“I hope so,” I said before gulping down the rest of my drink. Maybe it was the vodka, or maybe I needed a release for my pent-up anger, but I surprised both of us with what I said next. “Want to sleep with me tonight?”

  “Really? Are you sure?” Ethan asked. His blue eyes lit up. The desire practically wafted off his skin.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I had never been surer of anything in my life.

  I started walking up the stairs and called over my shoulder, “Are you coming?”

  Ethan followed without a word. The second we entered the bedroom, I tore off his clothes and pushed his rock-solid chest so he was sitting on the side of the bed and leaning back on his hands. I stripped for him. I knew the parts of my body he found irresistible and made sure he drank them all up. Slowly. He was a man who’d been crawling through the desert, and I was his water. He went to say something, and I placed my finger on his mouth to silence him. Stepping back, I finished by shimmying out of my panties and kicking them to the side. Then sidled up to him, making him beg with his eyes. I lifted my tongue to my top lip with my mouth slightly parted, then watched his eyes turn hungrier. Hand on his chest, I pushed him to his back then climbed on top, straddling him with my legs that he couldn’t resist. With my head flung back, I rode him, extracting every thought of Emma from his memory with each thrust of my hips and pounding his mistakes in, showing him to never step out on me again, proving that he was mine.

  The next morning, I woke up and turned to find Ethan’s side of the bed empty. I panicked, then heard the shower. He didn’t leave me.

  Using sex to control men wasn’t something I particularly enjoyed. I grew up watching my mother do it. I instantly felt sick to my stomach for acting like her. My father walked out on us early enough I had no memories of him. My mother claimed he was a deadbeat who never held a job, and we were better off without him. She was probably lying. It’s where I got it from. If I had to guess, based on the parade of men she marched through our dilapidated trailer each night, she never had a clue who he was. I didn’t care either way. I had enough disappointment from one parent that I had no desire to duplicate that disappointment from another one.

  There were a few men who would stick around longer. They were usually at least a decade older than her, and only kept for their money. In those years, when my mother managed to hang on to one of those poor saps longer than a night, we would have food in the fridge. I sometimes ended up with a few outfits that fit and were purchased new and not handed down from some compassionate church group. But those men would eventually catch on to my mother’s true intentions when their bank accounts had been depleted in exchange for pills and vodka. They’d leave, and we’d be back to living off scraps and hand-me-downs.

  Then one summer day it was too hot to play outside and too hot to move around when inside. I sat in front of the window AC unit begging for mercy. My mother had stepped up her game by then, heroin being her drug of choice. I hadn’t heard her stir in her bedroom for hours, so I inched into her room and stood over her. She was disgusting, mouth hanging open, syringe lying next to her on the bed. While I stood and watched, her skin turned paler and grayer. Even my young mind knew something was wrong. I was at a crossroads. There was a very important decision to be made: call for help or go into my room and pretend I didn’t see a thing. I tiptoed to bed and watched the changing light move across my ceiling, waiting for the moon to complete its rotation and the sun to light up my room.

  The next morning, I listened for signs of my mother shuffling around the trailer. The only sounds coming through the paper-thin walls were the dripping of a faucet and the muffled static from the television. Had it worked? I let myself feel hope and crept out of bed then into my mother’s room. The lump under the comforter wasn’t moving. The hope bloomed. I tentatively inched closer. My mother’s unseeing eyes stared at nothing. I let myself breathe. I took four more confident steps, close enough to touch her, and gave her a hard shake. Her head lolled to the side, and those unseeing eyes looked through me. I jerked back, knocking over a lamp on her nightstand. My lips curved up into the biggest grin I’d ever smiled in my whole life, then pinched my arm until the tears came, before running to find a neighbor.

  After my mother’s death, I was sent to live with my grandmother, whose house was filled with sunshine and the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. I had never met my grandmother before then. Finally armed with the knowledge that a normal life, one filled with stability and love, had been just out of reach all that time was enough to erase any guilt I’d experienced from letting my mother die and not calling for help.

  No one knew this about me. It was a secret I’d kept in the deepest, darkest part of me. I was a phoenix who’d risen from the ashes on air made of lies. My entire life was built on a foundation of untruths. This is why lying came so naturally for me and why I was so good at it.

  I didn’t like to think about my mother. She deserved everything that happened to her. I shushed the voice in my head and reminded it those were things we don’t think about. I walked into the bathroom and joined Ethan in the shower—this time letting him take control.

  After the shower, we both dressed and went downstairs. Ethan made us each a cup of coffee and we sat at the kitchen table. So normal. And all the pieces of my life started to slide back into place.

  “Should we talk about it, or do you need more time?” he asked.

  “Talk about what? The sex?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah. The sex. Us. All of it.” Such a serious conversation, yet we were sipping our coffee and speaking like we were discussing the weather. The high from sex still tingled under my skin.

  “I’ve decided we can work things out. You don’t have to sleep in the guest room anymore. I don’t trust you, and you still have a lot to prove. But we can’t move forward and work on us without getting things back to normal.”

