Picked

by Jettie Woodruff

  “That’s what intrigued me. You’re supposed to come here and talk to people, get to know people around the globe, maybe find true love.”

  “Humph, yeah, okay. Whatever.”

  “You haven’t talked to anyone here but me. You blow every guy off that tries to talk to you. Why? What are you doing here, Cass?”

  Jesus. Has this guy been stalking me all long? “Is that your real voice?”

  “Oh my god. Can you keep your mind focused for one minute?” beer guy asked with an attitude. What the hell? Who the hell did he think he was?

  “Why don’t you answer my questions? I’m a paying customer. Who are you?”

  “Maybe you should read the fine print.”

  “The fine print of what?” I asked to myself. I saw the microphone blink, letting me know that he left.

  Puzzled and feeling the exhaustion take over, I gave up. I’d find out later. I needed to sleep. My dad’s raised voice wasn’t the most pleasant sound first thing in the morning. I struggled enough trying to keep up without adding fatigue to the equation.

  I tried to save and log off. It wouldn’t let me. A shiny silver mirror with a pink handle popped up with a warning. “Read the fine print?” I asked the empty room. Snowball had fallen asleep and stopped paying attention to me hours ago. What the hell? It wouldn’t even let me close it out. Not even when I tried ctrl, alt, delete. I could drop it down and get to my other programs, but it wouldn’t go away.

  Spending another twenty minutes trying to get the stupid thing to go away, I failed. No matter what I did, I was stuck in the extravagant room, and it wouldn’t leave my computer. I shut it down, thinking I’d check after a couple hours of sleep. At least if my computer were hacked, no one could get into anything else.

  Chapter 5

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I bounced up and down, holding my big toe. I couldn’t oversleep. I hadn’t been one of the guys for a week yet. This was going to look great on my rookie badge. Trying to find something clean to wear in the mess I called my room, I tossed clothes, looking for something that smelled fresh. Pulling on a pair of khakis and a red button up shirt, I grabbed my laptop, not having the time to see if the game was still there or not. I’d be stuck in traffic, I could do my hair and makeup in the car, I decided, rushing out the door.

  Making it a quarter mile from the office, my car slowed to a crawl, allowing me the needed time to make myself presentable. I wasn’t going to hide the puffiness and dark circles around my eyes, no matter how much makeup I used. Applying my makeup, I thought about the game and beer guy. Nothing made sense to me. I didn’t understand why he was able to follow me after I figured out the code. No one else could, or didn’t anyway.

  Being a little late helped with the traffic and I was able to make it to the conference room halfway through the meeting. I stumbled when my father unexpectedly opened the door for me.

  “Sorry,” I offered, walking to my cold metal chair with my head down.

  He offered me his dirty look in exchange and continued to discuss Matt’s next move on his cheating spouse case.

  “What do you have, Cass?” my father asked. I wished he’d sit down. I knew he was pissed when he stood and paced above me.

  “I think Mr. Zimmer is really hurt. I got footage of him struggling to make it to his mailbox and back to his front door,” I explained, sure I’d just heard an exasperated sigh come from my dad.

  He moved on, moving around the table. The whole crew knew when he was in a mood. It was all business. Each agent gave their results and told him what he wanted to hear until he dismissed them. I tried to get away, too, but received a straight finger back to my chair when I fell in line.

  Jumping from the sound of a slamming door, I prepared myself for the tornado.

  “You think this is all fun and games, Cass?” he began.

  “No. I said I was sorry.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I got stuck in traffic,” I lied, bowing my head while trying to hide the evidence flushing my cheeks.

  His hand came down hard on the table in front of me. Knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of good to blow my top, too, I kept it together, wondering why I let him control my life. I was twenty-two. I had my own house, my own car, and I could find my own job. I didn’t need his approval anymore. And yet, I sought after it, hoping to please him.

  “We’re in the city. We were all stuck in traffic. Where were you?”

