#CATFISHED (The Empire Series Book 1)

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#CATFISHED (The Empire Series Book 1) Page 3

by Nicole Hite


  "Enough about me. What's going on with you and Cory? Still being a d-bag?" Ariel questioned as she shoved the dressed hot dog into her awaiting mouth. Inhaling her hot dog only made her think of her new neighbor, Owen. He had faultless lips, which she wanted to suck ever so lightly. She never had been a blowjob kind of girl, but Owen could definitely be the exception. She felt such a strong desire to please this complete stranger. Something that surprised even her.

  "Same ole' Cory, just a different day. He complains about everything and then some. He hates my hair one day, and then wants me to get colored contacts the other.

  When I give him an awkward look he always says, ‘just kidding.’ I don't even know why he apologizes for something he wishes was true. It perplexes me every time. I love him, but lately things are just..."

  "Off?" Ariel completed her sentence.

  "Yeah. He hardly ever stays over and when he does, he's distant. As if he'd rather be anywhere but with me."

  "Why do you stay with him then?" Ariel chugged down her diet Coke.

  "I question myself all the time. Is it possible to love someone so much that you would rather deal with the bullshit than to break up? Am I a complete moron?" Sam frowned at Ariel with glassy eyes.

  "Oh, no, honey. You may be a little loopy at times, but you are not a moron by any stretch of the imagination. You are completely in love with a man who has a hard time reciprocating that same amount of affection. You have such an overwhelming personality that it may over shadow the little things Cory does for you. It doesn't mean he doesn't love you. He's just a little closed off unlike you. You'll be fine in time."

  "Yeah, maybe you're right," Sam swiveled in her seat to splash Ariel with her dripping toes.

  "Hey! I was trying to be the voice of reason, and here you are kicking up water at me. What sense is that?"

  Just as Sam was about to reply, a ping came from Ariel's cell phone.

  "Great, it's probably Viv wanting to know where I am with the October piece. It's only been one day for crying out loud!" Ariel huffed as she swung her legs out of the cool fountain and planted them on the warm concrete.

  Pulling her smartphone from her handbag, Ariel almost dropped her phone in the fountain as she rocked around to propel the phone in Sam's face.

  "LOOK! It's him! It's Dean! He reached out to me!"

  Grabbing Ariel's phone, Sam unlocked the screen and accepted the friend request for her.

  "That way you can't change your mind or put it off," the two giggled like teens.

  "Shit, he left a comment on my post," Ari observed closer.

  Trying to take the phone back from Ariel,

  Sam was deprived of when she pulled back.

  “What the hell!"

  "I want to be the one reading it first,” Ariel spurned away in silence.

  "Well, what does it say? The suspense is killing me," Sam drew her feet out of the fountain swiftly as she swung around to sit side by side with Ariel.

  "It says, ‘Yes, definitely pleasant to see a fresh face in the group.’ Holy shit, look at all the replies Dean acquired just from that one remark."

  "Is that correct? Does that really say fifteen replies just in the last five minutes? These girls must be stalking him. Look, all the reactions are about how ’sweet’ and ‘wonderful’ he is for welcoming you. Not a single one of these posts directly mentions you," Sam chuckled.

  "Clearly my entrance holds zero importance compared to the limelight Dean gets."

  "That's due to the fact that you don't look like that," Sam pointed to Dean's picture. "Plus, you don't have a dick, sweetheart. Somehow I think that outweighs everything."

  "Yeah, thank God for that. I don't know what I would do with a penis. Probably jack off all day, or walk around naked just watching it flop around. Seems pretty legit if you ask me."

  "How are you going to answer?"

  "How about, I know your game, Fish!"

  "That would make for a pretty diminutive and mind-numbing article don't you think?" Sam gave her an inquisitive glare.

  "True. All I want to do is scream at him or her for that matter. Oh, God, what if it's a woman?" Ariel looked genuinely stunned herself.

