This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, business establishments or events is entirely coincidental. Comments and feedback are highly appreciated, send to mozlover21@gmail.com
Electricity
Chapter 6.
She dug through her purse with a sense of building urgency. She could feel the Lyft driver throwing glances at her in the rearview mirror. She wasn't sure if it was because he was worried that she was crazy or because he found her attractive. She didn't care either way. She had a way with men, so he wouldn't pose a problem either way.
She turned her purse inside out and spilled out the contents onto his back seat.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Peachy," she answered, moving aside her Tom Ford pressed powder and Dior lipstick and searching through and endless sea of things including a notebook with a pen, a spare shirt, a hair brush, a hair tie, her wallet, a set of keys and a pack of gum. Everything was there, everything except the disposable camera. She made a mental note to look for it again when she got home.
"Heading to work?" the driver asked, making small talk. She could feel his eyes on her, taking in her long pale neck then moving down to her petite breasts, covered only by a thin layer of black silk. She was glad that Pride had a pretty lenient dress code. In her modeling days she wore all the outlandish designer gear a girl could dream of. There was no way in hell that she would switch up to office attire now. She was a tomboy at heart, so she paired the spaghetti top with a pair of distressed vintage men's Levi's. She stuffed the contents of her purse back inside, then threw on her sunglasses and applied a new coat of lipstick.
"You can drop me off here," she replied, eyeing a coffee shop.
"Have a nice day," he said, a tad disappointed.
"You too love," she replied and gave him a smile, then stepped out of the car like she was stepping onto a runway.
Inside the coffee shop she ordered two lattes, and while she waited she scoured the web on her iPhone for the latest Andrew Thompson news. News sites, celebrity gossip sites, blogs, Tumblr, Instagram and any other site and app that had anything new on him. Shockingly as of late it was pretty quiet. No outrageous late night outings. No stumbling out of the club drunk. No new men leaving his condo in the early hours of the morning. It appeared to Kat that he was trying to be on his best behavior. The article was a blow, but if he thought this was the end of it, he was dead wrong.
She grabbed her lattes and smoothly maneuvered her way to Pride headquarters.
"Fresh coffee for you Mr. Miller. I picked up and ground the beans myself all the way in Guatemala. Then I said a little prayer over them and added a couple drops of children's tears along with a sprinkle of glitter," she said, handing over the latte to Aubrey who chuckled.
"Well good morning to you, ray of sunshine," he replied and took a sip. She didn't like many people, but she liked Aubrey, and keeping herself indispensable to him was crucial to her at this moment. His writer's block couldn't have come at a more perfect time for her. "I have some new ideas for you today," she mentioned and he smiled.
"Actually, I've made some progress of my own today," he replied, pointing to his screen where a Word document was filled with writing.
"Oh," she mumbled, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. "That's fantastic news! A cause to celebrate. Drinks later?"
"Maybe, I think Tom mentioned wanting to do something tonight," he replied frowning and trying to remember something.
"Yes, trivia night at Bull's Eye. I completely forgot, he invited me too!"
"That's right, trivia night, how could I forget. That oughta be a blast," he said sarcastically and she laughed.
"Is that the Thompson piece you're working on?" she asked as casually as she could muster. He tensed up.
"No, it's not. I really don't think a part two is coming anytime soon," he said decisively and she felt her stomach drop.
"Are you sure about that?" she asked, and it came out sounding more ominous than she intended it to.
"Listen, I know you worked hard on that article," he said, lowering his voice. And she was glad that he remembered the predicament he was in. She held all the cards here, and she wouldn't be afraid to use them if need be. She held his job in the palm of her hand, and clearly he needed to be reminded of that. "But I am not comfortable continuing down that path. We said all we needed to say."
"And this has nothing to do with the fact that you were spotted having dinner with him the other night, right?" she asked, revealing another ace up her sleeve. He looked taken aback. When he spoke again, she detected a hint of agitation in his voice.
