Shelter in Place: Quarantine Romance Collection Includes New Novella

by Jamie Knight

Certainly, the idea needed some refinement but there was time. He knew he could do it. He sat down and looked out over the city for an immeasurable period before rising and commanding the Smart TV on.

  “Replay security archive VS 1, please,” Harlan requested.

  The footage of Tory snapping pics in the auditorium played. In seeing her marvel at his design, he decided to trust her vision and let her do the entire iGo job on her own.

  ***

  Anxious during the time that she waited to return to the conference room, Tory sat down with her phone to check her messages while relaxing on the bed in her small suite. There were a couple from her mother, even though she had just spoken to her the previous evening.

  Before Tory could call her back, the phone vibrated in her hands. When she saw Jude’s face and name appear on the screen, she didn’t know what to do. It was as if something reached out from her childhood all of a sudden, even she was no longer a child.

  “Hello,” she answered, with fake calm.

  “Hey, Tory,” Jude said, in a rush of excitement. “So glad to hear you, your voice, I mean. I hope you don’t get near anybody with that bat disease. Can you believe it? Chinese bats! It’s insanity. They think the virus jumped from the bats to another species and then to humans. Jumping virus, Tory! From bats. They say it was a wet market. I don't know what that means, but were they selling bats?”

  “I don’t really know what’s going on. Rumors are flying. They say that one isn’t true. I don't think we will ever really know what’s going on in the world today. My father used to say they shot Kennedy on TV in front of the whole nation and we still don’t actually know what happened.”

  “Yeah, your old man’s a trip, anyway, I was talking to your mom and she says you’re in quarantine with that hotshot scumbag, Harlem Dawes,” he remarked.

  “Harlan. And he’s not a scumbag,”

  “Right, Harlem Dawes. I’ve seen him with a shit ton of skanky supermodels. He’s just another old guy, who’ll jump on anything hot and you know it,” he countered, “Do your Social Distancing even further than normal with that one, Tory, please. And what do you wear over there, anyway?”

  “I have to get back to the design studio. They are letting the contest winners, who are here in quarantine, work in the design studio. We are revamping the iGo App’s Icon,” she told him brightly.

  “Wow, that is big, Tory. I wanna come see you. We need a celebration in all this. There are dark days ahead. The death toll is rising, the stock market plummets. People are scared.”

  “I’m really trying to focus on the positive. I’m looking at this as an opportunity,” she told him. “Plus, we, um, broke up, remember?”

  She tried to say it gently because she didn’t want to upset him.

  “Yeah, yeah. But I have a feeling we can get back together if we can just see each other again. But whatever you do, just stay away from that Dawes guy. Don’t let him tempt you. Or like lead you into temptation,” he said, sounding as if he was quoting the Lord’s Prayer.

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about our parents. Don’t travel unnecessarily, like they say on the news,” she warned.

  “You know I love you, Tory. Ever since sixth grade. Even when you were taller than me,” he said.

  “Forget about those times, back when things were simple,” she said. “Things have gotten very, very complicated now.”

  “They sure have,” he agreed.

  Tory knew he was talking about the virus. But she was talking about how her entire life had changed ever since coming to New York. She wasn’t going to mention that to him, though. She just said goodbye, grateful to be getting off the phone.

  Chapter 15

  Dan sat in the conference room at the far end with Harlan when Tory walked back in. Immediately, Harlan waved her over.

  “Sorry, I was on the phone,” Tory began to explain.

  “Oh. No, you’re not late. I called Dan in a few minutes earlier,” Harlan told her, “I have a couple things. First. Mahira has bowed out. You’ll see her quarantining here but she’s off the iGo project. Next thing. Get it? ‘NextThing’? I love saying that again. It got old around here real quick,” he joked with them.

  Dan laughed loudly, as if relieved by Harlan’s levity.

  “The Gradient,” Harlan pronounced majestically, beaming at Tory. “We are going to run with this. And when I say we, I mean you, Ms. Stadler, ably assisted by Dan Ennick.”

