by Nikki Chase
“I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore.” I just want to end this conversation so I can enjoy what’s left of Piper in this apartment, even if it’s just her lingering scent.
“Everything. We’re talking about everything we should’ve been discussing this whole time,” Diana says. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad it sounds like your relationship with Piper is real. I have no idea what happened between the two of you, but you sound miserable. So maybe you care about her. Maybe you’re growing up, after all.”
“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”
“Alright. See you around, Rafe.”
“Yeah.” I hang up.
I rub both my palms over my face. What the fuck is going on with my life right now?
Piper
“Dad, is there something you’re not telling me?” I ask over the phone.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”
“No, sweetheart, I would never—”
“Credit cards.” I cut him off before he can finish his lie. I’ve heard enough lies lately to just listen to him tell me another one.
He goes quiet. I can still hear him breathing into the phone mic, though.
“It’s true, isn’t it? You signed up for credit cards under my name? How could you?”
I pause, waiting for an explanation. I was tossing and turning last night, wondering how I ended up with so many liars in my life.
Maybe it’s true what people say, that you end up with someone who’s a lot like your parent. Which means I’m screwed, because someone like Dad makes for a shitty partner.
I saw firsthand how much Mom hated what Dad did to her, hiding his bad alcohol habit from her and spending all his money—our money—on booze.
Sure, he loved her. He quit drinking when she was sick, and he stayed by her bedside at the hospital whenever he wasn’t working.
But it was too late to change my mind by then. I’d already decided to never get involved with men like Dad.
Love isn’t all you need. Sometimes, love isn’t enough.
After probably one solid minute of silence, Dad says, “Piper, sweetheart, I was so sad about your mom’s death, and so stressed out about all the bills, and I was weak. I’m so so—”
“Save it, Dad. I’ve heard enough.” I hang up on him.
Damn it!
I’m so angry I want to punch something. But if I throw my phone across the room, then I’d just be angry and phone-less, since I have no money to buy a replacement. And if I hit the wall, I might wake up Carly and George in the next room,.
They’ve already been so nice to me, picking me up yesterday and letting me sleep in the living room of their one-bedroom apartment indefinitely. I’d be homeless without them, so it’s probably not a good idea to bother them too much.
I grab the pillow, which smells like Carly’s favorite detergent, and I hit the sofa bed with it, over and over and over again. Finally, I run out of energy. My arms are sore, I’m panting, and my hair is a mess.
McClaw watches me from the other side of the room, looking at me suspiciously with his bright green eyes.
“Stop judging me,” I tell him.
It’s pretty bright here in the living room. The big sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony let in a lot of sunlight. It turns McClaw’s pupils into two vertical lines, making him look evil.
Still, when I call his name and lightly pat my own thighs, he comes over and curls up on my lap. “Sorry, McClaw,” I say as I run my palm over his soft orange fur.
I feel sorry for him, having to move around so much just because I’m so incompetent at adulting. I should be supporting myself, instead of being reliant on my best friend and my boyfriends.
I mean, literally, before Carly moved out, the plan was for me to move in with Mark, and then I discovered the cheating. On top of that, up until the fight with Raphael, I was supposed to live for free in his rental apartment.
It’s totally weak. And pathetic. I’m failing at life.
Still, it annoys me when Raphael treated me with pity whenever I mentioned my money troubles. Well, maybe it wasn’t so much the way he treated me, as much as the way he looked at me.
Maybe I’m reading too much into things. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway now. I shouldn’t care.
He’s a liar.
Everything between us has been based on lies. I don’t even know what’s real anymore, or if any of it was ever real.
Maybe I could’ve forgiven his initial lie to me if that was the only one he told, even if it was about cancer. We didn’t even know each other, after all.
But he even lies to his awesome family. So what chance do I have to get him to be honest with me?
After everything we’ve been through, after I gave him my virginity, I don’t even know why we had to pretend to be engaged in the first place.
How am I supposed to trust him?
It hurts, almost physically, when I think about Raphael—which is to say, all the time. It’s like there’s something wrapped really tightly around my chest, compressing my lungs and making it hard to breathe.
I miss him.
But I need to stay strong.
Raphael
I blink a few times.
My whole fucking body hurts.
I focus my eyes and remember where I am.
Piper’s apartment.
No, make that Piper’s empty apartment.
She’s no longer here, even though I spent the entire night wishing she’d come back. I even spent the whole night on the floor.
I prop myself up and stretch. Damn, I have to act my age sometimes. I’m not ancient, but this is no longer the age for me to be sleeping on the floor.
It hasn’t even accomplished anything.
Piper’s still not here, even though I’ve inhaled whatever scent she left behind to my satisfaction.
It’s sad, but I can’t even promise myself that I wouldn’t do this anymore, not even for the sake of my creaky almost-thirty body.
