I’ll be honest, I never thought of it that way. Yes, I missed Blake. We’d been buddies in high school and then gone to college together. But when everything happened with Emily, I hadn’t thought much about who I’d be leaving behind. I’d just wanted out of the US as fast as possible, and I’d spent the first year digesting the enormity of Emily’s lie. As well as beating myself up for being duped.
“Hey, look, I-I don’t know what to say except I’m back now, and we can grab a beer any time you want.”
Blake stares at me for a beat before letting out a huff of laughter. “You’re a moron. You know that, right?”
A smile edges my mouth. “Well, according to you I am.”
His expression sobers. “You never got over her, did you?”
“It doesn’t look that way.” I’m honest enough to acknowledge it to him and myself.
He nods, continuing to stare at me. “I don’t get it. What’s so great about her? I get that she’s gorgeous. I mean I’d probably hit on her if I didn’t know who she was.” His smirk says he’s trying to get under my skin.
It works. “Not if you like where your nose is on your face.”
Blake laughs and rubs his jaw. “Seriously, is it the sex?”
“No, it’s not the goddamned sex. I mean, the sex is awesome. The best. But that’s not all it is. She’s sweet and smart, and I just like being around her, talking to her.” I smile. “Not talking to her. Have you ever been with someone who is just easy to be with? She makes me feel good. Being with her makes me happy. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Oh, I think you’ve explained it well enough. You’re in love with her, which means I better get with the program or I’m going to lose my best friend.”
In love? I can’t help but shy away from the term. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, I definitely would.”
“What about you? Anything happening with what’s her name? Is she going to take you back?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
His brow creases. “Nadine?”
“The one whose friend you shagged,” I supply. “God, how many women are you juggling?”
His expression clears. “Oh, Angie. No, we’re done. That was doomed from the moment I found out she was friends with Madison, I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Talk about awkward. “Are you seeing anyone now? Weren’t you on a date tonight?” I’m sure that’s what he told me.
He sighs and lowers himself back onto his bed. “It wasn’t exactly a date. Madison wanted to talk about Angie. She wants me to give her another chance.”
I take a step closer to his bed. “Wait, the friend who you had sex with? The one who talked crap about you to your girl wants you to get back together with her?”
Blake gives a shrug, looking no less confused than I am. “She said she was wrong to badmouth me. She said she shouldn’t have said anything.”
I nod as if I understand. I don’t. “What did you say?”
“I told her no. Angie and I are done.” He glances away. “I was losing interest anyway.”
“And what did she say to that?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I don’t get his mood. As he said, the situation was a powder keg waiting to go off.
He lowers his gaze and mutters, “She doesn’t believe I lost her phone number.”
“Madison?”
“Yes, Madison,” he snaps, his gaze darting up to mine.
And at that moment, everything starts to make sense. “Holy shit, you’re hung up on her. How did I not see that?” I muse.
Blake glares at me but doesn’t deny it.
I scratch the back of my head. “I guess you can’t ask her out.” Talk about complicated.
He gives me his fiercest no shit look.
“How close are they? Are they best friends?”
“Best friends since elementary school,” he grumbles. It’s obvious he’s thought things through.
My next breath leaves my mouth in a whistle. “I don’t know what to tell you, except I’m sure you’ll meet someone else.” A trite sentiment which I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate. But what else can I say?
He emits a dry laugh. “I thought the same about you and look how that turned out.”
“Are you comparing my relationship with Emily with your one-night stand?” I’m pretty sure there’s an insult in there somewhere.
He shakes his head as if righting his senses. “You know what, don’t mind me. I have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about. Madison was great in bed but out of it she’s bitchy on her good days.”
If that’s what he needs to believe, I’m all for it, but I know my best friend, and Madison has gotten under his skin. Too bad things turned out the way they did. I wouldn’t have minded meeting the woman who has my friend sitting home moping on a Saturday night.
“Emily has a friend. She’s blonde and has that whole Anna Nicole Smith thing going for her. You want me to set you up?” Emily told me Kelsey’s not dating anyone. Said she just broke up with some bloke.
Blake performs an exaggerated eye roll. “That’s okay. I think I can manage to find a date on my own.”
“Your loss.”
“About Emily…”
I raise my brows.
“Tell her next time you bring her by, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
I smile faintly. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
The next thing I know, I’m dodging the pillow he throws at my head.
Chapter 31
Halloween is a big deal at Zenith’s. Apparently, John goes all out for it. The decorations arrived yesterday, the boxes stacked in his office.
Tonight was pretty busy for a weekday, and I’m ready to call it a night. Emily and I have been texting back and forth. She’s working on a project for one of her marketing classes and I have an early class tomorrow morning, which means I really need to catch some Zs tonight.
