Charity's Warrior (17 page)

There was only a few seconds to look at it, then the screen went black and a few lights went out, including that one. A few seconds after that, all the lights went out, along with my curiosity.

I got up with the laptop and put it away in its bag. The Bullet went back in my suitcase, and I opened the drawer I'd been using and pulled out panties and a T-shirt to sleep in.

The night was done. I shut off the light and got into bed.

L
unch
with the girls was fun, as it usually was, a nice break in the day. Last week, getting ready for my apartment didn't leave too much time, but I got out with them on Friday, and then all three days of this week so far.

My apartment is coming along wonderfully; I was so happy getting my furniture Saturday and finally sleeping in my own new bed. The hotel wasn't thrilled about my early checkout, but they'll get over it, there was only this week left on it before I would have had to extend or go someplace else. That’s all in the past. I had my place, and with all the furniture in it, it looked complete. And it nearly is.

What was a little surprising was that even with all the furniture coming in and the trips up and down the elevators picking up things I'd ordered and returning from shopping, I hadn't seen Justin since the parking garage. I didn't know if it was over, or if he was just letting himself settle, but either way I went about my business. I was following Lena's advice the best I could. I was being patient, and I was doing what was right for me. I hoped he would come around, but I wasn't waiting.

Fooling myself!

John and I are getting along great. He told me this morning that he can't believe it's only been a week, that we fit together like it's been years. I'd already met his wife at the office, and I've been speaking with at least half a dozen of his most important contacts. Not only was his schedule running perfectly, but he now has me working on two of his projects. I feel at home.

I have been making one huge mistake. No one is perfect, but this one I knew I shouldn't be doing, and I kept on going anyway. Right or wrong, it was my favorite part of each day.
And I have to lie about it to everyone.

The girls, mostly Jennifer and Lynda, are relentless about it, having sniffed it out like lionesses on a hunt. They knew nothing, really, but what they thought they knew was enough for them. I can't blame them for being excited, but I have to be careful.

Almost every day so far, JP sent a quick chat to check in on me, asking me how things were with John and the rest of the office. They were very short, professional chats, just courtesy calls.

That's what I told them, anyway.

According to Jennifer and Lynda, self-proclaimed JP experts, this was his way of flirting. No one else,
not one,
was getting the same attention from him, and he was such a stiff person that this was obviously the best he could do, the closest he could come to hitting on me. The boss had a thing for me, and they were thrilled, it made him human—a man.

What kept it exciting for them was the fact that I didn't agree with them. I keep telling them that I just don't see it as anything more than politeness. That made it safe. That made it acceptable.

That was not the truth at all, oh hell no, not even close!

Telling them JP does chat with me, admitting to that much, was my cover. Sooner or later, someone was bound to see him instant message me, find the yellow box blinking JP on my task bar, and when they did it was not going to seem so unexpected. It was going to be easier to lie about, and my reputation here needed that.

The truth is they don't know the first thing about JP. He's extremely down to earth and grounded, with a hysterical sense of humor. He seeks out the genuine qualities in everyone and would choose a loyal single parent without a college degree over any overly-educated big shot that was just out for himself. Once he begins to care about you, he never stops.

And the only thing stiff about him is probably his cock after one of our chat sessions, especially the ones that have been occurring at night—after hours. I've had to pull the bullet out of the bag a couple of times already after chatting with him. Things grew very heated, really quickly between us, and we both agree that the first time we meet; it should not be at the office.

Honestly, I don't know how he was surviving our conversations. I had my bullet, so I'm thinking he was doing the same thing, but I hadn't actually asked him that,
yet
. I can't wait to find that out! I love the thought of him jerking off his hard cock and thinking about me.

Okay, I shouldn't think about that right now.

For someone I hadn't actually met face to face, I'm feeling incredibly close to him, and he was really making the absence of Justin tolerable. I just wish it wasn't so taboo for the office.

Obviously, I'm a wreck. I've fallen for the both of them, and can't have either. What the fuck am I thinking? There can only be pain from this—my pain!
Why the hell would I do this to myself?

Decisions need to be made, soon! I'm on my way to the Manhattan grill after work today, just to see if Justin is there, or talk to Trisha about him if he’s not. There was a sweetness to him, a way of caring about me that I have been missing desperately for days. I'm torn between Trisha's advice, and Lena's. One told me to stay away, the other told me to stay close, and I don’t know who to listen to anymore. JP makes me laugh. Justin makes me feel safe and desirable, and I miss him when he’s gone.

Twice this week I had the feeling someone was watching me. Each time, I had the urge to call Justin, have him save me again, but I didn't think it was fair to keep using him that way. He would certainly come, I am sure of it, and that's exactly what made it wrong. When I see him again, it's going to be because he chooses to. So when I had those creepy feelings, I toughened myself up and went looking for the dark hoodie myself.