  "Wow that would be weird; genius, but weird. This person undoubtedly has a low self esteem and just needs the attention from anyone and everyone," Sam crinkled her nose as she stood and grabbed her bag.

  "Well now I feel terrible. It's probably a homely chubby woman who only has her cats to keep her company. She probably sits at her computer and eats jars of icing to pass the time while she soaks in devotion. One too many daytime soap operas, if you ask me."

  "You know. You really do have an active imagination. No wonder you're a brilliant journalist."

  4

  "Rebel Without a Cause makes his move."

  Ariel had to have scrutinized Dean's comment at least fifty times as she returned to her office following lunch. The countless replies to his comment inundated her inbox. Dean was polite and responded to all remarks. No wonder the girls flocked toward him.

  The more Ariel thought about it, the more she started to question her stance toward his catfishing. The emotions she felt with a simple comment made her stomach flutter with butterflies. If she felt that way, all of these ladies must feel the same. What a breathtaking feeling.

  There was no question why these women were drawn to him like bees to honey. He made them feel desired. Wanted. Appreciated. What woman wouldn't want that?

  The butterflies were only momentary as her stomach churned at the task ahead of her. In some small way, she sympathized with Dean. Was he really a corrupt man? And now what? She had to out him in a national magazine for being sweet to these women?

  Ariel's head swirled with sensations from yearning to compassion and even empathy. Before she knew it, she was headed over to the wastebasket, upchucking her lunch into the trash.

  "Ari...," a nauseated Vivienne whispered as she burst into her office. "Are you sick? Jesus, Ari. Go the fuck home. No one, particularly me, wants to get whatever you have. Viv stood in the doorframe covering her mouth with her notepad as if that would protect her if there really were an epidemic on the rise.

  "I...," Ariel began, but was quickly cut off.

  "No. Go. NOW!" Viv squawked.

  Without another word Viv fled from her office. If she knew that was all she had to do to get Viv off her back, she would be yakking away every day. With the combination of the warm weather, sluggish hot dog, and pressure from the article, perhaps it was a good idea to get out of there.

  Before she packed up her messenger bag entirely, she buzzed Sam to see if she could catch a ride home from someone else.

  "What's up, ‘Heidi’? How's the research going?"

  "Not great actually. I'm not feeling so hot and Viv is insisting I leave work. She thinks I have Ebola or some other crazy disease," she stated as she wiped the perspiration from her brow. "It may give me some down time to research without having her breathing down my neck."

  "Are you pregnant?" Sam jokingly asked.

  "One would need to have sex in order to get..."

  "HA! See, you never get laid," Sam interrupted in a burst of excitement.

  "I should have seen that one coming."

  "Yep. You kind of walked into it."

  "You think you can hook a ride home with someone?" Ariel probed as she slung her bag across her chest.

  "I'll give Cory a call and see if his sorry ass can give me a ride home. Don't worry. Go home and get some rest." Sam truly sounded sad as she hung up the phone. Whether it was the fact that she had to snag a ride, or call Cory for a ride; she wasn't sure.

  Ariel had never liked Cory. He was a sleaze ball to the extreme. Deep down, she and Sam knew he wasn't right for Sami, but if she had a downfall, it was her unwavering dedication to someone she loved.

  She should have seen the warning signs from the beginning when they first met. Sam was seeing someone at the time, Christof, who was in a cover band. Her tolerance le
vel for Christof's bullshit had hit an all time low when she saw him seducing a girl right in front of her. She had lovingly gone to a bar to support his band, however, the night ended coldly with a slap to the face and a ticked off Sam.

  She stormed out of the bar only to be antagonized in the parking lot by Cory. He was unyielding in his pursuit and I suppose that's why Sam was drawn to him so quickly. Clearly seeing her distressed, he presumed kissing her would remedy the situation. It had barely been five minutes since the entire bar had seen her chop-suey Christof's ass, before Cory had moved in.

  Ever since that day, she has been head over heels for this kid. She knows he's a nasty boyfriend, and yet, she still puts up with his shit. Even her older sister, Bridget, can't stand him and they are exceptionally close. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger she thought.

