“I [pant] did [pant].” I sucked in a big gulp of air, shooting a glance at Felix’s office. He was sitting at his computer, no doubt making all the last minute changes to copy before sending in final draft. “Give me five minutes,” I said, hurtling toward my desk.
“You only have four!” Allie yelled. Then looked down at her watch and amended it to, “Three now!”
I ignored her, diving for my desk and pulling up the file I’d typed out earlier. No time to read over it. I prayed it was relatively typo-free.
I formatted it, logged it into the system, my finger hovering over the send button. Five fifty-nine.
I stood, glancing over the tops of the cubicles toward Felix’s office. Allie sat on the edge of his desk, giggling. Legs crossed, thigh exposed, boobs inches from his face. He was one step away from drooling on his button-down shirt. God bless the little tart.
I pounded my finger down on the enter key, sending my column in just as the clock changed to six. I held my breath, waiting for confirmation that I’d made it in time. Two second later, the little window popped up telling me my open note to my stalker would indeed appear in the morning edition.
I let out a sigh so big it ruffled my hair, then closed my eyes and fell back into my chair with a moan of relief.
“What was that?”
My eyes popped open to find Cal suddenly at my side, his gaze on my screen.
“Uh…my column. I forgot to send it in earlier. Just made it under the wire. Lucky, huh? Well, that’s it for today. Ready to go?” I gave him my best attempt at a breezy smile.
His eyes narrowed. Unfortunately for me, Cal was no dummy.
I ignored him, instead grabbing my purse, flipping off my desk light, and heading for the elevator.
Only I didn’t get far.
“Bender!”
I must have been a little on the jumpy side, because at the sound of Felix’s voice booming from his office, I think I peed my pants a little.
“Yeah?” I squeaked out, my heart leaping into my throat. Please tell me the blonde did her job…
“Your column,” he said, his eyebrows hunkering down in an angry slash.
I licked my lips. “What about it?”
“It’s late.”
I did a mental sigh of relief so loud, I swear even Aunt Sue could have heard it. “Right. Sorry. I just sent it in. Must have slipped my mind earlier.” I smacked my forehead in a super-graceful move as if to illustrate the point.
Felix nodded. “Good.” Then disappeared back into his office.
And I made a beeline for the elevators before anything else could go wrong.
At Cal’s place we found a note from the aunts saying Sue had over-boiled the macaroni and they’d gone to pick up hoagies for dinner. Cal mumbled something about getting some paperwork done and headed off to his bedroom. Which was fine with me. After the nerve-wracking day I’d had, I could use a little me time anyway.
I plopped down on the sofa and booted up my laptop, checking my email. I half-hoped, half-feared another note from my stalker, but my inbox was conspicuously empty. As in no messages at all. Not a one. Marco was right, news of my involvement with the police was spreading faster than a summer wildfire, and my informants had all gone mum.
This sucked.
I prayed my article tomorrow did its job. Otherwise, I was likely to be stuck covering the baby bump beat with Cam for any kernel of a story.
Trying not to dwell on that unpleasant thought, I pulled up a blank screen and began typing my exclusive story on the fall of a child star turned murderer and the final hours of character actor Jake Mullins. I was halfway through Alexis’s emotional confession-just to the part when she dissed her husband’s acting abilities-when an IM popped up in the corner of my screen.
Hey, babe.
I sucked in a deep breath.
Hi, Black.
How you doin?
Got an hour? But I finally settled on, meh.
Meh? I take it that means not good.
This story, I explained. It’s…complicated.
There was a pause. Then, I’m worried about you.
I felt my throat suddenly clog with emotion. Here I had blown Black off not once, but twice, and not only was he not mad, not even mentioning my standing him up, but he was genuinely worried about me.
I’m okay.
You sure?
I nodded at the empty living room. Yep.
I’ve missed you.
I’ve missed you, too, I typed, honestly meaning it. Okay, so I knew Black was a fantasy. And our whole relationship consisted of a few words on a screen. But I had missed him. I’d missed having someone who cared enough to ask if I was okay. I’d missed having someone I felt comfortable talking to. Really talking. Honestly. Maybe it was because of the anonymity, the fact that I’d never really expected to meet Black in person, but I felt I could be honest with him in a way I couldn’t with anyone else in my life. I didn’t really know why. And I didn’t want to analyze it. All I knew was, he felt good. And I’d missed it.
Hey…Knock knock, he typed.
I couldn’t help the corner of my mouth tilting up.
Who’s there?
Madame.
Madame who?
Madame foot’s caught in the door.
I laughed out loud.
Good one.
Thanks. Talk tomorrow?
Definitely. And this time, I really meant it.
’Night, Bender. Be good.
’Night, Black.
And then his little “online now” icon disappeared. I left the IM window open, rereading our conversation again to hold on to that comforting feeling just a little longer. And I found myself chuckling out loud a second time over his corny joke.
“What’s that?”
I spun around to find Cal standing behind the sofa, looking over my shoulder, squinting at the conversation on my laptop screen.
I quickly flipped the top down.
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t look like nothing. You chatting with someone?”
“No!” Which in hindsight might have come out a decibel or two higher than convincing.
His other eyebrow lifted.
“Someone special?” Cal teased.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s no one. Just a friend.”
“Uh huh.” He sat down on the sofa beside me, giving me an expectant look. He clearly wasn’t going to let this one go.
“He’s…a pen pal.”
“So, it is a man.”
“Sorta.”
“Sorta?”
“No, he’s a screen. I mean, he’s not real. Well, I guess he’s real in that there is someone typing, but he could be anyone, you know? Some loser in his mother’s basement, some creep in prison, who knows?”
“So, your pen pal is a felon?”
“No! Look, I don’t know who he is. He’s just…nice.”
He tilted his head to the side, his expression softening, going serious. “You going to meet this nice guy?”
I shook my head in the negative. “No, it’s not like that. Look, he’s just someone who…gets me. Not many people do, you know?”
He leaned in. The scent of fresh soap still clung to him. “Maybe that’s what you’d like to think.”
I pulled my eyebrows together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smiled. “It means if you’d quit being such a hardass, you’d see there are lots of people who care about you. Who care about your well-being.” He reached out a hand and gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Who get you,” he said quietly.
I swallowed. Hard. My body felt frozen, my skin tingling, blood rushing to my head as I tried to read the look in his dark eyes. It was soft. Almost tender, if I thought Mr. Tough Guy did tender. His face was inches from mine, so close I could feel his breath on my lips. My tongue darted out to lick them, and I followed his eyes to my mouth.