Nicole grimaced. She finished brewing her coffee and poured it into a ceramic mug. “That sounds horrible.”
“It was.” Danielle sighed. “I need a real man. Like that Red Jameson type,” she said. “He seems like he would know his way around the bedroom, doesn’t he?”
Nicole didn’t answer.
“Weren’t you saying something last night about him calling you into his office? Or did I just dream it?”
“It must’ve been a dream,” Nicole lied. In the light of day she didn’t want to tell Danielle anything. It was special. It was between her and Red only.
“God I need a real man so bad,” Danielle said, shaking her head.
***
The rest of the weekend crawled by, and so did the first few days of the following week. Nicole couldn’t believe that Red hadn’t contacted her at all. Nothing.
She was positively stewing, alternately furious and then wounded, flattened by the sheer inexplicable way he’d withdrawn from her. They’d shared something so intimate, so intense—and the look on his face. She’d seen that passion burning in his eyes, it wasn’t just imagined.
Everything came to a head when Red did happen to walk by her cubicle, and completely ignored her.
It was like slow motion.
She had managed to forget about him for a few brief moments, and was working on cropping an image that Remi had given her. A dancing cowboy, of course. It made her wonder if she could really work in this industry for the rest of her adult life. Remi was doing almost nothing but this cowboy ad, testing out different pictures, using effects to change them and mold them into something interesting.
Nicole was already sick of it and she wasn’t doing it all day long the way Remi was.
She finally sat back and rubbed her eyes, glancing away from her monitor just in time to see Red striding past her cubicle. He didn’t even turn to look at her, make eye contact, nothing.
She knew full well that he’d seen her, though. Red didn’t miss a thing, he was notoriously detail oriented. She’d heard stories of him remembering people’s names, friends of friends that he’d never even met but had heard someone mention years before.
Burning with rage, her pride mortally wounded, she got up and followed him through the maze of cubicles and out into the hallway near his private elevators. Luckily there was nobody else out there.
“Why are you ignoring me?” she said, as he pressed the call button.
He turned slowly, not showing even an ounce of surprise at her following him.
“Ignoring you?”
“Yes. We…” she looked around again to make sure nobody could hear her. “We had that time together. It meant a lot to me. I thought we shared something special.” She hated the pleading quality her voice had taken on, petulant, childish.
He studied her like a scientist discovering a peculiar new species of insect. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“I know that.” Her voice quieted. She knew she’d overstepped her bounds.
“Did you enjoy yourself this weekend?”
Startled, she met his steady gaze. “Did I enjoy myself?”
“You had some company. A young man. Was that also special?”
“My roommate was interested in his friend, so she insisted—“
He waved her explanation off. “Your time is your own.”
“You spied on me.” She’d only just realized he must have had someone watching her.
“I need to look after you,” he said, his tone softening. He came towards her now. “I have to protect you at all times. I’ll never let any harm come to you.”
“If someone was watching me, then you know I wasn’t with that stupid boy.”
He smiled at her. “I’m aware of everything.”
“So why did you try and use it against me?”
“I don’t like you putting yourself in those situations. Out at bars, bringing strange men home. Things can happen fast. What if I can’t get to you in time?”
“I can take care of myself,” she said, but inside she was joyful. Her heart sang. He cared. He was watching after her the whole time. He hadn’t simply forgotten about her.
“I can’t talk much longer,” he said. The elevator pinged its arrival. “I have an important meeting to attend to.”
“I—I miss you.”
“You’ve forgotten your manners again,” he chided, turning to enter the elevator. “I’ll be in touch.”
And then the doors closed and he was gone.
***
That night, he came for her.
It was only just after ten o’clock. She and Danielle were watching a Desperate Housewives rerun and snacking on roasted peanuts.
The apartment buzzer sounded, making both of them jump.
Danielle and her locked eyes. “You think it’s a mistake?” Nicole asked.
“I don’t know.” Danielle jumped up and ran to the window, looked down at the street. “There’s some fancy black car parked out front, but I can’t see anybody.”
Again, the buzzer sounded.
Red. It had to be, Nicole thought. She ran to the intercom. “Hello?”
“Be outside in five minutes,” the deep voice said.
“I need to get dressed,” she replied. But he’d already gone.