  “I overslept. I was up late working on the Zimmer case.” I looked straight at him this time. My face was still crimson from the last lie. He wouldn’t be able to tell which one I was blushing from. Smiling on the inside, I pulled it off. My dad studied me, nodding.

  “You’ve been working pretty hard on this case,” he suspected.

  “Yes. I have,” I continued with my straight-faced glare.

  “And you think this guy is really hurt, huh?”

  “Yes. I can show you the footage. I am one hundred percent sure.”

  Taking a deep breath, my father stood and slid three photos from a manila folder. I felt like the biggest failure on earth when I saw the photos of poor Mr. Zimmer. There was one of him shooting hoops in someone’s driveway with a couple of older men, and one of him diving off a diving board into a city pool. And then one with him working on a truck, laying underneath the engine on the ground. He didn’t look hurt at all.

  “Did you talk to a neighbor there?”

  “Where?” I feigned ignorance.

  “Cass, I’ve been conditioning you for this your entire life. I don’t get it.”

  Dropping my head, I disappointed my dad—again. I didn’t think the lady would say anything. I was just making small talk. “Am I off this case?”

  “The case is closed. I had Matt get what we needed. It’s out of our hands now. Are you in this or not, Cass? I need you on board.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. What else was I going to say?

  “Think of this life like an anagram solver. Nothing is what it seems, Cass. Nothing.”

  That was the moment. That second right there. My heart dropped to my stomach and I felt that surge of adrenaline speed through my veins. Anagram solver. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Oh my god! I couldn’t believe it.

  “I’m sorry Dad, you’re right. I’m going to do better. I have to go. I just remembered a dentist appointment,” I lied, gathering my closed case file. I brushed past him while he stared me with a blank and confused expression, and I ran out the door.

  “What’s up small fry?” Matt asked, stopping me by sticking his leg out, causing me to stop and lose my balance. Tripping, I skipped it out to keep from falling.

  “Ass,” I said with a glare.

  “You okay?”

  “Why? Do you all of a sudden care about my wellbeing?”

  “I’ve always cared about your wellbeing.”

  “What do you want?” I asked with a cocked hip and snarl. Matt was a dick to me. Always was. I knew he didn’t give a shit about my wellbeing or anything else. He just wanted me to stay out of his way and hopefully fail. He was just waiting for me to fall flat on my face. I was doing a good job at it so far without his help. I hadn’t made it a week and I already blew my first case.

  “You’re with me for the next couple weeks. Get your things. We gotta go.”

  “No. I’m not going where you go for the next couple weeks,” I protested with a peculiar glare. Seeing my dad walk toward us from across the room, I knew something was up. They were up to something.

  “I told you I would tell her,” my dad angrily spoke. “What the hell is wrong with you people? Everyone here has forgotten who runs this place.”

  “Calm down, Luke. We’re all here for the same thing. I’ll take her for a couple weeks, see if we can’t mold something out of this,” Matt replied, eyeing me from head to toe. He was making fun of me. That’s what he was doing. Prick.

  “Take the day off. You can come back fresh Monday morning,” my dad offered before turning and walkin
g away.

  “No. She doesn’t need the day off. Let’s go,” Matt ordered, standing.

  “I’m taking the day off. I have a dentist appointment,” I lied. “And besides. You’re not my boss anyway.”

  “I am for the next two weeks. Get your stuff. We’ll do the dentist appointment first.”

  Turning to my dad across the room for help, he shrugged both shoulders, opened his office door, and abandoned me. What the hell? Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention back to the smirk on Matt’s face. Shit. Shit. And triple shit. I was on a mission. I had something more important to do than ride around a car with prick-face-Matt.

  I should have stood up to him. Both of them. I was twenty-two. Why couldn’t I just tell them where to go? Grabbing my bag, I obediently followed Matt out.

  “What dentist?” he asked, holding the door.

  “I’m not going. Just take us wherever we’re going. I don’t want to be out all day, either.”

  “I’ll decide that.”

  I was so mad. I sat there with crossed arms, fuming, while Matt drove us through the city, rambling on and on about stepping up my game. I rolled my eyes when he volunteered to help me.