But at least I have a plan now.
Okay, “plan” may be an overstatement. It’s more like…a lead. I know what my next step is, but I have no idea if it will take me closer to Piper. It could turn out to be a dead end.
I get up and look down at my clothes.
I’m still wearing the same suit as yesterday, of course. Luckily, nobody at the office ever pays attention to whether men change their clothes every single day. That’s one of the many advantages of having to wear a business suit at work. I usually hate it, but today I couldn’t care less.
All I care about is finding Piper, and getting her to forgive me. Somehow.
I know my dad is in a meeting, so there’s no one in his office right now. This is my chance.
It would be safer for me to wait until tonight, when the whole office will be empty. But I can’t wait anymore. My blood rushes through my veins, urging me to do something, anything.
I’ve been restless all day. Hell, I’ve been restless since I found Piper’s empty apartment. Wait—actually, I haven’t been able to rest easy since the fight. Or the revelation that she met up with her ex-boyfriend.
Oh, fuck it. Admit it. Things have not been going well for a while.
The door opens without any noise, thanks to the army of people cleaning and maintaining the office. To Dad, every little thing sends a message to our clients, and he always puts his best foot forward.
Except for his desk. His desk is a disaster zone. I don’t know how I’m going to find the black folder there. It must’ve taken at least one entire tree’s worth of pulp to make all the paper on that desk.
Still, I have to try.
I close the door and approach the desk. I look at the documents on it, but I can’t find it just by sight. I check the tall stacks of paper, trying to move them as little as possible so Dad won’t even know I’m ever here.
And…bingo! There it is.<
br />
I’ve never been happier to see a folder before. It reminds me of the feeling I got when I was little and I found a painted egg behind the bushes on Easter.
I carefully lift the documents on top of the black folder and place them on an empty patch on the crowded desk.
I rest the folder on my left palm and flip it open, not even bothering to sit down. I’m too tense and nervous to take a seat. Dad could come in at any time, and I don’t know what I’m about to find in this folder.
I know Piper hates being spied on, and she loathes the fact that this PI report even exists. But it’s not like I’m conducting additional spying on her. I’m just checking the results of what has already been done.
I skip the photos this time and go straight to the actual written report.
Piper’s name, date of birth, place of birth…and blood type? Wow, this guy is thorough. He must’ve gone through her medical records as well.
Wait a second. The town where she grew up—Rockvale—that’s where the fraudulent credit cards were sent. So it could be someone she knows.
I have to check the whole address and compare it to the address from the credit card statements. Maybe I’ll find something interesting. I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the address.
The next section deals with her parents. Her mom is deceased…from breast cancer.
Shit.
I think I know what I did now.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dad’s standing at the doorframe, watching me. Damn that quiet door; I didn’t even hear anything. He doesn’t look angry, but I know from the way he’s staring that he’s not happy either.
I shrug. “You showed me this folder the other day and I barely took a look at it. I thought I’d see what all the fuss is about.”
“You have to resort to reading a PI report to learn more about your own fiancée?”
“I’m always curious about her. That’s a good thing, right?”
Dad lets out a big sigh and steps inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Step aside,” he says as he takes his seat and pulls the chair up to the desk.
I walk around the desk and sit on one of the guest chairs, with the folder in my hand.
“You really think I wouldn’t be able to tell that you touched my stuff?”
“Well, maybe I wasn’t trying to hide from you, Dad. Why do you have to assume the worst of me?”
“Okay, since I have you here, we should probably talk.” He points at me and makes a little circle with his index finger. “This attitude, it’s not going to fly.”
“I don’t know wh—”
“I’m not done yet,” Dad says, cutting me off. “You think you’re slick. You think you can get out of any problem just by saying anything that comes to your mind. Well, I’m going to do you a favor and tell you it’s not working.”
I stay quiet, knowing he’d just interrupt me again if I said anything.
I glance at the open folder in my hand—at least now I can take it with me, I guess.
“You know why it’s not working?” Dad asks in a way that tells me he’s not actually expecting any answer. “Because eventually people learn that you’re just spouting off nonsense and they stop believing anything you say. At that point, you’ve lost everything.”
“Have you been talking to Diana?” I ask.
“You know I talk to her every day. But no, I haven’t discussed this with her. So if she brought up the same thing, maybe it means you need to start listening, instead of coming up with the next witty thing to say.”
I bite my tongue. I was about to say something smart, but I don’t think Dad’s a receptive audience for my jokes right now.
“Listen, I know you’ve been hoping to get your old position back. To be honest, nothing would make me happier. Diana’s dealing with a completely different department, and Miranda’s just…” Dad makes a face, but he tries to stay diplomatic. He says, “She’s not very good at it.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“I suppose. She makes mistakes too often, but they’re small mistakes that we can easily fix.” He pauses to inhale deeply, like he’s about to really unload. “You, though, you can really do some serious damage.”