  He looked unsure. It wasn’t the reaction I wanted. I expected more fanfare. Jumping up and down, a whoop, something other than just sitting there looking confused. Is he having doubts? Was he thinking of her, of Emma? Even thoughts of her name made my spine stiffen.

  “Well?” I prompted. The morning soured.

  “I’m just surprised is all. That’s great, really great, it’s just—” He hesitated. “I’m in no position to make demands, but I need things from you, too. I need you to try for me. Be more affectionate, show me you love me, and don’t spend all your time at work.”

  I swallowed what I’d like to say and stared through him with my face expressionless. He hated when I did that. He said it made him feel like I was tuning him out. I usually was. The conversation made me uncomfortable. I despised talking about these things. Feelings, our relationship. I preferred to just be. Ethan was the exact opposite. He was perfectly comfortable talking about feelings. I suppressed my instinct to snap back and smiled sweetly. “Well, it’s settled, then. And we both have promises to keep.”

  “Yes, settled,” he said. The husky sexiness was back in his voice. It melted me enough to dismiss his demands. Once he was back, I’d decide if my prize was worth keeping or if I’d throw it away later. It was too hard to decide with Emma muddling up my thoughts. I needed her out of the way to figure out my true desires.

  Ethan stood and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, Cass. It’s always been you. We’ll get us back. I promise.” He walked into the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  His phone chimed on the table next to his coffee mug.

  I can’t meet tonight. Come over this afternoon.

  It was from Emma.

  Twenty-Seven

  Cass

  “You slut, I can practically smell the sex on you.” Julie shook her head, smiling at me from the other side of my desk. “Should I high five or shake you?”

  “Twice. Ugh, I have no self-control,” I said, covering my face with my hands.

  “Not with Ethan. You never did. I just knew it,” she said, slapping her leg. “I was telling Victoria last night; I bet she caves. I still don’t trust him. You can get all gooey and smooshy for him, but I’m keeping my eye on him.”

  I considered telling Julie what I’d seen on Ethan’s phone. I was a fool. I believed him, and he was just playing me, playing her too, actually. I wondered what Emma would think if she knew how hard he was working to get me back. He was probably telling her the same things, how much he loved her, that it was only them. She was probably sitting in her apartment holding her breath, waiting on him to leave me and come running into her arms. She could hold it forever, turn blue from it, suffocate.

  “I know, I know. I let him move back into our room too,” I said. I still wasn’t ready to give up and let Emma declare victory.

  “I’m not in love with Ethan, so my forgiveness doesn’t come so easily. I still think you should kick him out, make him suffer through at least a month of Sandra. But you never listen to my good advice,” Julie said.

  “I always listen to you, except when you’re wrong,” I said and let out a strangled laugh. Julie arched an eyebrow. I should tell her. She can help. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She’d never forgive Ethan. And just in case I did decide to stay with him, I didn’t need the extra drama.

  “What do you think people will say?” I asked.

  “About what? No offense, but everyone already knows what happened. The toothpaste has been squeezed from the tube—there’s no putting it back.”

  “No, I know. I meant about him living with me. About me staying with him. Will people talk about it?”

  “I mean, probably. It’s not like he isn’t already living there. But people have short memories. They are too wrapped up in their own shit to think about everyone else’s all the time. It makes for an interesting story now, but it will be old news soon. I’m going on record to say I’m totally against this, though.”

  I changed the subject and explained how I finally called the police on Emma, and Officer Daley planned to speak with her today.

  “Good. Because I was about to pay her a visit myself,” Julie said.

  She could visit her, but Ethan was still seeing her; he knew what she was putting me through and didn’t care. All this time, begging me not to leave him, to be with me, and still sneaking around with her, too.

  Why was I chasing after a man who was proving again and again he wasn’t worth it?

  The plans for Blaxten’s new brand launch were finally coming along. St. Pete had finished construction on the new pier, and I pulled some strings to rent out the entire thing. With 360° views of downtown St. Petersburg and the bay, it would be one of our best events. We’d start with dinner and speeches at the restaurant at the end of the pier and finish with live music and drinks outside. I read over the night’s itinerary for a third time when my phone rang.

  “Mrs. Mitchell, hello, it’s Officer Daley.”

  “Hi Officer, how did it go with Emma? Is she going to leave me alone now?”

  “I’m hoping so, ma’am. She admitted to sending you the initial email, but she denied sending anything else. That’s not a surprise, though. I’m hoping that my visit was enough of a scare and the harassing emails and texts will stop now.”

  I tapped my lips with my finger, wanting to ask more, like how she looked, what her body language suggested. But I doubted he was looking close enough to observe the small nuances I needed. No, the only person I could count on was me. Emma had declared check, and if she didn’t stop, I would be the one declaring checkmate.

  Twenty-Eight

  Alice

  A walk around the building to clear my head was in order. Cass was losing her luster. Her heart may be breaking but so was mine. I lost the most important person in my life. She wasn’t Cass anymore. Was this a temporary leave of absence? When would she return? If not temporary, the time to move on had arrived, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. Her work was suffering. We were on a sinking ship, and I was running out of fingers to plug the holes. The thought of leaving her was unbearable, but so was the thought of staying. I had time, I’m not sure how much, but a change of plans was in order, and planning was something I did best. There was no one better suited to fix this mess than me. I just needed to get a few obstacles out of my way.