  Tory’s smile delighted him so that when Dan stood up to shake his hand and thank him for the opportunity, he had no idea what had been said at all.

  Quite satisfied with the turn of events and his own handling of the situation, Harlan worked out enthusiastically and then soaked in the pool afterwards. Stresses falling away, he wanted Tory again more than ever and became aroused remembering the orgasmic plunder of the previous evening.

  Out of the pool, he started off toward the elevator but turned around and walked back to the picture window over the city, where he had found Tory, previously. Harlan walked up to the glass. He could still see her handprint. He raised his hand to it for a moment and had an idea.

  Tory had just showered when her phone beeped. She picked it up and saw the text was from Harlan.

  MEET ME IN THE LOBBY AT 9PM.

  Then there was a follow-up text.

  DRESS WARM.

  Excited but not certain what to expect, Tory put her jeans on again and zipped her light blue suede jacket over a sweater.

  In the lobby, Harlan walked up to her in his leather cafe racer’s jacket with a pair of helmets.

  “You want to go out,” Tory remarked, not sure how good of an idea that was right now, during the pandemic.

  “I want to show you my social distancing machine,” he said with a grin.

  Harlan took her to a door in the elevator bay that led to the garage. His matte black Ducati motorcycle purred in its kickstand, reverberating wildly in the empty garage. As he swung his leg over it and sat down, Tory straddled the warm cycle and was thrilled by the vibration.

  Upon the rumble and roar of the cycle, she held him by the waist, and they flew over empty lengths of highway, the city an amazing blur. Light and alien emptiness. Her hands carefully explored Harlan’s body as the cycle roared between her legs. In that moment, she knew what she wanted exactly from life, and she knew where she wanted it to start.

  The cycle glided over a bridge into Queens County, giving Tory a view of the river, and into the windows of nice bright Midtown properties. In Long Island City, they paused to take in the view before riding back into Manhattan.

  Wrapping herself around him more fully, him holding him tighter, she closed her eyes and lived in the pure sensation of their closeness, the movement of air and growl of the engine.

  Alone in her thoughts, her mind spun fantasies she had never dared to allow it. It had seemed that truly opening the door to her sexuality had brought on a boldness of thought as well. The iGo Icon was child's play in comparison to her work, which, more often than not, appeared in dimensions larger than a thumbnail.

  Mahira was right when she said Harlan had turned their resumes into gold, she thought. For the first time in her life, she envisioned herself in parts of the world far from the cheese state: London, Vancouver, Tokyo.

  She opened her eyes and became firmly grounded in the present moment. Passing streets that had already become familiar, they turned, and Harlan steered them down the ramp into the garage.

  In the elevator, Harlan pressed the button for his floor, then gently took off Tory’s helmet and looked at her eyes, which were full of delight and mystery. He smiled at her as he removed his own helmet.

  “I don't know another way to say this. And I don’t think I’d like to say this another way,” Harlan said just above a whisper, “I want you. All the time.”

  “I feel the same way,” she confessed, also in a whisper.

  The elevator opened to his lounge. Harlan stepped down first and walked over to his Smart T
V and put his phone in the stand atop.

  “Music,” Harlan prompted. “No Pussyfooting, Eno and Fripp.”

  As the spacey synth and guitar composition bloomed from the speakers, Tory began to slowly walk down the four steps, looking out upon the city lights while taking her suede jacket off.

  Seeing her there above the room on the second step, Harlan threw his own jacket off, and rushed to her before she could take another step. He buried his face in her crotch, his hands roughly squeezing her bouncy ass.

  He searched for her scent through the fabric. She trembled slightly, feeling the frenzy in his fingers as he struggled briefly with the snap and peeled the tight jeans over her thighs once again. Suddenly she found herself over Harlan’s shoulder, her jeans coiled at her ankles, one hand of his running the smooth length of her thighs while the fingers of the other were rubbing their way beneath her thong.

