Catch My Breath

by Lynn Montagano

  "You're awful." Alastair squeezed my waist, pausing to think. "Grace dressed me up as girl once. I was four. She told my mum and dad she'd rather have a sister. They went right along with it. Called me Allison for days."

  "You have got to be kidding me. That's hilarious." I burst into a fit a giggles.

  "I've never told anyone that before. Thanks for being so sensitive.”

  "Did she put a little wig on you?"

  Alastair narrowed his eyes, a salacious grin curling his lips. "You’re on thin ice."

  Grabbing at my waist, he tickled me fast and hard. I shrieked, but made no real effort to stop him. If anything, I wanted to draw this side out of him even more. Catching me off guard, he grabbed my hips and flipped me back on the couch so he could sit on my legs.

  Leaning in for a quick kiss, he whispered, “Thank you.”

  Climbing off me, he offered a hand to help me sit up.

  “You must miss them terribly.” I cringed at my own stupidity for saying that out loud.

  “I try not to dwell.” The muscles in his jaw twitched. I felt awful for making him talk about it.

  “I’m sorry.“

  “Don’t be. It’s different talking about this with you. I just…” He paused, wetting his lips. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

  I took that to mean he was finished with the heart to heart.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me,” I said, folding the picture and handing it back to him. Once it was securely tucked in his wallet, he enveloped me in a warm embrace. We sank into the cushions, arms and legs entangled. I focused on the softness of his hair, running my fingers through it. So much had happened since last night. Alastair hugged me tighter, sending sparks shooting through me.

  You make me feel too much. It hurts.

  Was this what he meant? Did he not allow himself to properly grieve over the loss of his family? I wanted to know everything. I wanted to crawl inside his mind and watch the movies of his past. The man who sat next to me was more than the aggressive, cool-as-ice guy who pursued me relentlessly in Glasgow. He was broken. Damaged. But so was I. My own insecurities were too deeply engraved for me to ignore. The outer shell I wore wasn’t as fortified as Alastair’s. He’d strengthened it over decades. Mine was new, a badge I’d earned from two years of being told that I wasn’t living up to someone else’s idea of what a ‘real’ woman should be.

  Two years of trying to see the light in someone who embraced the dark. Two years of being a possession, an object to control and manipulate. In relationships, I was weak. Alastair needed someone strong.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The first text message came during the middle of Monday afternoon’s editorial meeting. I grabbed my phone, turning off the sound. Bruce didn’t mind if we always had our phones attached at the hip, he just preferred the volume to be turned off during a meeting. By the time I got back to my desk, I had notifications for six new texts.

  Feeling uneasy, I looked at the messages. Most of them were from Stephanie. Breathing out a relieved sigh, I responded to her. She wanted to have a girls’ night, complete with Chinese take out and bad reality television. We hadn’t done that in a long time, so I told her to be at my place for eight. Alastair was tied up with meetings and conference calls until late and told me he’d stop by later. I’d given him the extra key to my apartment and left his name at the guard’s gate.

  The other two texts were from Dayna, just to say hi and fill me in on her new promotion at the magazine.

  I couldn’t shake the weird feeling all those notifications gave me. I hadn’t been bombarded with texts like that since the week before I left for Glasgow. Those had all been from Nathan, telling me how much he missed me and wanted me back. He’d been suspiciously quiet since Saturday’s incident. I assumed he would have called or texted or shown up unannounced to be a jerk about it.

  Maybe he’s finally moved on and cares less about what I do in my spare time.

  I shivered.

  The remainder of the afternoon flew by. A steady stream of good stories kept the newsroom humming. Days like this were rare, so we took advantage of as many of them as we could. About half an hour before the show went live, Vance walked over and plopped himself down on the corner of my desk. My phone beeped. Another text from Stephanie.

  4:27pm PS - I sent my portfolio to Darren’s company. Eek!

  “Message from a secret admirer?”

  I looked up at Vance, nearly blinded by his ultra-whitened teeth.