  Climbing into the Mini, Ariel rolled the windows down to take in the warm air. As she drove home, she allowed the breeze to lick her skin, bringing a strange calmness to her. She no longer felt ill, which was a relief considering she needed to begin her obligation at hand.

  Ariel pulled into her usual space at the apartment, making her way into the building. She was engrossed with her feet when the elevator chimed alerting her to her level. Stepping off the elevator, she bounced off a hard body tossing her into the wall. Her messenger bag flew in slow motion as it came crashing down on the wooden hallway floor.

  Lying in a heap of parts was her laptop. Luckily her tablet had not suffered dearly, but she still mourned the demise of her beloved attachment. Ariel crawled on her knees, picking up the laptop and cradling the contents in her hands.

  Bending down beside her was heaven himself – Owen.

  "We need to stop meeting like this. One more time and I will assume you are doing it on purpose. I like subtle, but you don't have to injure me in the process."

  "Owen!" she squealed.

  "That's my name. Me, Owen, you, Ariel. I thought we had that chat this morning?" he winked at her as he gave her a smirk to end all smirks.

  Owen was beautiful, all the way down to his dimples, which he tried to conceal behind his scruff. There was no hiding from Ariel though. She saw them as if a beacon had been sent out and landed straight on her love button.

  "Sorry, I wasn't anticipating seeing you here at this time of day, let alone run you over again," she bowed her head to avoid his concentrated stare. Her cheeks were ablaze as she scooped up the pieces, and shoved them into her bag.

  "I could say the same for you. I pegged you as a 9-5 kind of girl, yet here we are at three in the afternoon, picking up shrapnel of what looked like a very sad computer."

  "Normally I would be at the office, but I wasn't feeling well, and thought it was best to go home. Actually, my boss told me to leave; she's a hypochondriac."

  Owen helped Ariel to her feet as he kindly carried her things. Trailing Ariel, Owen waited patiently as she unlocked her apartment door, permitting him access into her sanctuary.

  Walking into the apartment, Ariel suddenly became insecure of her surroundings. She wasn't sure what Owen would think of her domain.

  "Nice digs, where do you want these things?"

  Breathing a sigh of relief, "Kitchen table is fine."

  "So, Clumsy, what do you do for a living? You sure do carry a lot of equipment for someone who could sit at a desk or even do brain surgery."

  "Clumsy, huh? Perhaps you are correct. I write a column for a magazine here."

  "Damn. I didn't expect that. What sort of stories do you write?"

  Ariel knew he would ask, and yet she felt peculiar about telling him the truth.

  "I, ugh, write the love and relationships column."

  Raising his eyebrows he gave Ariel a staggered expression. As if this girl in front of him was clearly out of her element, and couldn't possibly write on the matter.

  "What? You’re skeptical; I can see it all over your face. Don't worry, I won't take it as an insult or anything. I'm used to it."

  "I," he began. "I honestly pictured you as an IT or Technology writer. You seem really intellectual and I just..."

  "Don't seem knowledgeable?"

  "Look, I didn't mean for you to think that..."

  "Well, I am. Thank you," Ariel was thoroughly humiliated at this point. Her cheeks splayed red as she became fidgety where she stood.

  "What do you do?" she hastily asked to avoid further questions.

  "Lucky for you, I repair and fix computers, as well as develop software for my clients. I work out of my apartment, which permits me a lot of liberty to run into women such as you," he teased.

  "Must be nice being your own boss. No wondering you’re roaming the halls waiting for innocent women to roll over," she snickered.

  "It certainly has its perks." He was mesmerized by Ariel, yet never gave her any additional information. "I'm not sure I can restore this to its original functions, but I may have a spare at my apartment I can let you borrow."

  "You are a lifesaver," she thanked him.

  "No sweat. I'll see what I have, get it set up, and bring it over later if that's cool."

  "Perfect. I have a few things I need to take care of," she stated awkwardly as Owen made his way toward the front door.