  I walked back inside and found Cass sitting in her chair staring at the wall. Typical. “I’m going to take a drive to the pier. The events manager and I spoke earlier, and she said she’d be there this afternoon. Do you need me to take care of anything before I leave?”

  “Nope. All good here,” she said without looking at me.

  “I’ll be off then. Text if you need anything. I don’t think I’ll be back in time before you leave. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She finally turned her head and smiled. “Thank you, Alice. For everything.”

  I almost confessed everything right then and there. My fickle heart’s guilt almost got the best of me. I nodded curtly and turned to leave, then stopped.

  Tentatively I walked closer to her. “I’m not sure I’ve ever shared this with you.” I paused, waiting to ensure I had her full attention. “I didn’t have a family growing up. Well, not what one would consider a typical family. I’m sure it’s no surprise that I don’t have many friends, or even acquaintances. However, we’ve grown close over these years, and I consider you the closest thing I have to family. It pains me to see you going through this. I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I’m here for you. As your assistant, but also as a friend.”

  Her hand lifted to her chest. I imagined her heart beating beneath it. She reached out with both hands and clasped mine tightly. “I appreciate that. And you. You do have friends. At least one very good one. I’m here for you too, I hope you know that.” She released her grip on my hands and I left. There were no words to be said. Anything more could have ruined it.

  I didn’t have plans to drive to Emma’s apartment that day, I absolutely was going to go to the pier to speak with the events manager about final preparations. However, the exit to her place was right before the exit to the pier, and an unseen force pulled me off the highway.

  I parked in the lot in a spot with a clear view of her front door and pulled a hat low over my face. She lived in one of those two-story complexes where all the apartments’ front doors lined up facing the parking lot. Very unsafe if you ask me, as anyone could walk right up to your door or peer in your front window, but it made spying much easier. When Emma’s door opened and a familiar girl walked out, I audibly gasped.

  What in the world is Aubrey doing here?

  I watched her slide down and drop her head to her knees then crawl to the window. I leaned forward to make sense of the scene unfolding before me. She jerked back and fell, scrambled to her feet, and ran away crying. The chances of her recognizing me or my car were slim, but I slouched down in my seat just in case.

  I sat in my car debating whether to drive away or try to get a look inside Emma’s apartment. I wanted at the very least to understand what had spooked Aubrey. I tried to think of an excuse to explain my presence when another Mitchell pulled into the parking lot and ran up the stairs his daughter had just run down.

  Tsk, tsk Ethan. You’re not supposed to be here.

  I didn’t wait to see how long he stayed in his girlfriend’s house.

  Foregoing the pier, I drove back to the office

  “And you are absolutely certain it was Ethan and Aubrey you saw?” Julie asked me.

  “Yes. Without a doubt.”

  Julie stood and walked to her window. Her back stiffened and she turned. “Wait. What were you doing at Emma’s apartment?”

  I’d prepared for this question and answered with ease. “I just had a feeling. I can’t explain it. I was passing by her exit, and something told me, ‘Alice, you need to turn there.’” I hoped the information was enough, that Julie wouldn’t dig further and ask how I knew it was Emma’s exit, for example. I willed her to move on. We held each other’s stares.

  “Come with me. Let’s tell her what you saw.”

  One down, one to go.

  Cass looked up, brows touching, when we entered her office. “What’s going on? Alice, I thought you were going to the pier. Why are you two looking at me like that?”

  Julie closed the door. We remained standing.

  “Go on, Alice. Tell her.”

  I explained the perplexing scene I’d witnessed.

  “That’ll be all,” Julie interrupted when I’d gotten to the end.

  “I’m so sorry, I know this is terrible news—”

  “I said, that will be all,” Julie repeated, her brown eyes boring into mine.

  I resisted the urge to humph. She had quite the nerve. I come here and give them pertinent information, and this is the thanks I get. I may not be so inclined to share the next time I observe something amiss. Perhaps I’ll leave Julie out from now on. Perhaps I’ll find a way to get rid of her completely.

  “I already knew,” I heard Cass say as I closed the door.

  The urge to stay and listen was overwhelming. Knew what? That I was there? Aubrey? Or that Ethan was?

  I sat in my cube, drumming my fingers on my keyboard, pretending to work. Standing, I pretended to stretch. Julie looked through the window and our gazes met. Her head tilted to the side, and I collapsed into my chair.

  I packed up my things for the second time that day and drove home.

  At my kitchen table, I pulled out the folder of recent press featuring the agency and Cass. There had been an uptick due to the Blaxten win and upcoming event. I picked up my scissors and one by one methodically cut Julie out of every image. Once done, I popped the top off the black Sharpie and went through each article, crossing out each mention of Julie or Parker. With my work complete and spread in front of me it became quite obvious what needed to be done. Cass did not need these people in her life. They no longer served her in a positive way. She needed a fresh start.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26