  “You may as well learn something, Cassie. It’s obvious you don’t have the balls to tell Daddy you don’t want to walk in his shoes.”

  “You don’t know what I want. You’ve never given me the time of day. Why now?”

  “Because you’re going to get yourself hurt, and your hard-headed father can’t see that. He’s been too busy living in the past to see what he’s done to you.”

  “What he’s done to me? How about you mind your own business. You don’t know anything.”

  “I know it all, Cass. I know why you’ve been superglued to your father’s side all these years. I know why you were sheltered from the rest of the world your entire life. Do you know, Cass? Do you remember what happened? How old were you? Six? Seven? Do you remember any of it?”

  “Fuck you. You don’t know shit.”

  “Shhh, shhh,” Matt said, sitting up straighter. “Lookie here. This, my dear Cass, is what we call luck.”

  “What?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “You see the taxi that just pulled out? Two cars ahead?” He nodded at a car ahead of us. “That, my friend, is Mr. Wheeler. The passenger, however, is NOT Mrs. Wheeler.”

  I spent the next hour hiding in a motel parking lot, listening to Matt explain the ropes. I wasn’t listening. I was too busy thinking about my new information. Unscrambling beer guy’s name in my head. I said each letter in my head. K.C.B.E.E.R. Becker. I was talking to him all along and didn’t even know it. Right from day one, and I was blowing it by being a bitch. What if he blew me off now? I’d be pissed at myself for a month. I was in direct contact with the maker.

  I hadn’t even noticed the cheating couple exiting the hotel, not until Matt started taking pictures again. The guy backed the girl against the closed door, kissed her and ran his hand up her short skirt.

  “Yes, that’s it. Make it easy for me. Rub that pussy—shit. Sorry, Cass.” Matt embarrassingly turned to me. I snickered like a teenage girl, hearing the word pussy for the first time. That word sounded funny coming from Matt.

  Looking at me with a big smile, Matt boasted, “And that’s how it’s done.”

  “Great. Can you take me to my car now?”

  “Hardly. I’ve got time to check out a new case. Let’s head down to the shore. Calimar Charters is bringing in some fake designer merchandise,” he explained, turning the car in the wrong direction.

  I was hot on Becker Cole’s ass. I didn’t give a shit about some fake sunglasses or designer handbags. I wanted to go home. Matt made me sit in a busy shipyard, waiting for a boat he didn’t know when was coming. I sat there all day.

  “I’m hungry. Can we go yet?” I whined, tired of listening to him give me pointers, looking at the same river all damn day. UGH.

  “We leave and the barge shows up, and we wasted an entire day for what? A couple hot dogs?”

  “I could go get it. You can wait here. I saw a food truck parked over that way,” I offered pointing in the direction of food. It wasn’t like he was letting me out of this boring car anyway. May as well let him feed me.

  “Okay, fine. See if they have coffee, too.”

  “It’s ninety degrees outside. You want coffee?”

  Tilting his head, he offered a grave look. “Do you really need an answer to that?”

  “No,” I decided, taking the twenty from his hand. It was a given. Every agent in the office drank coffee. Morning, noon, night, twenty degrees, a hundred degrees. It didn’t matter. I think it was like a PI law or something.

  Daydreaming about having a conversation with Becker, I strolled to the end of the line. He spoke to me. I heard his voice. He heard mine. As a woman in my profession, that wasn’t the smartest decision on my part. Then again, I didn’t know it was him. I thought he was some loser trying to pick me up. The fine print. I needed to read the fine print. He told me to read the fine print. Stupid Matt. I didn’t have time for this shit.

  Oh my god! I used my real name. My dad would be furious with me.

  I groaned, wanting out of Matt’s car. I hated this, always did. I used to hate sitting in my dad’s car when I was a little girl. Hours and hours was spent in that grease and coffee smelling automobile. He’d feed me junk food and buy me coloring books and dumb little games, trying to keep me occupied. Eventually, he bought me a DVD player and I watched movies until I’d fall asleep in the back seat. Those were the early days, when he stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for me to go pee. I couldn’t be out of his sight for two seconds.

