by Adair Rymer
I'd read online that he recently took over as CEO for his parents' company. I was stunned by how far he'd come if he felt up for the monstrous amount of stress that came with that position.
As painful as it was, us being apart was a good thing. Neither of us could afford to be distracted right now.
It wasn't just the subways that felt cold and lonely these last few agonizing weeks since I'd last seen Maynard, it was the whole city. Maynard was my guide. He exposed me to so much of its hidden beauty. Rooftop gardens, unbelievable restaurants, private shows, exclusive parties, Maynard seemed to know everything that happened here.
I guess none of it was truly hidden, but it might as well have been to a broke college girl without any friends. I was no one important so all of that was closed off to me now.
All those events were wonderful, but the thing I missed most was his company. Maynard was as fun as everyone imagined, but he was also a smart and surprisingly attentive. He picked up on even my offhand comments. He also seemed to remember everything we talked about.
I mentioned I loved fireworks and the night after new years he somehow found a place that was setting them off. Although he never said it, I was pretty sure he called in a favor from someone just to make me smile. They were beautiful, but having him with me while I saw them was what made the experience magical.
My time with him was filled with brilliant color like a shimmering soap bubble caught in the light. A pit formed in my stomach with the understanding that I was the one who went and popped that delicate soap bubble. Every step toward my apartment, lugging my school supplies, seemed to echo that I made the wrong decision.
At least my grades had gotten better. I made up the work I had missed and was back on track to graduate in a few months with honors. That was the most important thing to me and to my parents these past few years.
So why did that feel like it wasn't enough anymore?
Things had also gotten better at work too. Bianca had fired Brenda after uncovering several complaints that she made her employees and interns work on holidays. Bianca was colder than a snowman but I found myself liking her more and more each time I had seen her. She was ruthless, but everything she did was for the greater good. You'd never know it if you weren't really looking, but Bianca was constantly looking out for those who needed help.
Both the Cooper siblings had good hearts, but they refused to show them for fear of getting hurt again. My time with Maynard seemed to soften his prickly exterior and open him up a little more. I could only hope that someday the same would happen to Bianca.
I had reached the outer door to my apartment building and lingered with a heavy hand on the door-knob. Maynard had far more depth than the world cared to know. He wasn't the two-dimensional caricature that television and the internet made him out to be.
But six months was an eternity to a man who could go anywhere and do anything, or anyone. I wasn't naïve, I understood that women fell at his feet. It was wrong to ask him to wait for me when I was the one to end things.
It didn't make the pain of loss any less though...
Why couldn't I have met Maynard after I graduated?
The heavy door was abruptly shoved open. The doorknob and my hand were smashed into my boob. The blow pushed me off the stoop and onto one of the three short steps below.
“Ow!” I grabbed the railing to keep the inertia of my heavy bag from toppling me and held an arm over my chest.
“Oh! I'm sorry!” My rushing downstairs neighbor cried out, letting the bicycle she was pushing fall away so that she could catch me if I fell backward. All I could see of her face was the tip of her nose and two shocked light brown eyes. She peeled down her face mask to be heard more easily. She felt terrible for the accident, it was written all over her face. “Are you alright, Claire?”
My thick winter jacket and the layers I wore beneath that padded the impact enough so that it hadn't hurt too badly. It was mostly the surprise that made me yelp.
“I'm ok, Jonas.” I rubbed the slight sting from my chest. “That's why God gave us two, right?”
“I hope not!” She laughed nervously, looking me over to make sure I wasn't hurt. “I am super sorry and will totally make it up to you, I promise.”
I think Jonas was her last name but that was how she introduced herself when I met her several months ago. She had a stocky frame and was twice as bundled up as I was. She was also crazy for biking year-round like this. She seemed nice enough but I barely ever saw her. She worked like, nine different part-time jobs.
“Don't worry about it.” I waved a hand at her. It wasn't a big deal, in fact it was kind of nice to just be talking with someone.
“I'm surprised to see you out here.” Jonas adjusted her backpack, then clarified when she saw confusion on my face. “I just figured you'd be upstairs with your boyfriend. I saw him come in a little earlier when I grabbed my mail. I think it was him. We don't get many visitors dressed in expensive suits.”
Maynard? He was here? My face lit up and my whole body started to glow. I didn't care what I said earlier about not seeing him. I might regret it later but he was exactly what I wanted right now.
“Oh shit!” Jonas grimaced, embarrassedly. “I hope I didn't ruin some surprise.”
“No!” I lied. “I gotta go. Take care out there,” I waved her goodbye as I carefully stepped over her bike then fast walked to the stairs. I wanted to break into a run, but suppressed the urge. Suddenly it was Christmas morning and I had a pile of presents waiting to be unwrapped.
I took the steps two at a time and was nearing breathlessness as I reached my landing. Thoughts and emotions whirled around me like a hurricane. Why was he here? Why had he decided to come back now? Had something happened?
I didn't care about what I said in the letter, I could do both! I would find a way to focus on my schoolwork and also see him. Maybe we could spend the weekends together, that could work! More than anything I just wanted to see him. These weeks without him have been horrible. I needed to feel his arms wrapped around me.