The vibration of my mobile has me digging it out of my pocket. Emily’s beautiful face lights up the screen. It’s a picture I took of her a few weeks ago in front of an enormous elm tree at Rosedale Park.
I answer immediately. “Hey.”
“Do you feel like coming over tonight?”
At the sound of her soft voice, thoughts of sleep fade away. We haven’t seen each other in two days and the thought of fucking her until her eyes roll to the back of her head is making my dick twitch.
“If I manage to get out of this place in the next half hour, I’ll come over.”
Due to their respective schedules, her flatmates tend to be away during the week more than Blake so we’ve gotten into a habit of spending nights like this at her place.
She lets out a happy sigh. “Okay, then I won’t keep you. See you soon.” She hangs up without giving me a chance to respond. I debate calling her back with a request that she wear her black-and-white knicker and bra set.
Nah, let her surprise me, I decide as I grin and shove the phone back in my pocket.
“Sandy, have Jason check your till. Graham, I need to see you in my office.” John’s voice is brusque and his expression is serious enough for me to wonder what the fuck is up.
I raise an eyebrow in question but all he does is turn on his heel and make his way to the back.
Okay, that was weird. I’m uneasy as I follow him down the hall and into his office.
Brow furrowed, he takes a seat behind his desk and stares at the computer screen in front of him. “Take a seat,” he says tersely, sending me a quick glance.
I edge toward the chair in front of his desk. “What’s up?”
His gaze lifts to mine in an unwavering stare. Okay, now he’s freaking me out. He doesn’t say anything until I’m seated. “I need to ask you something and all I’m asking is that you tell me the truth.”
Oh shit. The pit of dread in my stomach becomes a black hole.
I blink and swallow the lump in my throat. It goes down
hard.
“Were you ever charged with statutory rape?”
And just like that, I’m living my worst nightmare. Words are impossible. Seriously, I’ve lost the ability to speak. But time is my enemy and the longer I remain silent, the worse things are for me when the only acceptable response is no.
Correction. It’s hell no.
“The charges were dropped,” I blurt out. It’s not what he asked but it’s the truth.
John shifts in his seat. “Was that because you didn’t do it?”
How do I respond to that? Yes, I did it but she told me she was nineteen? The prosecutor said that didn’t clear me. If it did, every guy—and girl—could use that as their defense in every statutory rape case. To the courts, the truth doesn’t matter. Not in situations like these.
I rub the back of my neck as I struggle to find the right words to explain myself. “I thought she was older.”
John briefly closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Shit,” he mutters, bowing his head and rubbing his eyes.
“Who told you?”
“I don’t know. It was in an email that came in about an hour ago.”
My heart drops with a thud.
“You don’t know who sent it?”
“No. It came from an email address I don’t recognize. Charlie Brown something or other,” he grumbles, waving his hand dismissively.
Fuck.
Emily’s brother. It has to be. He saw me and he knows I’m seeing his sister. Or maybe it’s her father. This is the definitely the kind of shit he’d pull. Either way, it’s gotta be someone in that family.
“John, I promise you, I don’t mess around with underage girls. It’s not me and it’s never been me.”
He slumps back in his chair, his expression morose. “Graham, that’s not the point. Even if I believed you, I’ve got a business to run and shit like this could take me down with you. If people find out that I’ve employed a guy who has a statutory rape charge in his past…” His voice trails off because no more needs to be said. We both know what would happen.
I nod. “Right, I get it. I’m bad for business and you have to let me go.”
“Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do right now. Everything is just hitting me. I need to think it over.”
How the fuck is this my life?
This is what you get for getting involved with her again.
Yeah, but this is not her fault.
Face it, the girl comes with baggage heavy enough to bury you.
Fuck off.
With that, I turn my attention back to John.
“Do you believe me?” I ask because I’m not sure he does.
“I trust my nephew’s judgement, and he’s vouched for you. And I think I’m a pretty good judge of character myself and the charges don’t square with the guy I’ve come to know. So yeah, I believe you, but you know it’s not as simple as that.”
“I understand, and I hate that you’ve been put in this position.”
“You and me both,” he says dejectedly.
I’m wearing my easy access robe. One pull of the belt and voila, Graham will feast his eyes on his favorite lingerie set: the black-and-white one with the red bows at the hips and front clasp of my bra. My freshly-washed hair smells of jasmine and my skin carries the scent of the strawberry-vanilla lotion he loves.
I pad from the bathroom to the kitchen to get my cell phone. It’s sitting on the counter where I left it after I’d spoken to him fifteen minutes ago. A glance at it reveals I haven’t missed any texts or calls from Graham. Since I have time to kill, I plop down on the kitchen bar stool and open my email.
The latest email is junk. Thank you very much, but I don’t need a safe and natural penis enhancer. I scan the list of my most recent emails until I get to one whose subject line jumps out at me. It simply states Graham Prescott.
What the hell?