  “Nope. Girl talk.” I grinned.

  He nodded, holding up two ties. “Which one?”

  “Uh…” They’re both hideous. “I thought you were going to wear that chocolate brown suit?”

  “I was,” he complained, “until Jeanie told Cynthia to wear orange.”

  “Orange?” I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, you mean that burnt orange suit she just bought. Yeah, I can see why don’t want to wear brown.”

  “I may not know much about clothes, but I do know I don’t want to look like a Halloween display in the middle of May.”

  I laughed and helped Vance pick something that wouldn’t clash too horribly with Cynthia’s outfit. In the end, we decided on charcoal gray. It probably wouldn’t win us any points in the world of high fashion, but for local television news, it was going to have to do.

  The broadcast was a good one, chock full of informative and interesting stories. Vance and Cynthia were in rare form, cracking jokes and engaging in effortless banter when appropriate. Everyone usually dragged on a Monday, but I left the newsroom feeling great about the start of the new week.

  Dropping the mail on the kitchen table, I tried to tidy up the apartment before Stephanie got here. It wasn’t huge by anyone's standards, but it was cozy. The high ceilings helped make it appear open and airy.

  Stephanie arrived with the food, excited and flushed about her new job prospect.

  “I can’t believe I sent them my portfolio,” she squeaked, scooping out a hefty serving of lo mein.

  “This is so exciting. Did you send it to that girl, Cassie?”

  She nodded. “She gave me her business card at the cocktail party. We’ve been in touch ever since. She sounded really serious about my going back out there for a formal interview.”

  “Do you already have one set up?” I took a bite from an egg roll.

  “No. Cassie said she’d email me as soon as she showed the department head my work. I’m dying. I mean, look, my palms are sweating.”

  I reached over and felt her hands. “Ew. Yep. They’re clammy and gross,” I teased.

  “Argh, Lia,” she exclaimed. “This is life changing. What if they want me? I can’t leave Orlando.”

  Dropping my chopsticks, I leaned back in the chair. “Stephanie Ann Tempe, stop talking shit. You can and you will leave Orlando, especially if you’re offered your dream job.” She blinked at me. “Oh my God, it’s only Scotland. It’s not like you’d be shipping off to Antarctica. And what about Darren? He must be over the moon about all this.”

  “I talked to him at least thirty times today. He’s so excited. He said he’ll clean out the spare room at his townhouse so I’ll have a place to stay.”

  “See? You already have a built in support system. It’s perfect.” I popped the rest of the egg roll in my mouth and grinned. My phone beeped. Assuming it was Alastair, I checked it.

  8:33pm Still need to settle our unfinished business.

  Jesus. I stopped chewing to prevent the egg roll from lodging in my throat. I deleted the message, stabbing at the touch screen to make sure it disappeared forever.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, nudging the food on her plate.

  I finished chewing. “Nothing.”

  “You’re doing it again,” she stated. “That was Nathan, wasn’t it?”

  The food didn’t taste good anymore. A piece of shredded cabbage got stuck between my teeth, aggravating the situation. I swished wine around in my mouth to free it.

 
“Lia, I’m not going to pry or anything, but I’m worried.”

  My temper flared. “Worried about what?”

  “I think you’re keeping something from me about him.”

  She was so blunt I almost dropped the glass. My stomach knotted. “What would I possibly be keeping from you?”

  “I don’t know,” she sighed. “It’s just a feeling I get every time something like this happens. You clam up. I mean, you brushed me off the other night when I asked you about the gala.”

  “I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.” Tension billowed through the room, stifling the atmosphere.

  “Okay, okay, fine.” She put her hands up in retreat. I slumped my shoulders, guilt washing over me. She’d been there for me during my darkest hours, a fierce ally and steadfast force to help me climb out of a never-ending abyss of despair. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to repay her for all she’s done.

  “Hey,” she brightened. “How about we veg out and watch some ridiculously bad television.”

