“Good.” Nico smiles reflectively, chuckling to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
“She burned the bottle.”
“Burned the bottle? I’m surprised you even let her near the stove.” It’s been a running joke since Nico and Elle met, the woman is smart, beautiful, funny…but put her in the kitchen and she’s like a nun at a sex toy shop, scared and totally at a loss at what to do with any of the equipment.
“It was two in the morning. I guess she didn’t put enough water in the pot she was using to warm the bottle. Melted the plastic. Smoke alarms, fire department…the whole nine yards.” Nico smiles, clearly amused instead of upset.
“She’s never gonna live this one down.”
“Nope.”
Laughing, together we walk to the back room for water. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why Elle?”
Nico furrows his brow, confused at my question. He’s not sure where the question came from and oddly, neither am I. “You went out with a lot of women.” I smirk. “A lot. Think half the reason I got to the gym so early in middle school was to see what you had coming out from the night before.”
Tersely, Nico replies, “You got a point to this little walk down memory lane?” He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the counter, chugging half a water bottle down in one big gulp.
The amusement draining from my face, I’m in serious need of some advice, something I rarely ask from Nico. Not from anyone for that matter. “What made you know Elle was the right one?”
He’s quiet for a minute, giving his response thought before he replies, “I started to think about the future. Before Elle, I lived in the moment, never thinking past today or tomorrow. But the day I met her, I started to think about down the road…and every thought, every plan I made in my head, she was standing by my side.”
I nod. Thinking a few months ago I wasn’t even sure what I was doing at night as I got on my bike to go out. Yet this morning, as my mind wandered, I realized my lease would be up in six months, and I found myself wondering if maybe it would be time to move. Find a nicer place, one that Liv would like, possibly even want to share with me.
Nico waits, watching as I give his words some thought, I see a knowing grin rising to the surface. “You running on the treadmill or lifting every time you find yourself thinking of the future with Liv?”
I chuckle to myself, he’s so god damn right. “Running.” I smile.
Tossing our water bottles in the garbage, Nico slaps one hand on my shoulder as we head toward the door, turning off the lights as we pass through each room. “Eventually, you’ll be so exhausted from all the running, you’ll just give in.”
Chapter 43
Liv
The office I once loved walking into, with a feeling of pride and accomplishment consuming me, now relegated to Monday morning dread. My co-worker hates me, glares and sneers at me at every conceivable opportunity, my boss is a dreadful, leering sleezeball. All the honor and journalistic pride I felt starting this journey, crushed beneath the weight of the story I’ve been assigned.
“How’s the story coming, Olivia?” Summer smiles at me. I’m not sure if she’s grown ugly in the last two months, but I can no longer remember what I saw in her that I was jealous of when I first started. Her natural, glowing beauty disappeared, replaced by fake, stale, formulaic tricks to attract attention.
Ignoring her completely, I make my way into Sleezeball’s office for our Monday morning team meeting. Our sorry excuse for a team is one with only two players and a coach whose sole purpose is to get in our pants, rather than mentor us to watch our careers grow and prosper.
“Ladies. How are we today?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response. Mostly because he doesn’t really care. He exhales loudly, feigning remiss. “I’m really going to miss our Monday mornings together. Just a few more weeks and our little trio will become a couple.” Is this supposed to be motivation for winning the job? Because it’s making me feel like losing might not be such a bad thing after all. A lesser job a thousand miles away in New York is starting to sound appealing.
“I need both of your final stories two weeks from today.” Leaning back in his chair, he folds his arms over his chest and smiles at both of us, raising an eyebrow, almost daring us to complain.
“No problem, James. Mine will be ready. I had to scrap the fluff that was started, but my new research brought me a great new angle for the story. I think you’ll be very happy with it.” As she speaks, Summer slowly crosses and recrosses her legs, her barely professional length skirt hiking up a tiny bit more each time, a clearly calculated move. One that Sleezeball falls for, hook, line, and sinker. Of course.
“Wonderful, I’d expect nothing less from you, Summer,” he leers. “You’ve really shown us what an asset you can be.” Yeah, she’s shown her assets alright.
Begrudgingly, Sleezeball turns his attention to me after a minute, but only because I’m speaking and he’s forced to. “I’ll have your story ready.”
Almost salivating at the thought of the story I’ll be bringing him, his smile makes my skin crawl. “I can’t wait to sink my teeth into your story, Olivia. Can’t wait.”
Heart heavy in my chest, I spend the morning working on the background for my story. I pray I’ll never need to hand it in, but I need to get words on paper nonetheless. I start with Senator Knight, still unable to bring myself to write anything at all about Vinny. Guilt consumes me. My mind wanders, looking back at the last month I wonder where I went wrong. How did I let myself grow so attached to a man that may soon hate me? Is this really what I worked for? The chance to write stories that will sell papers, at the cost of tearing apart lives? Have I just been naïve all along, putting my journalistic role models up on pedestals as noble, when they’re really only ink slinging exploiters?
By lunchtime I’m in desperate need of fresh air, my brain clogged with questions for which I have no answers. Feeling everything I dreamed about my whole life might just be a sham, I feel lost. Like the weight of the world I built up in my head is coming down to crush my dreams.
Outside the gloomy, gray day seems fitting, as if the universe is in sync with my feelings. Caught up in my head, at first I’m startled as a strong arm grabs me from behind, pulling me into the alleyway just a half a block away from my intended lunch destination. But something familiar hits me, and for a few short seconds, I think it’s Vinny being playful. Then my arm’s wrenched back further, causing pain to shoot from my shoulder to my wrist, and I realize I’m wrong…Vinny would never hurt me.
One of the hands gripping me moves to cover my mouth and the other locks both my hands in one of his, using a shoulder to slam my back into a brick wall. Hard. The force knocks the wind right out of me.
“What kind of a game do you think you’re playing, Miss Michaels?” My eyes widen to find Senator Knight’s face inches from mine, scathing anger mars his normally perfectly refined features, his practiced smile nowhere to be found.
His hand tightly over my mouth, I couldn’t respond if I wanted to, although it doesn’t take long to realize he wasn’t expecting a response.
“My life has value. Unlike that drug addict and her violent spawn. If you think you can just waltz in and destroy me, you’re sadly mistaken. No one will give a shit if they were to be lost in a tragic accident. Do you understand me?” He increases the pressure on his hand covering my mouth.
I stare, frozen in place, unable or unsure if I’m expected to respond this time.
“Do you understand me?” he screams loudly, his eyes wild, our faces nose to nose. It’s not the volume that scares me, it’s the anger and desperation in his voice that makes me believe his words are more than just a threat. I shake my head as much as I can with his hand still pressed to my mouth, pinning me against and the wall.