It was never there. I'm starting to think I have some stress related paranoia from the attack, and everything since has just been in my head. I joke, but it's not so farfetched. I was traumatized, and I've probably been blowing it off too easily.

I checked the time and dialed John's number.

"Yo?" John answered.

"Hey. You should start packing it up, it's four o'clock and you have dinner with Joe Barcia uptown. You know it's going to take longer in the rain," I told him.

"Aw shit," he said. "Thank you much, Sweetie."

I laughed and hung up, turning to look out the window behind me. Mid-September was still hot in the city. The cooling rain was not a bad thing, but it really screwed with the traffic. I have on a leather tee and printed palazzo pants from Alice and Olivia. The top is not as heavy as you might think, but the pants were perfect for the weather—and my mood.

After a few minutes, John stopped in the doorway of my office. "I'm outta here," he said, "and I want you gone too. You've been knocking yourself out for me. The day is done, there's no more assisting needed. Get out and go have a little fun, go get something for your apartment, go meet some friends—just don't stay here!" He winked at me, and I waved goodbye.

He was right; there was no sense in sitting here just to stare out the window watching the raindrops pass. If I left now I would probably catch Tricia's break before dinner begins. I shut down, packed up, and hailed a taxi in less than ten minutes.

The driver and I ignored each other. I wanted Justin in the back with me. And,
oh joy,
I was finally getting to pay my own cab fare. Not as exciting as I'd hyped it to be.

Only four people at the bar and one table in use. It was going to get busier, but the rain was keeping the early crowd away as I'd hoped. Trisha was talking to the bartender when she saw me.

"Hey, Girl!" she shrieked. "I'm going on break, can you join me?"

Perfect!

"Absolutely, I was hoping to catch you," I said through a pleased smile as I walk up to them.

"Can you bring her a Red Bull and vodka while I get us some food?" she asked the bartender.

"My pleasure," he replied, waving hello to me.

"Grab our usual table," she said to me. "I'll put your order in. What do you want, grilled chicken salad again?"

"Fuck it, it's raining," I said. "I'll have the California Burger."

Trisha laughed hysterically. "Now
that's
my girl."

I sat down while she dipped into the kitchen before joining me, tossing my bag under the table out of my way. Our drinks were right behind her.
Thank God for that!

"The food will be out in a few minutes," Trisha trumpets. "So, how is the apartment, tell me about it, everything all situated now?"

I was surprised that she knew. I hadn't been in to see her since last week, and I never had the chance to tell her. "You heard?" I asked.

"Of course. You know us ladies have our ways," she joked. Then she gave it up, "Justin told me."

"Ah. He's been in?" I asked.

I'm angry that he had time to come here, but no time to call me. Maybe angry is too light a word!

"Yesterday, but he really wasn't himself. All he talked about was you. When he's talking about you he seems fine, happy. When he wasn't talking about you, he wasn't talking at all. Never saw him act like that—
ever!
I have to say, I think he's got a thing for you," she said.

I blushed, suddenly not so angry. "I don't think so. He hasn't been around, and I haven't heard from him at all. Even you know this is his MO."

Why the hell am I fighting it? This is exactly what I wanted to hear!

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No this is different. His MO would have been to be here with another woman, he would have moved on. He hasn't. I think the only reason he came in was to ask me about you, and if I had seen you."

"If he wanted to know how I was, he would call me. Or, hell, knock on my door since I'm only a few floors down," I said.

Trisha took a swig of her water and shrugged. "I don't think he's ready for that. If he has feelings for you, and I don't know him
super
well, but I'd bet if he likes you, someone like that would have no idea what to do with it. He's probably confused as hell, and that's just what he looked like. He looked beside himself."

Now I know why I'm denying her—because I want confirmation, I want to know she's sure.

"Trisha, you were the biggest warning against expecting anything serious with him!" I snapped.

"I know, I'm shocked as well, but I'm telling you what I think. He never acts like this," she said defensively. "Is this a bad thing?"

I hesitated. "No, it wouldn't be bad," I said. "It's just...I don't wanna get my hopes up and get hurt. Even if he is interested in something more, it doesn't mean he can do it."

"True," she said. "I get it." She reached an understanding hand across the table and touched mine. "But we both know it's already getting too late for that. You look strung out because you haven't seen him, and you're angry that he hasn't called. You look almost as bad as he does"

Is she serious?
He looks worse than I feel? The excitement begins.

Their chef, the Spanish guy from that first night, brought our food out and offered me a bright smile. I waved and said hello before he walked away, glad to see him as well.

"So what are you gonna do?" Trisha asked.

My mouth was full, but I answered anyway, "Not sure. Nothing, if he doesn't ever call me again. I guess I'm willing to do whatever he wants, whether that is a relationship, or to forget about each other, whatever he needs."

Trisha smiled. "You know the next time I see him, I'm gonna give him shit until he agrees to call you. I should have done it this last time."

I laughed at her. It seems everyone can see that Justin is into me—except for Justin and me.