  We cleared the table and spread out on the couch to watch the best of the worst reality shows we could find. The two of us loved insanely stupid programming, so we spent a good chunk of the next couple hours mocking the shows. By the time eleven rolled around I could barely keep my eyes open. I said my goodnights and hugged Stephanie goodbye. I changed into some pajamas and crawled under the covers. I was out like a light within seconds.

  The mattress dipped slightly, waking me up. Terror froze me for a second before I realized who it was curling up next to me. In an instant I was securely wrapped in a pair of toned arms. Alastair’s body was warm against my back, a comforting sensation that I happily snuggled into.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled, rolling over to face him.

  “Late. Go back to sleep,” he answered in a low, husky whisper.

  I peeked over his shoulder at the clock on my nightstand. Two in the morning? Why even bother coming here at this hour? I listened to his steady breathing, not wanting to bug him with questions, but my curiosity was insatiable as usual.

  “I hope you weren’t working this whole time.”

  Silence. Is he asleep already? Impossible. I couldn’t even hear him breathing anymore. Shrugging off my suspicions, I nestled into the pillow.

  * * *

  He was too close. His body was too strong. Angry words flew out at me but I couldn’t avoid their wrath. I was immobile, pinned against the wall again. A shadowy figure loomed in front of me, shouting and ranting in soundless bursts. I wasn’t going to let it happen this time. I was going to get away. Plaster cracked and shattered next to me. Bits of white dust circled my head like a sinister crown. I’d lost again. I’d never win…

  I shivered, opening an eye. Next to me, sleeping peacefully on his back, was Alastair. Shivering again, I watched his chest rise and fall with each measured, deep breath. I was always so cold when I had that dream, even with the blankets swaddled around me. Deciding to be proactive in my sleepy state, I snuggled against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His body heat definitely helped.

  “Hmm,” he hummed, shifting on the mattress. I didn’t want to wake him, so I remained still, listening to the low, sexy grunts he made in slumber. How ironic that I was the one waking up thanks to a bad dream.

  “Are you alright, Lia?” His question was encased in a deep, gravelly tone from sleep. My cheek warmed when his fingers brushed against it. “You’re safe with me, you know that.”

  Confused by his concern, I slid my hand across the soft cotton t-shirt he wore, resting it on his stomach. Sighing, he leaned his head on mine. I listened as his breathing became heavy and deep before closing my eyes.

  * * *

  “I’m driving you to work today.”

  I stopped smearing cream cheese on my bagel and stared at Alastair. He strode into the living room, smoothing down his tie. The suits this man owns were ridiculous. Today’s ensemble was a navy blue three-piece Burberry. I fought an urge to peel it off him with my teeth.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “It seems like a nice thing to do.”

  I finished with the cream cheese and bit into the bagel, never taking my eyes off him.

  “Stop looking so suspicious,” he grinned. “I have plans for us tonight right after work. It’s just easier if I drive you and pick you up.”

  “You do realize that I don’t get out until seven, right?”

  Nodding, he slid into his jacket, completing his stunning ensemble. Abandoning the half-eaten bagel, I gathered my things and walked with him out the door. A Mercedes SUV was parked next to my car. His driver, Paxton, kept a watchful eye as we walked toward him. I was annoyed, but greeted him pleasantly. He smiled and opened the passenger door.

  “Good morning, Miss Meyers.”

  “Hi, Paxton. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Especially since I gave the guard Alastair’s name and not yours…

  “Official business,” he stated.

  Alastair slid into the car next to me, folding his tall frame gracefully into the leather seat. Not saying a word, he grabbed his cell phone. Brows creasing in frustration, he tapped against the screen, either writing an email or a text. I rolled my eyes and watched as the city came to life. Orlando had its own ebb and flow; not nearly as chaotic and frantic as New York, but certainly not calm.

