“You don’t have to do anything. It wasn’t your fault. You can react however you want to, okay?” He leans back, and his palms go to my cheeks. “None of that was your fault. Say it back to me.”
“Rick…”
“Say it.”
“It-it wasn’t my fault.”
“Good.” He smiles, that boyish smile he uses to try to lighten the mood. The one that’s real. That’s the real him. “That’s the truth. Okay? Believe it.”
I nod. I don’t want to go, but I have to. “I need to…” I nod to my car as my words trail off.
“Okay.” Rick backs up a step as I get into my car, but he looks as if he’s forcing himself to let me leave. Like he doesn’t want me out of his sight at all—ever.
I roll the window down once my car starts. “Thank you, again. I mean it.”
“See you tomorrow, Mary.”
I give him a weak smile and pull away. In that moment, I think I leave a little part of my heart back there with him. We’ve hung out, and of course he’s attractive, but this was the first time I’ve ever felt something deeper with him. Deeper than physical attraction. A meaningful moment.
The drive to my apartment takes forever, and I wonder how this will change my life. Am I going to be afraid to walk around corners? Walk downtown? Do anything? I know it will have a psychological impact of some kind. I make a note to talk to my doctor about seeing someone to discuss it. I don’t want it to change my life, but I know it’s going to, some way or somehow.
Sure enough, when I get out of my car, I practically run up the stairs to my apartment and unlock the door as fast as I can. Once I’m inside, I slam the door shut and lock the dead bolt too. I lean back up against the wall and do my best to breathe. Surely, this will get better. It’s because it just happened. The memory is still new and fresh.
Finally, I drop my bag on the couch, but I can’t help but move to draw the shades closed on the front window that overlooks the parking lot. I start to close them when my eyes catch something familiar. I squint to see, and I feel something for the second time tonight.
Before noon, I thought I was going to murder Rick Lawrence if he didn’t leave me alone. Now, I watch his car do a three-point turn around in my parking lot, then I catch the profile of his face in a streetlight as he drives away.
He followed me all the way home in his car, then sat across the way and watched to make sure I got to my apartment safe and sound. I don’t think he has any idea I just saw him either. His eyes never came up to the window. Something stirs inside me again. He didn’t do it to try to win brownie points or leverage some deal with me. He didn’t make sure I saw him to get some kind of credit. He did it because he genuinely cares about my safety.
I flop down on the couch and release a huge sigh. My life feels so out of control. Everything that’s happening is so not me. What in the world is going on between Rick and me?
I don’t know what I’m going to do, about any of this. Where does everything go from here?
Rick Lawrence
Decker has been droning on and on about Wells Covington in my office for twenty minutes, and I couldn’t tell you one thing he’s said. I think he’s telling me shit I already know about Pacific Imports or something. He likes to talk to everyone like they’re children and he’s the only one with brain cells. It happens with his type. He’s a controlling micromanager, so naturally I tune out.
All I can think about is all the shit that happened with Mary last night. I haven’t seen her all day and I have these Jesus of Nazareth tickets still burning a hole in my pocket.
“Do you think he’s aware of the behavior of these subsidiary companies? Found anything that would give definitive proof to it?” Decker stares at me waiting for a response.
I glance up at him. “Sorry, what?” What is it with Covington? I think he’s more obsessed than I am with Mary. There are a few unusual things, but this fucker owns pieces of thousands