Above all I wanted to apologize for leaving like I did. He deserved better than that.
“Hello? Maynard?” My door was unlocked when I pushed it open, which made sense because I'd given him a key. I set my bag down beside the doors and kicked off my wet boots. “I didn't see your DeLorean outside, but I'm really glad you're here! I'm so sorry about how I left things.”
I didn't see him right away because of my weird half hallway that prevented the studio from being one open room, save the bathroom. Maynard hadn't turned the lights on yet, so hard shadows spiked across the floor from the setting sun. This time of day always made my tiny apartment feel so ominous.
I froze when I rounded the corner.
“No apologies necessary. It was a nice surprise to see you—” The dark form casually laying on my bed wasn't Maynard. It was all my fears stuffed in one expensive suit. “With your clothes on for a change.”
Anthony looked up at me, smiling.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” I blurted out one of my many questions.
“I spoke with your landlord and had my locksmith come by. I figured you might not let me in otherwise.”
“You figured right, asshole. Leave. Now.” The words didn't come out nearly as strongly as I wanted them too, but the stubbornness my parents taught me had shown through my fear, regardless.
“What on earth is this hideous abomination?” Anthony ignored me, distastefully dangling Angry Cat by one of his plushy legs.
“I'll call the police,” I fished my phone out of my pocket with a shaking hand.
“Girlfriend of billionaire CEO caught in an affair, arguing with old lover.” Anthony tossed Angry Cat against the wall. “That headline would do wonders for Maynard's new saintly image.”
“That's bullshit.” The fear drained from me. All that was left was anger. “I would never do anything with you!”
“And you think the media gives a shit about what's true?�
� Anthony shrugged, dismissively. He plucked a pair of my panties off the floor as he stood up. “I couldn't remember which sleazy fuckpit I saw you in originally. Of course no one would give out your personal information when I asked so I bought three strip clubs just to validate my hunch.”
Oh, God. This was my worst fear come to life. I was going to throw up.
“I wasn't sure it was you when you showed up at my office on Maynard's arm.” Anthony brought my panties to his nose and sniffed deeply, then moaned in delight. “But now I'm positive. You're a hard girl to forget, Star.”
I cringed at hearing my old stage name.
My would-be-roommate bailed on me last minute when I arrived in New York to start college. I needed to come up with the full first, last, and security before the end of the week or I wouldn't have anywhere to live. I slept in the school's library while I desperately looked for work, but I couldn't find anything that could get me the money I needed.
In my darkest moment, worried that I'd have to drop out of college, I became an exotic dancer. This one mistake has hung over my head like a dark cloud, threatening to rain at the worst times. Anthony was one of my regulars, but I didn't know who he was at the time. Now he was a lightning bolt that threatened to burn my whole life down.
“What do you want?” I asked at length.
“I can't pay my favorite stripper a visit?” Anthony's grin widened as he stepped toward me. “I heard a rumor that you had split on Maynard. I wanted to make sure you hadn't lost your nerve and run back to the white knight.”
“What the hell do you care?” I backed up until I hit the edge of the sink. I frantically reached a hand behind me for a weapon just in case, but the only thing in the sink was the remnants of a bowl of cereal from this morning.
“You're a bad influence, you know that? I don't know what kind of magical cunt you have.” Anthony was only inches away. He grabbed the pull tab on my jeans zipper and tugged. “But Maynard has changed too much since meeting you and I want my old friend back.”
I stabbed a teaspoon into the back of his hand before he could unzip me fully. He recoiled, cursing, then flared his pale blue eyes at me. He pried the sad weapon from my hands and pinned me to the cabinets with a hand to my throat.
In a strange way, I've dreamt about something similar to this. I would come home and find Maynard waiting for me, he'd push me up against the wall and we'd make love. With a similar build, eye and hair color, Anthony a was parody of Maynard. It was a terrifying perversion of one of my favorite fantasies.
“A lap dance for old times' sake?” Anthony's lips parted in a twistedly amused grin. I groped across the counter behind me as I flailed against him, trying to keep him away. Several potentially useful items slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. “What do you say?”
It didn't feel like he was trying to kill me but his other intentions were plain as day. I would die before I let him touch me like that. For as cold as my parents' lessons had been growing up they did teach me to take care of myself in all ways.
I finally wrapped my hand around my coffeepot and smashed it against the side of Anthony's face. Bleeding and cursing, Anthony released me and staggered backward.
“Go to hell.” I coughed out the words while rubbing my neck. I was no one's victim.
“Okay,” he said, laughing. He blotted the small gash above his eyebrow with a handkerchief he carried in his pocket. “That's enough foreplay. You've got more balls than your boyfriend has these days.”
Foreplay? Did he think this was some kind of game? What kind of delusional psychopath would think that this was alright?
“Maynard is going to fucking kill you when I—”
“Ah ah ah.” He interrupted, sliding a flash drive out of his coat's breast pocket. “You're not going to tell him shit.” Anthony held the portable memory stick up tauntingly, then dropped it on the floor. “You wouldn't want the golden boy finding out about this.”
