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“I bet. It’s well after the time you’d normally get home if I had dropped you off.” Casey snuggles against my chest, still wrapped in the towel, and I know the time is right to talk about what happened.

“What a mess. James, what are we going do?” Casey places her hand over my heart and I hold her tight, afraid to let go.

“Weather it like any storm, except together. No running or avoiding it.” The truth is the only thing we have. Plus, this isn’t something easily covered up. I’m anticipating phone calls from our legal department, maybe the FCC, probably HR on top of potential caller complaints… All things I don’t want to think about or mention to her until tomorrow–later today when the time is right.

She’s quiet and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep until she speaks softly, “I’m so embarrassed.” A tremble is my only indication she’s not actually crying, just deeply unsettled. Embarrassed doesn’t even come close to covering the feelings I have as the anger builds. Our relationship is our business and not something we should have to be ashamed of for any reason.

“I’m going to find out who did this.” I don’t know if this is a promise I can keep, but I’ll do everything in my power to find the culprit responsible.

“I know you will, James. I know you will.” Casey leans up and kisses me sweetly, a tear trailing down her cheek, splashing against my bare chest like ice.

I look at her, assessing every curve of her face. I’m relieved she’s physically okay, but who knows what the hell could have happened. Is more is coming our way? “I want to hire a security firm for protection and to investigate what the fuck is going on. Last time the police couldn’t find anything out and I’m not willing to take any chances.” Wordless, she nods. I know there isn’t any other option than to figure out who is responsible…

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21

Casey

A buzzing sound attacks our warm little nest. I try swatting my arms to end the annoying interloper when I realize it’s James’ phone vibrating. Our blissful unawareness of the outside world is over. The device clamors to the edge of my nightstand and James manages to catch it, looking at the screen.

“Shit,” he grunts before placing the phone back down again and flopping against the mattress and pillows. His chest heaves a sigh that lifts me up.

“What is it?” Bothered, I lean on my elbow, pushing the sheets and comforter down, realizing we fell asleep wrapped in damp towels. James avoids eye contact so I give him a gentle shove. “Hey, I thought we were in this together.”

“It’s my lawyer’s office.” He looks in the direction of my window, face drawn tight as light struggles to peek through my blackout curtains.

“So…” I tap my finger against his chest and James gives me a wry look. This conversation could go in a number of ways, and my stomach rebels stinging sharp with acid. “Call them back, James. See what they want.” I don’t want to know but, after a few hours of sleep, things feel a bit different today. It’s a Band-Aid better ripped off all at once.

“Honestly, I’d rather not.” Pulling me down, he wraps his arms around me and playfully rolls me over onto my back. It’s nice, but I also know he’s avoiding things. Things that simply won’t go away.

“Honestly, I’d prefer we get this sorted out.” He exhales a deep sigh, his head still buried in my neck giving me a sucking, sloppy kiss. “Hey! Don’t start that!”

“Party pooper.” Grumbling, he gets out of bed, taking his phone. He grabs his clothes from the bathroom and dresses. I get to watch him step into his black boxer briefs with ease, sliding his pants up his legs, concealing his delicious body. He drops his wrinkled dress shirt over his head, buttoning it. Hair hangs over his forehead, recklessly mussed.

“I’ll be right back.” Annoyed, he walks into the living room; although he must know I’ll be able to hear every word that is said. I decide that, whatever the outcome, we need sustenance. Food and coffee won’t set things to rights, but it will help get us on track.

Pushing myself from the bed, I grab our towels and drop them in the hamper, grabbing a silk robe from the closet. As I tie it around me, I hear the front door of my apartment shut. I rush to peek out of the bedroom, missing James as he closes the door. Walking through the living room, it looks like chaos exploded in my living space between small messes of tossed pillows and a throw blanket.

My apartment is nothing like my parents’ modest home in Delaware. They live in their safe little neighborhood, picket fence, and all the other amenities that come with staid and normal lives. Emptiness fills my chest leaving me hollow and sad as I look at the sum total of my life collected in this little room.

The evening runs through my mind again and again. I try to busy myself by tidying up and popping in a coffee filter with grounds from an almost empty bag. I don’t have a fancy coffee maker so this will have to do as water from the tap fills the reservoir. I never thought James Austin, my boss, would be sleeping over, let alone calling me his girlfriend. Self-doubt hovers in the air like a stink I can’t get rid of. I check my refrigerator for food, but I’m greeted with two percent milk, moldy cheese, and take-out leftovers I need to get rid of. Maybe this is a game for James. I’m an easy target, the single chubby girl working at the bottom of the totem pole. My thoughts continue to roll downhill as I’m pouring a cup of coffee when the door opens and shuts.

“You smell amazing in the morning.” James makes a production of smelling my hair before snatching my coffee cup from my fingers. I should have known it was a ruse. I watch him, my eyes assessing his mood.

“You’re just after my coffee.” My voice is clipped and I hate that I sound a little desperate for reassurance.

Thoughtfully, he takes a sip. “Don’t hate the game. Hate the player.”

I pour myself a new cup and turn to face him. He looks wary. I warm my chilled hands on the cup, sipping carefully to avoid the chip in the rim.

“So what did your lawyer say?” My stomach knots and I put the cup down on the counter. James looks at the cup, his eyebrows furrow for a moment and he switches cups with me. I begin to protest but he traces my lip with his finger. Speechless at his thoughtfulness, he smiles, and his eyes follow mine watching his gentle touch outline my pouting lips.

“I can’t let these beautiful lips get injured.” I kiss his fingers and he gets back to being all business again. “We have a meeting at one this afternoon.” James sips his coffee from the damaged cup looking at me over the rim, setting it down next to mine on the counter. Moments like this confuse me; his thoughtfulness makes me suspicious, baggage I can blame on bad ex-boyfriends and useless beauty magazines.

“We? As in both of us?” Nerves shake me. I was never much of a rule breaker, but I’m worried that something much bigger is trying to consume us and destroy our fragile beginning.

James is leaning against the counter, looking at me. Maybe he’s carefully choosing his words, or maybe there’s no good answer to any of this. All I know is that I’m scared everything I worked for is going down the sink quicker than Drain-o. “Casey, it’s going to be all right.” He knows there’s nothing that can be said to reassure me right now.

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