  Down the two remaining steps, Harlan put her down, her back on the sofa. She looked at him as he stripped out of his pants. His huge erection popped up and out of his briefs as he kicked them away, the muscles of his arms and shoulders in bold relief under the cool white glow of the skyline.

  As he lifted her ankles above her head, Tory moaned, and Harlan pushed his fingers into her mouth. He pulled them out and kissed her hard while slowly curling his saliva moistened fingers in and out of the swelling folds of her pussy.

  Harlan pulled her sweater up over her head and let the fabric hold her wrists above her out of the way. Then he freed her breasts and started to firmly rub her nipples in turn between his thumb and forefinger.

  Tory’s breathing became ragged gasps as she’d rhythmically begun to push herself up, offering him more. Unable to control himself further, Harlan took hold of her legs just below the knee and drove himself as deeply into Tory as he could, bearing down on her with his full weight as they kissed and kissed.

  He began thrusting, faster, harder, then faster still, pinning her to a spot in the universe that was his over and over. Her moans drove him on. When she’d started to hotly beg “fuck me,” Harlan had to fight his own orgasm in order to bear hers.

  “Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “I love your hot, curvy body. I love when you cum for me. You’re amazing.”

  When she came, Harlan held her tightly before pulling away and ejaculating all over her face and breasts. He freed her from the knotty twists of fabric that were her clothes and she stretched out. They spooned as the city outside was a quiet twinkling specter with the occasional siren calling out in the distance.

  Tory couldn’t help but add something else to her wildest fantasies: the image of Harlan always by her side, and inside her, no matter where she might end up going in this big, beautiful world.

  ***

  Mahira jumped in the pool and lapped it once before settling near Tory. She had abandoned the white one piece for a navy blue bikini, similar to the black one she’d given Tory a week ago.

  “So where have you been keeping yourself? I knocked on your door a couple nights ago but there was no answer,” Mahira asked, grinning slyly at her.

  “I think you know enough to guess,” Tory told her.

  Mahira laughed.

  “I truly underestimated you, Victoria,” Mahira admitted.

  “I think I truly underestimated myself too. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” Mahira said, and Tory knew that despite her understandable misgivings, she meant it.

  They hugged in the water.

  “You’ll get your fifteen minutes of fame,” Mahira chimed at her.

  “iGo is big. We are not. We’re unsung heroes of the digital age. We didn’t design the app; we just designed the design that helps people find the app,” Tory protested.

  “The industry will know of you,” Mahira insisted. “And that means something.”

  Tory couldn’t help but hope she was right. Just as she hoped that whatever was happening between Harlan and her was the beginning of something long-term, rather than just a temporary fling.

  ***

  As US cities announced plans for reopening in stages, the stock market made a slight recovery. Back in her loose-fitting dark pantsuit, Tory paced waiting for Ms. Kalinski to knock at her door.

  When she finally saw Ms. Kalinski and her familiar quirkiness, Tory was put at ease. She had started to feel like a part of the NextThing.Net family over the course of the quarantine.

  When Harlan introduced her to the CEOs of iGo, they were thrilled and impressed with both Tory and the work. When one of them commented on the genius in presenting their brand colors in a gradient, she caught Harlan looking at her proudly and it warmed her heart.

  As press from other online design magazines snapped photos of her alone, as well as with Harlan, Tory felt certain that everything she’d decided for herself was absolutely right, but she still had no idea how to tell her parents about Harlan. It almost seemed that people would be less judgmental if Harlan were not older and wealthy.

  A hard working older man only seemed to be respected more than a well to do man in this one area of life. The middle aged auto mechanic always seemed like a much more faithful mate than any man who had slept with supermodels, even if both of them had had quite wild pasts but were ready to settle down.

  Plus, Tory wasn’t sure Harlan was ready to settle down. Sure, he had said he wanted her always, but maybe that’s what he told all the girls he slept with.