“What's on that?” What the hell could he possibly have that would make me not immediately call Maynard or even the cops for that matter?
“Play it and find out. There are obvious perks that come with owning a strip club, like sampling the buffet of talent. Sometimes, though, you get extra lucky.” Anthony grabbed his hat off the table and made for the exit. He turned back to look at me right as he opened the door.
“Oh, and let me know if you want more copies.” He winked. The motion made my skin crawl. “I can make tons of them.”
Then Anthony was gone.
I ran to the door and locked it. Then, remembering how he got in, I realized that wouldn't be enough. I slid the one wooden chair I had up against the doorknob locking it in place. He'd have to break the door to get back in. Feeling a little more secure, I slumped against my wall and started to cry.
I didn't want to be here anymore, but there wasn't anywhere I could go. I didn't have any friends I could spend the night at and I couldn't afford to fly back home. I needed someone I could trust.
I wanted Maynard.
A short while later when I finally stopped shaking, I opened the flash drive's files on my laptop. There were pictures of me, dozens of them. There were even some videos. I never did any more than the absolute minimum, but to see it again after so many years spent trying to block it out was mortifying.
Someone at the club had secretly recorded me stripping and doing lap dances. It was probably one of the skeezy owners. I worked there for less than a month when I was eighteen but things quickly got too intense. There were fights and rampant drug use all around me. I finally broke down and pleaded for help from my family when I couldn't take it anymore. My parents were furious at what I'd done, but they agreed to help.
Let me know if you want more copies. I can make tons of them. His words were thunderous in my head, reverberating like I had just left a rock concert. The implications were crystal clear: Stay away from Maynard or I show everyone, including Maynard, these pictures and videos.
My fingers shook as I hovered over Maynard's number. I should call him, explain everything and tell him I'm sorry. I may not have known him long, but we'd already been through so much together and I felt like I knew him well.
He would understand, wouldn't he?
Even if Maynard did forgive me for everything, Anthony would show the world my mistake. Could I really do that to Maynard? He had just started to do the right thing and look after his family's business. It would be terrible for his company if compromising pictures of his girlfriend showed up in the media.
It wasn't just about Maynard either, I didn't want that kind of negative attention. It was so hard for me to make friends as it was, and knowing that anybody I met might have already seen me naked made me feel ill.
I couldn't bear seeing Maynard's face on my phone if he tried to reach out to me again. I blocked his number, then drained the rest of the cheap bottle of vodka I had by my bed and immediately started crying again. I had never felt more hideously alone.
Anthony hadn't touched me sexually but I still felt like I had just been raped.
Chapter 9
Maynard
“I feel compelled to warn you, Sir. This route is extremely inefficient if you plan on arriving to your meeting on time,” Christian spoke over the limo's intercom system.
They can wait. This was more important.
I shook my head at his protest and absently thanked him as I scanned the streets for Claire's puffy winter jacket. She had never returned any of my calls or texts. It'd been two months since I spoke with her.
Christian didn't approve of my detour. It tacked on an extra forty minutes each day but it was the only path that took me by Claire's apartment. Driving by her place was the only part of my day that I looked forward to anymore. Christian slowly drove us by. I'd never seen her, but that never stopped me from coming.
This was my pilgrimage and Claire was my patron saint.
We slowed down about a block past her apartment. Christian saw her before I did.
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Claire's overstuffed winter jacket bobbed down the street, bristling against the cold. She was walking to the subway. As much as I wanted to, I knew that I couldn't pick her up, she was very clear on that in the letter. It was a hard lesson but she had shown me that life wasn't always about what I wanted.
God, it was so good to see her again, even if it was from behind the tinted window of a limo. I put a hand to the glass as we pulled up next to her. Claire brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. Seeing her made my insides melt. I could take her in my arms and be kissing her in seconds.
Every fiber in my body demanded that I open that door, she should be in here with me.
I prayed for a purse-snatcher or just some aggressive asshole to try something with her. I was close enough that I could step in and save her before anyone laid a hand on her. It was a messed up thing to hope for, but at least then I would have a real reason to talk to her.
I had us follow her to the subway to make sure she made it alright. She turned back as if someone had called her name, but just for a moment. It was enough for me to see a glimpse of her button nose and soft rosy cheeks. My heart swelled and ached, then just as quickly she disappeared down the stairs into the subway.
“Sir?” Christian's voice chimed in over the intercom.
I sighed. We were double parked, we couldn't linger any longer here. I was frustrated and seriously missing her. Why wouldn't she let me see her even if just on the weekends? I'd have given anything to go to her.
“Go ahead.”
“Very good, Sir.” Christian pulled us out into traffic that was already slowing for rush hour. He was right. We'd never make it in time for that meeting now, I'd have to join remotely. I waited while my laptop quickly booted up.
All the trivial pursuits that I used to find fun didn't do anything for me anymore. I hadn't even been in my Lamborghini since the night I met Claire's parents. I stopped driving it because it reminded me too much of Claire. Every time I drove her around in it she would warn me about hitting eighty-eight miles an hour and make other bad Back To The Future jokes.