"How do you know we had dinner?"
"Never mind that, let's just say I haven't stopped doing my research. Of course I am going to keep this information to myself, but I have to warn you, if word gets out that would be really bad for your career."
"I'm well aware," he replied.
"Good," she said, then added cheerfully, "See you tonight." She would return to this subject later, after he'd had some time to come to his senses and do the right thing. There was going to be another Andrew Thompson article, whether he wanted to write it or not.
She sat at her desk and continued to dig up any scrap of news she could. When nothing new turned up, she began to answer her work emails. At lunch, she stepped out into the courtyard and made a phone call she'd been avoiding for days. Every time she heard his voice she would feel helpless. But it would also focus her and remind her of her purpose. And she needed to check in on him, make sure he was okay.
"Hi Mister Carrot," she said before he could even say hello. They used funny names for each other since they were kids.
"Hello Miss Cabbage." She smiled.
"How are you?"
"I'm okay," he replied, sounding anything but okay.
"Have you been crying today?"
"No," he lied, she could hear by his hoarse voice that he had. She felt the anger bubble up inside her once more.
"What did you do all day?" He sighed.
"I stayed in and watched Sunset Boulevard."
"All day?" There was silence on the other end. "Alfie, you know you need to get out and do things. Staying in is not going to help you feel better. We've been over this. Sign up for a spin class, go to the coffee shop, go out and be social."
"Did you call to make me feel better or worse?" he asked.
"I need you to be okay. You're my little brother, if anything were to happen to you," she started but got choked up and couldn't finish.
"I know," he replied.
"How are the parental units?" she asked.
"Oh, you know. Mom keeps walking around like some type of zombie pretending everything is okay. She had the audacity to invite me to her dreadful little ladies lunch. Can you imagine me there, with those nightmare broads in their out of style St. John outfits getting drunker by the minute while gossiping about whose husband is screwing the nanny?" Kat laughed. "And you know dad. Stiff upper lip. Never show emotion. He's in his office all day, then comes home and watches..." he trailed off suddenly as if his throat closed off, and both of them remained silent for a long while. He didn't have to say it, she knew the remainder of that sentence.
"I have to run," she said.
"I love you," he said and her heart expended.
"I love you more than anything," she replied and hung up. Having to witness his struggle had been the most painful and helpless thing she'd ever experienced. And now...now there would be revenge.
She didn't want to go back to work, she couldn't. Her nerves were all over the place. She ordered a Lyft and knocked on the door of the only person in town who could make her feel better now.
"Hey you," he said, answering her urgent knock.
"I'm sad," she stated plainly.
"Poor darling," he said, letting her through. This is what she most enjoyed about their affair, the way they understood each other. "What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it now. I want you to get me off so I can forget about it for a while." He stared back in amazement.
"I've never met a woman like you. A woman who can say something like that. A woman who's certain of herself."
"Hush," she replied and took him by the hand and into the bedroom. She was all too familiar with the place.
She closed the door behind them to keep the dog out. Afterwards they both got dressed and got into his car and drove to Bull's Eye.
"He's wavering you know."
"Wavering?"
"On the article. I think he's enamored with Thompson."
"No way," Tom replied.
"You don't get it. That's what he does. He plays with men. His game is good, it's really good. You can't blame anyone for falling for it."
"Aubrey would never," Tom stated.
"You don't think he would cheat?"
"I know for a fact he would't."
"And how are you so sure?"
"It's just not in his nature."
"Maybe, or maybe he's never met a handsome millionaire football star before. That will make you do a lot of things you wouldn't think you're capable of." Tom gave her a measured look but remained silent. "All I'm saying is, it would be in both of our best interest if he went ahead with the second article."
Tom nodded, and she changed the subject to something lighter. He was one of her only allies in this and she had to tread carefully. She had planned this for too long and had sacrificed too much to let it all fall apart now.