  It definitely felt as if there was something special between them. But Tory felt too inexperienced to trust her feelings. She decided to wait for more definite assurances from Harlan before taking the chance of telling her family about them.

  The news of Tory’s work at the NextThing.Net studio traveled fast. Her phone was flooded with calls from past clients who had new work and new clients who wanted work fast, and her head was spinning. When in the midst of all of these calls she saw Jude Coleman’s name and face on her phone, she cringed.

  “Hello,” he said dismally. “I see you’re acquainted with Harlem Dawes. Sit on his lap yet?”

  “What?”

  “You know what I mean,” he insisted. “I saw the write-ups about you and there were lots of pictures with you and him together.”

  “Of course there are. He’s in charge of the entire business. He’s the reason I got the award and the internship. Anyway, this is really none of your business,” Tory defended herself.

  “I want to come get you, take you back home before there’s nothing left of you for me,” Jude ranted. “These are dangerous times. I feel this thing taking you away from me, Victoria, and you’re getting sucked in. I saw the pictures. You won a contest and now they are taking advantage of you. That’s what rich people do. You just need to come back home and do it with me. Life, I mean. Life. Good clean living back in ol’ Madison.”

  “Listen, Jude. I don't really know what I want right now. We’re not even together, remember? I’ve had offers just this morning from all over the country. The kind of jobs I’ve dreamt of my whole life, Jude. Don’t you want that for me?” she asked, becoming frustrated with him.

  “I just want you to come back to me. We had made plans. Together. Plans for being together!” he blurted out loudly, causing her to move the phone away from her face.

  “That was in the past. It’s over. I have to go. Harlan is waiting,” she said, knowing she’d probably gone too far in vengeance.

  And she cringed as Jude’s screaming became unintelligible. She imagined him standing on his back porch, smashing his phone on the worn wood and stomping it to pieces.

  In only his swimsuit, Harlan was running on an elliptical machine facing the big screen TV in the gym as he glanced occasionally at stock market figures scrolling across it a few yards away. The shotgun-like clacking of Ms. Kalinski’s heels thundered in the corridor. She marched in with a big tablet under her arm.

  “Good afternoon, Meyerwitz is here to see you,” she said, curtly.

  Harlan slowed and stepped off the
machine smoothly.

  “You know I let Ms. Stadler work in my office. Where is he? He can come and sit down here,” he said, reaching for a towel.

  “I am here,” a small voice said, making Harlan freeze.

  Ms. Kaminski unfolded a stand from the tablet's drop proof case and stood in on a bench press nearby. On the screen, Barry Meyerwitz, one of Harlan’s attorneys, smiled at him.

  “What do you think?” he asked from the tablet.

  Harlan chuckled a moment.

  ‘OK, thank you, Jillian,” Harlan said, still amused by Meyerwitz.

  “You couldn't Zoom or Skype? Call me, maybe?” Harlan asked.

  ‘It’s important. I wanted to be here.”

  “But, but it’s no different,” Harlan scoffed.

  “Listen. Who’s the lawyer?”

  “You.”

  “I prefer confidentiality in my work. You could totally record a Skype session. No one would know. I talk to you on my own unit, and the content is mine,” the attorney explained.

  “This quarantine has turned you into a looney toon.”

  “Can we get down to business? Something has come up. I don't like it. I don’t even think I like talking about it.”

  “What?” Harlan asked, truly curious.

  “The girl.”

  “The girl?”

  “There’s a guy,” Meyerwitz told him.

  “I thought it's about a girl?”

  “A guy and your girl.”

  “Ah, okay, my girl. Who is actually a woman. And what guy?” Harlan asked.

  “Some kid from Wisconsin who joined an Incel Activist Group. He claims you’re to blame.”

  “What?” Harlan yelped. “In-cels? The involuntarily celibate?”

  “Right. He says that you lured young women with a contest, that they are trapped with you while you take advantage of them sexually and make them work for free while your key staff quarantine with their family.”

  “What? No, none of that is accurate.”