  Just as he was departing her apartment, he turned to look at Ariel.

  "And, Ariel, I have no doubt you are knowledgeable. You just need to remind yourself of that sometimes," Owen gave her a crooked smile as he turned to leave.

  As soon as Owen left the apartment, Ariel sprinted around the apartment picking up odds and ends. Perhaps cleaning up would settle her nerves. Owen petrified her on a level she wasn't familiar with. Never had she felt so apprehensive with a man.

  Just as she had placed her last piece of laundry in her dresser, she heard a familiar ping from her phone. She scurried into the living area toward the kitchen. Stretching into her handbag, she recovered her phone. To her amazement there was a private message from Dean himself. Well this day just got curious.

  * * *

  DEAN: I wanted to formally introduce myself. I know some of these groups can be overwhelming. If some of the members give you any trouble, just let me know. Some of them can be a little...territorial, if you catch my drift. Just know you are welcome.

  HEIDI: Thank you, Dean. The personal introduction was well received.

  HEIDI: Do you always make it a habit to reach out to complete strangers to welcome them?

  * * *

  She had no doubt this was probably a regular occurrence for Dean, but she would play along to stroke his ego.

  * * *

  DEAN: You hadn't left the group after the inundation of comments. I felt it was safe to say you would do well.

  HEIDI: Are these women always this assertive with their comments?

  * * *

  Ariel knew the answer to this, especially since she had been cyber stalking him for weeks now.

  * * *

  DEAN: Not all the time, just the devoted ones, I presume.

  HEIDI: You must feel...worshipped lol.

  Ariel chuckled at their lighthearted banter. It was pleasant talking with someone besides Sam or Vivienne. Just as she received another message, there was a tapping on her front door. SHIT, she had almost forgotten about Owen.

  * * *

  DEAN: If that's how you see it, then yes, I guess so. Is it so sinful to feel worshipped?

  * * *

  As she read the last message, Ariel cracked the door open to find Owen with his arms full of equipment. Allowing a soft chuckle to escape her lips, she slid the phone into her back pocket.

  "Why didn't you ask for help, silly!" She lunged to grab whatever she could from his arms. "What is all this?"

  "I figured you could use a desktop, too...just in case you would rather leave the laptop at the office next time," he leered.

  "You're not as charming as you think you are," she smiled. She couldn't tell if she was high on the notion that Dean had personally messaged her, or the fact that a se
xy Owen was standing in her apartment right now.

  "Oh, I don't know about that. I happen to believe I'm exceptionally charming." Before Ariel had a chance to respond, "Where do you want this?"

  Snapping Ariel out of her sex trance, "Kitchen table is fine. It's not like we use it or anything. Actually, I'm not quit sure why we have it."

  "Decoration, perhaps?"

  "I suppose. It seems pretty pathetic now that I say it out loud." As the last word left her mouth, she received a ping on her phone. Pulling the phone from her back pocket, she glanced at the message and smiled.

  * * *

  DEAN: Are you still there? I hope I didn't say something wrong.

  * * *

  "Boyfriend?" Owen asked, looking a little frustrated as he bent to his knees to hook the cables up.

  "More like research," she laughed as she typed back.

  * * *

  HEIDI: Hardly. Everyone should have the opportunity to feel worshipped.

  * * *

  "My work research never made me blush like that before," Owen reappeared from under the table.

  "This research is...complicated," she struggled to give him an answer.

  * * *

  DEAN: Thank goodness. How's your day going?

  * * *

  "Are you sure this "research", isn't more personal?" Owen asked with raised eyebrow.

  "Trust me, it's not personal," Ariel snickered.

  "Well, it looks like we have you all set, and ready to go. If you need anything else, I'm just down the hall." Owen straightened up, looking less than dejected this time.

  "You can bet your ass I will. I'm no good with this tech stuff."

  "I'm serious, anytime. Okay?"

  "Deal." Inspecting Owen as he turned, Ariel grappled to convey her next words. "Owen..." she started

 

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