“How? The clients love working with me.”
“Yeah, but many of our biggest clients are too conservative to deal with your…indiscretions.”
“What are you referring to, exactly? My criminal history? I told you, it was a long time ago, I already paid for it, and it wasn’t even my fault. I can’t believe you’re still punishing me for it.”
“That’s not the only thing. You live this hedonistic life full of women and drugs, and it’s just… It doesn’t reflect well on the company.”
“I haven’t even done drugs since I got out,” I protest.
“I’m just not convinced that you’re ready.”
“You know what? I’ve been working really hard, but it’s still not enough for you. I give up.” I get up and head toward the door, the black folder in my hand.
“Rafe,” Dad says as I grab the door handle. “You were too young to remember it, but when I had the affair… We almost lost the bank. I just don’t want you to have to go through that.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.” I say before I walk out of his office.
It’s not that I don’t think he has a point. And it’s not that I’m not aware that I’m being unfair toward him. But I’ll just have to make it up to him some other time.
Right now, I can’t even think about work. I don’t have any space in my brain for anything other than Piper.
It surprises me, but I don’t care about getting my old position back, even though that has been my big goal ever since I got out of prison.
Right now, that doesn’t matter.
I don’t know when, but at some point, that stopped being my priority.
My priority is getting Piper back right now. It’s not that work is not important anymore. But now that things with Piper aren’t right, nothing can be right. So that’s where I have to spend my energy.
I have to get her back.
Raphael
Dumb fuck. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?
I didn’t have to sneak into Dad’s office or steal the folder. There’s no need to resort to espionage at all.
I’m at the Westfield Center now, doing what I should’ve been doing since the beginning.
My mind has been such a clusterfuck. I want to find Piper, but it didn’t even occur to me to search where I first saw her.
She works here, somewhere in this mall. Unfortunately, that’s all I know. Fortunately, I’m willing to spend all day, every day here if that’s what it takes to find her.
I don’t even care that this place gives me PTSD flashbacks of a childhood spent waiting endlessly outside changing rooms and carrying shopping bags for my mom, aunt, and cousin.
I’ve been combing through every store, checking everyone who looks remotely like Piper. Blonde ponytail, average height, sexy curves.
It reminds me a little bit of how I used to check out the salesgirls at the mall to pass the time. This time, though, there’s a lot more at stake.
It has nothing to do with fooling my family into thinking I have a fiancée anymore. I just need her back in my life. I’d do anything to make that happen.
A blonde with a ponytail smiles at me when I glance at her. She steps forward, holding out a tray of sample chocolates. I give her a nod and walk past her. Normally, I’d be all over those samples.
That’s right. I mean business.
It takes about three hours, but I finally find Piper, in a shoe store I’ve already passed once or twice—I don’t even know; I’ve lost count.
She’s working in a shoe store. I must not have seen her because she was bending down to put some products on the floor. Or maybe she has just gotten here for her shift.
Who cares? All that matters is she’s here.
But my steps get slower as soon as I see
her right in front of me. My stomach swirls with anxiety, and I feel like I’m about to be sick.
Stop being so fucking lame, I tell myself.
I’ve never been awkward around girls. It has always been easy for me to find someone to be with me.
But Piper’s different. She’s not just any girl.
So what if she’s still pissed off? So what if she tells me to leave her alone?
I can always come back another day and try again. I’ll try and try until I get her back. There is no other option.
Alright. I can do this.
As I enter the store, walking between stacks of shoe boxes as high as my waist, Piper is ringing up a customer at the counter.
“Can I help you?” A guy in his mid-twenties approaches me. Piper’s co-worker.
It’s crazy, but I get the urge to shove him against the display shoes lining the wall behind him. And his only fault is he gets to see my girl every day, while I have to suffer without her.
“Yeah,” I say, giving him a polite smile, despite the fact that I’m raging inside like a crazy caveman. “I want to buy every pair of men’s shoes in my size.”
The guy’s eyes grow wide. His eyebrows jump up so high I’m worried they might disappear into his hairline.
Yeah, he heard me. He stops for a second to look me up and down, lingering on the Rolex around my wrist and my designer Italian leather shoes.
“I’ll go to the back and get the shoes for you,” he says hurriedly, like he’s afraid I’d regain my senses and change my mind.
“Thank you.”
He takes two steps, stops in his tracks, and turn around. “Wait, what size are you?”
“Twelve.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
By the time he rushes behind the counter, Piper is done with her customer. He says something to her, and she turns to look at me.
The look on her face… I don’t even know what to call it. It’s like she can’t even decide how to feel about having me here.
Her doe eyes grow bigger like she’s surprised, then the corners of her lips start to curl up like she’s glad to see me, but then she scowls like she’s annoyed that I’m here.