Claim Me: A Novel

“Anytime. Bring your camera if you want,” she says. “Or just come for the liquor and the gossip. Both flow free at my house. Advice, too, if you need it. But from what I’m hearing, you’re doing just fine.”


“Blaine’s been telling stories on me.” I can’t help my grin. The skinny young artist and the large brassy woman don’t seem like a couple at first glance. And while Evelyn will say she only keeps Blaine around to warm her bed, I have a feeling there’s a lot more to it than that.

“Hell, yes. What’s the point of sending that boy out in the world if he doesn’t bring me back the dirt?”

“And?”

“You’re boringly dirt-free,” she says. “From what I hear, you’re swimming in bliss.”

I laugh. “I’ll go with that.”

“Good. Glad I’m not the only one getting hot sex regularly.”

My cheeks burn, and I have to press my lips together not to burst out laughing.

“But it’s more than that, I take it? From what Blaine says, it sounds like you’ve tamed the savage beast.” I don’t reply, but her words please me so much that I’m pretty sure I must be glowing. “So there’s no new dramas on the horizon?”

“No,” I say warily, because this is neither the time nor the place to tell her about Carl’s threats. From her tone, though, I can’t help but fear that she already knows. “Why? Is there something I should know?”

She waves an airy hand through the air. “Not a thing.”

I narrow my eyes at her. Evelyn may have been a good liar back in her agenting days, but she has lost the knack.

She eyes me, then snorts with laughter. “Aw, hell, Texas. I meant what I said. There’s nothing you need to worry about. Not now, anyway.”

Several groups of people have gotten on and off the elevator during our conversation, and now the car once again opens in front of us.

“Time to go to work, right?” Evelyn says.

“You are not getting off that easy,” I retort, following her on. I have every intention of interrogating her, but there’s no time during the short ride up, and when the doors open, there’s no privacy. The receptionist, a girl my age who I remember is named Cindy, immediately stands.

“Wow, it’s so cool to have you here,” she says to me, then blushes. “I mean, you’re going to fit in great. We can do lunch if you want.”

“Thanks,” I say, with a sidelong glance toward Evelyn, who only looks amused. “I think I’m having lunch with Bruce today.”

“Oh, right. Mr. Tolley’s ready for you. Just a sec, and I’ll walk you back.” She turns to Evelyn before I have the chance to tell her I’m supposed to meet first with the lady from Human Resources. “May I help you?”

“Evelyn Dodge,” Evelyn says. “I called Bruce about picking up—”

“Oh, sure thing, Ms. Dodge.” She comes around the desk and hands Evelyn an envelope that presumably contains a key.

Evelyn slides it into her humongous purse and points a finger at me. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, Texas.”

“Yeah,” I say meaningfully. Evelyn is one of the few people who knows the identity of the woman in Blaine’s portrait. “You’ll certainly be seeing plenty of me tomorrow.”

Evelyn guffaws and then steps back onto the elevator. I follow Cindy down the plain gray halls to Bruce’s office, Evelyn’s laughter still ringing in my ears.





8


We don’t even make it to the office before Bruce emerges. When we met during the interview, he’d been the picture of corporate calm. Now he looks undeniably harried. “Nikki, great to see you.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. It’s firm and no-nonsense, and I think that bodes well for Bruce as a boss.

Cindy returns to reception and Bruce starts down the hallway, easing farther into the bowels of the company. He’s moving fast, and I hurry to keep up. If the fight with his wife is weighing on him, I don’t see it. He looks like a man with a work problem, not a marital one.

“If this is a bad time,” I begin. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Human Resources is expecting me.”

“I talked with Trish. She’ll take care of your paperwork this afternoon. Right now, I’ve got something I’d like you to handle.” He comes to a stop outside an office, its closed door covered with taped-on cartoons and various band logos. “I hope you don’t mind getting thrown to the wolves.”

I eye the door curiously. The truth is that I have no idea what he’s talking about, but what I do know is that the proper response to such a question from your new boss is “Not at all. What’s going on?”

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