  Since I normally drove myself, I never took the time to observe the morning rhythm. Tourists moved at a snail’s pace, but didn’t slow the practiced stream of businessmen and women merging onto the sidewalks. Quite the opposite was taking place in the backseat. Alastair didn’t utter one word the entire time. When the car stopped in front of my building I was more than happy to get out.

  “Thanks, Paxton.”

  I walked with purpose toward the entrance. Just as I was about to open the door, Alastair gripped my elbow and pulled me aside. I snapped my arm away.

  “Let go of me,” I hissed.

  “Hey, whoa,” he ceded. “I’m sorry. You walked off so quickly.”

  “Yeah, well, you were engrossed in your phone.” I folded my arms.

  “I had to take care of a few things,” he said, his eyes hardening. “Make sure you meet me here at seven.”

  Oh no, no, no. He will not take that tone with me.

  “You,” I poked him in the chest, “are not my master and commander. I will come out when I’m done, and not a minute before. If you don’t like it, I’ll call a cab.”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed. Something was going on and I didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark.

  “What’s the real reason you wanted to drive me to work?” I glared at him.

  “I told you,” he answered calmly, “I’m taking you out tonight and it’s easier.”

  Veiled eyes darted across my face. My temper flared.

  “Why is Paxton here and how did he get into my complex?”

  Alastair stiffened. I’d hit a nerve.

  “I’m here on company business. He’s my driver and personal security detail.”

  “So how did he get into my complex this morning if I left your name at the gate?” I was livid.

  Remaining still as a statue, Alastair stared me down. “He gave my name when he dropped me off last night, that way he’d be able to get back in this morning. We can fix all that later if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Red flags shot up in unison as we stared at one another. He’s hiding something. My instincts were on high alert, petrified at the vast unknown path I was navigating.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

  “That wasn’t my intention,” his expression softened. He twisted my ponytail through his fingers. “Don’t be upset. Please.”

  Broken shards of distant memories tried to cut into my current reality, taunting me. I knew, on some level, Alastair wasn’t stalking me, but it was all too familiar. The wounds were still too fresh.

  “Lia,” he breathed, cocking his head to the side. “You’re overthinking again.”


  I bristled slightly, catching a glimpse of his little grin. “So what if I am?”

  The corners of his mouth curved as he leaned in for a kiss. Ugh, I’d become that girl; easily distracted by a grin and a kiss. My insides liquefied, leaving me at the mercy of his lips. It didn’t even register that we were still standing on a sidewalk in front of a building teeming with professionals on their way to work. I grabbed his tie, holding him close. He slanted his head, deepening the kiss. The world around us disappeared.

  “Have a good day, kitten.”

  “Thanks, chief,” I called after him.

  The morning flew by. We were fast approaching the final week of sweeps, which meant the lure of vacation days and time off was strong. Sydney plopped on the corner of my desk a little after one, chattering away about her daughter’s upcoming birthday party.

  “Are you still baking those cupcakes? Violet has been pestering me all week,” she said.

  “Of course.”

  “Oh! I wanted to ask you what gym you used. Ray’s on a health kick and wants to start lifting weights or something.”

  “I’m a member at Pure Fit, but haven’t been in a couple months.” I tapped the pen on my desk. “Is he just looking for general workout stuff or a personal trainer?”

  “General workout stuff for now. Who knows, maybe I’ll sign him up for some sessions with a trainer,” she grinned.

  “Pure Fit is perfect then.”

  A shrill ringing interrupted us. I looked at my cell phone.

  “Hey, Steph.”

  “Your picture is all over the internet,” she blurted out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Son of a bitch. I opened the web browser and searched the local gossip columns and society pages. Lo and behold, there I was, sucking face with Alastair in front of this very building. Someone had been all too eager to whip out their smart phone and snap away.

  “Thanks, Steph.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, you guys look hot.”

  “Not what I was going for, but thanks.”

  Sydney eyeballed me as I placed the phone down with a thud. I started a mental countdown to when the entire newsroom would find out. My best guess was five minutes.