waiting."
Then Daniel stuck his face in front of Chase's camera. "Good morning, handsome..."
I shot him the bird. "What's the delay?"
"Formatting.... of course," Daniel snorted. "I like my idea better. We would have what we were looking for by now if we had done what I suggested in the first place."
"Well then. Shut down there at the office and bring your lazy asses out here. As you know, I'm buttoned up tight out here…secure as can be. What better place to do the dirty deed."
Chase's face reappeared. "Got any decent grub out there?"
"I'll call in my chef..." I chuckled. "And have him whip up a gourmet meal."
Chase scowled. "What chef?"
"I'll send security out to pick up something.” I chuckled.
"We'll be there in an hour or so. If you've forgotten, it's rush hour here in town,” Chase reminded me, “we’ll stop at the liquor store on our way.”
"Starting early, are we?" I snickered, as Chase gave me the thumbs up before logging off.
I picked up my new phone and noticed the VPN was green. Smiling, I pondered my choices. Should I call or text Ariel?
"Text! It's easier to accept rejection over text,” I muttered.
Instead, the reasonable side of my brain took the helm, and I found myself scrolling through my contacts. Locating Ariel's number, I hit video chat… and held my breath!
Chapter Seventeen
Ariel
Perched atop the feather bed, I furiously typed, imagining how my character Marc would react if he were being questioned by an investigator. Recently, Marcie expressed her pleasure with my work, so I looked forward to wrapping things up and taking a short break before beginning the next book. She estimated it would take me another week to finish. To expedite the process she followed behind me editing as I wrote. We both understood the sooner we wrapped things up, the sooner those royalty checks would start rolling in. In fact, Marcie was meeting with my publisher this morning.
As I sat up and cracked my back, my eyes drifted to the open closet where my unwashed sundress hung, haunting me. Damn it, my subconscious was working overtime. Why couldn't I get Guy out of my mind?
Maybe after writing this book and setting Marc free finally, I could move on.