My heart skips a beat as I swiftly tap the screen to open it.
Dear Mr. Walker,
I’m writing to inform you that you have a rapist working for you. Four years ago, Graham Prescott was charged with statutory rape. If you don’t believe me check with Richard Spalding, the New York County district attorney. I know you’ll do the right thing.
Sincerely Yours,
A Concerned Citizen
Stunned beyond belief, I frantically read the email again, unwilling to believe what’s plain as day in front of me. My breath is soon coming in panicked gulps. The sender’s email address is [email protected]. It’s obviously a fake one to mask the real sender’s identity. But worse than that is the email address I see in the recipient field, the one John uses for work.
I slap my hand over my mouth, muffle a cry and try not to hyperventilate.
Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod!
Whoever sent this to me also sent it to my boss. Graham’s boss. And whoever did it must know me, how else would they have my personal email address.
My dad.
I take a deep breath in an attempt to slow the thundering of my heart and tamp down my mounting panic. It doesn’t work. I begin to nibble on my thumb, a habit I’d grown out of in elementary school.
What am I going to do?
I have to talk to John first. Explain everything to him before he says anything to Graham.
I gulp. Unless it’s too late. I quickly check the time of the email and note it came in an hour and a half earlier. I pray to God John hasn’t seen it, and if he has, I pray he hasn’t said anything to Graham about it yet.
My finger is literally shaking when I pull up my favorites and press Graham’s name. Call me spoiled, but I’m used to him answering right away no matter what he’s doing. By the fourth ring, I’m convinced he’s not going to pick up.
“Hey.” The gruffness of his greeting catches me by surprise. I’d been seconds away from hanging up.
“Hi,” I reply, endeavoring to sound my usual self. “How’s closing going? Will you be able to get out of there in time to come over?”
“Yeah, about that. I can’t see me getting out of here for another hour, if not longer. And it’s probably for the best because we both have class early tomorrow.”
True, but sometimes not even that stops us.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a nice back rub?” I tease.
He gives a short laugh. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass. Tonight was crazy busy and I’m beat.”
He does sound tired. Yesterday, he’d worked until five, then he’d had two evening classes and hadn’t gotten home until after nine. Expecting him to come by after work is me being greedy and asking for too much.
“No worries. We’ll get together another night.”
“Right. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night, Em.”
After the call disconnects, the worst of my panic dissipates. There’s no way John spoke to him about the email. Graham would have said something. Which means I may just have the time I need to set things right.
“Hi, John, do you have a minute?”
Sitting at his desk, John looks up from the computer to where I’m standing at the doorway of his office. I skipped my eleven o’clock class to be here when he got in.
My question is met with a strained smile. “Sure, come in.”
I enter and close the door behind me. His eyebrows shoot up at that, and then his expression turns quizzical as if he’s only now registering my presence and the time. “You’re not scheduled to work this early, are you?”
“No,” I reply, my hands clasped tightly in front of me. To say I’m nervous is putting it mildly.
Reclining back in his chair, he regards me. “What can I do for you?”
No matter how many times I rehearsed what I’m going to say, the words come out in a breathless rush. “I got an email last night and I saw it was also addressed to you. I was wondering if you got it? It was from a Charlie Brown Gmail address.” Ther
e’s no relief once the word vomit ends, just anxiety and despair.
John eyes sharpen with interest. “An email about Graham?” he asks softly.
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes. “It was about you, wasn’t it?”
Gripped by a terror I’m sadly too familiar with, I nod. “You haven’t said anything to Graham about it, have you?” Crossing my fingers won’t help but I do it anyway. It can’t hurt.
Instead of answering me, he motions to the chair in front of his desk and instructs, “Sit down before you fall.”
I immediately obey, dropping into the seat, my body taut and tension filled.
“Do you know who sent the email?” he asks in a measured voice.
“I think so,” I reply, gripping the arms of the chair. It’s my dad. After the threat he issued the other night, he’s the only person I know capable of something like this.
“And are you going to tell me who it is?” John asks, his eyebrow quirked.
“I’d really rather not—if you don’t mind. But,” I rush on to add, “I promise you, this person won’t bother you anymore.”
“You can promise me that?”
“If I quit, this person won’t have a reason to contact you again.”
John’s expression is sympathetic as he leans forward and steeples his fingers.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
I take a deep breath before beginning. “When I first met Graham, I told him I was nineteen.”
I’ve only told the story twice before and it hasn’t gotten easier the third time. John isn’t April or Kelsey so it’s actually harder, but with halting speech and a pained expression, I manage to get it all out before I run out of courage and steam.
John continues to stare at me when I fall silent. Wait for it, the judgment’s coming.
“That certainly explains a few things.”
I manage the difficult task of swallowing. “So you see why this whole thing is all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken the job here in the first place.”
Forever With You Page 28