  “You ordering food or what?” the man behind the cart asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” I spoke, being pulled from my daze.

  I struggled, walking back to the car with the food I loved to hate. I ate it too much growing up to have a real love for it. I was hungry though. I walked to Matt’s window and he took his spilling coffee.

  The boredom of listening to Matt’s mouth talk about the same things I’d heard from my father for years, mixed with adrenaline of getting home to see if my intuition was right, left for a very long day. We never did see the boat come in. What a wasted day.

  “You really could care less about this, huh, Cass?”

  “What?” I asked, trying to recollect what he’d just said.

  Matt took a frustrated breath. I couldn’t help it. I had other things brewing that held superiority over his imposter merchandise.

  “What do you want, Cassie?”

  “Stop calling me that. What do you mean? I want to go home. That’s what I want.”

  “Why? What are you going to do when you get there?”

  “Things. None of your business.” I pouted.

  “What would you do if you could do anything you wanted?”

  “I don’t know. What’s it to you?”

  “You don’t know because you’ve never been given a choice. Tell him you don’t want to do this. At least go back to filing and answering the phones.”

  “No way. I hated that. I hate that dingy, dark office.”

  “Exactly my point. This isn’t you. You’re too much like your mom to be a hard-ass.”

  “What do you know about my mother? You don’t know anything,” I accused, raising my voice. He didn’t. He had no right.

  “I know more than you know, Small Fry,” Matt assured me, starting his car. Thank god.

  I quietly contemplated what Matt was saying. What was he saying? He knows more than I know as in, he knows more about it than me, or was he simply saying he knows what everyone else knew? Glancing to his hand, Matt turned on the radio and gave me a warm smile. Damnit. I didn’t have time to investigate Matt. I had to investigate Becker Cole. Matt could wait.

  Chapter 6

  Thanks to spending the entire day with Matt, my house wasn’t going to get cleaned—again. I had to get logged into Picked. Becker
Cole was right there. Right where I could see and talk to him. I needed to make sure I didn’t ruin it. The fine print. Where the hell was the fine print?

  “Good evening,” I heard Becker’s voice come through the speakers.

  Shit. I had to pretend not to know. Let him think I was just some curious player who accidently made it to the nonexistent level.

  “I tried to read the fine print. I can’t find it,” I confessed. It wasn’t in my account, it wasn’t on the home page, and when I typed it in the search, there was nothing.

  “Yeah, I disabled it. I decided it wasn’t going to apply to you.”

  “Why? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Get dressed. I’m taking you out.”

  “For real or for fake?” I asked the silly question.

  Becker inconspicuously laughed. “For fake, for now, anyway. You might not fit my criteria.”

  “Criteria for what?” I asked, wondering if he was seeking me out for his next wife. I chuckled at the thought of sharing a man with three women. No female in their right mind could do that, not that I knew much about love, but I knew enough. That wasn’t something most women would overlook. I wouldn’t.

  “Never mind. Get dressed. Wear something sexy—white maybe. I’m thinking white will bring out the green in your eyes.

  “Yeah, okay,” I said.

  This guy was coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. He didn’t reply. He vanished when I opened the closet door in my extravagant suite. I laughed. One white dress dangled from a gold hanger. He was going to make sure I wore white. I spent more time getting ready in the game than I did in real life. I chose the only hairstyle option I had, or Becker chose it I should say. My brown locks were piled on top of my head with soft dangling curls around my face.

  I would have never worn a dress like that. It showed more cleavage than my self-conscious would ever allow. I looked hot. I looked damn hot for a cartoon.

  “Do you always take this long to get ready?”

  “Hey, you can’t come in my bathroom. What if I would have been naked,” I accused, seeing the oh-so-handsome Becker Cole standing before me in a dark suit, not quite black, charcoal gray, maybe. He was taller than my character by at least a head.