The Roommate

by Rosie Danan

  “Are you ready?” Clara stared at the trivia on the screen with palpable excitement.

  Josh stuck his tongue between his teeth. “To rumble?”

  She awarded him a glare for his teasing.

  “Oh no! The hot popcorn is melting all of the M&Ms.” She held up the evidence. Between her thumb and forefinger, she’d captured the perfect bite: two pieces of popcorn melded together by now-gooey chocolate.

  Josh leaned forward and caught her offering between his teeth, letting his canines gently scrape against the pads of her fingertips. The salty sweet concoction and the contact with her skin made him almost dizzy with pleasure.

  Clara blushed and grabbed her own handful. After a few moments of chewing the treat, she leaned back. “You’re a genius.”

  “Wow. More compliments?”

  She nodded solemnly. “Seriously. You’re the full package.”

  Josh examined the half-empty auditorium with mock horror. “Hey, quit talking about my package. This is a family-friendly theater.”

  When she laughed against his shoulder he swore the vibrations went all the way to his roaring heart. He found himself bending down and smelling her hair. I’m such a goner.

  The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the previews. He’d never seen Rocky but he knew the story. A man no one dreamed could compete wound up holding his own in the ring with a champion.

  Speed. Die Hard. Rocky. Clara always seemed to fall for the underdog. Josh reached for her hand, ran his lips across the back of her knuckles, and wondered why he’d never noticed before. She leaned her head on his shoulder as the opening music played.

  Throughout the movie, Clara lit up anytime Josh laughed and squeezed his hand when things looked bleak for the Italian Stallion.

  When he got home he’d write a letter to his principal telling her how wrong she was. He’d grown up into the kind of man who went on dates with Clara Wheaton.

  “So . . . what did you think?” Clara practically skipped as they exited the theater.

  Josh would have sat through anything that made her glow like that movie. “I liked it. Rocky’s very lovable. Apollo was cool. Adrian’s a babe.”

  Clara stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Well, what was your favorite part?” The rest of the theatergoers shot them dirty looks as they went around.

  “Hmmm.” Josh wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave a scowling gentleman a little wave as the hallway emptied out. “I really enjoyed the way you sat forward in your chair and shadowboxed along with Sylvester Stallone.”

  Clara ducked her chin. “I may have gotten a little overexcited. Speaking of . . .” She backed him into a corner and kissed him.

  “We’ve only got fifteen minutes before the sequel starts,” he said against her lips, figuring she’d murder him if they missed the opening credits.

  “Maybe we could watch it at home?”

  Josh’s dick twitched. “At home? You mean you don’t want to see your heroes duke it out on the big screen?”

  Clara closed the distance between their hips and reached into his back pocket. “I thought I’d teach you a few sparring moves instead.”

  “Okay, but league rules say all fighters must be topless.”

  She yelped when he gave her ass a friendly tap and started walking her toward the door. If he had his way they wouldn’t get out of bed for the next forty-eight hours.

  “You know how much I love rules.” She blinked up at him with a devastating set of bedroom eyes. “Oh shoot. I left my sweater in the theater. Wait a second. I’ll grab it.” Clara made it about twelve steps before stopping short.

  Immediately, her posture changed. She stood up straighter and crossed her arms over her chest before taking another small but decisive step farther away from him. “Toni. Hello. Nice to see you.” Her voice changed pitch.

  Josh recognized Toni Granger from the newspaper, even though the woman wore a casual outfit. She was taller in person than he’d assumed.

  “I thought I’d take the team out for a little last-minute morale boost.” Toni gestured to a group of seven or eight people waiting in line to get into theater two. “Their boss kept them working late on a Saturday. We looked for you but Jill said you’d already left for an appointment.”

  Clara wrung her hands.

  The DA looked to where Josh stood waiting. “Is this your young man?” She gave him a polite smile.

  “No. Of course not,” Clara said, going white.

  Josh felt each word like a punch to the solar plexus.

  “No,” she repeated, mercilessly hammering the point home. “I was asking this nice man if he knew where the bathrooms were located.” Clara’s eyes found his, desperate and pleading. “Thank you again for your help.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Josh hauled his lead feet toward the exit.

  He’d made it about halfway through the parking lot when Clara ran up beside him. “Josh. Josh, wait up.” She caught his sleeve between her fingers. “I am so sorry about that.”

  Something inside Josh howled in pain, but he smothered its cries. “It’s fine.”

  He’d known no one would buy a fairy tale about a princess and a porn star. “Where’s your sweater?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t care about the sweater. I care about you. I . . . I couldn’t risk someone on her campaign team recognizing you.” Clara worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He lengthened his strides until she fell several steps behind him. How many times had people laughed when they heard his profession? Or stammered and refused to meet his eyes? How many people had called him disgusting? He should have outgrown this reaction years ago.

  Somehow none of those slights compared to this. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the way Clara had looked at him when she thought someone she respected might see. Even now, the difference in her body language reflected the void opening between them.

  He had been a fool and a half to think that a golden girl like her would ever acknowledge him as her equal.

  Bile rose in the back of Josh’s throat. “I get it, Clara.”

  “They’re politicians.” She stared at her hands. “Everyone’s skittish about the reelection campaign. Please understand.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Don’t beat yourself up.” As sad and pathetic as it was, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to save face. He’d die if she knew how close he’d come to believing tonight meant something. “It’s not like this was a real date.”

  Clara reared back for a moment. “Oh. Sure. Right.”

  Another nail in the coffin. Everything made sense now, her unusual calm; she’d never thought they’d make it past the bedroom. He wanted to ease the guilt off her face. She wasn’t to blame for his feral hope. “We’re having fun. Messing around.” His voice sounded far away in his own ears.

  Clara’s eyes turned the gray of a thousand thunderstorms. “Of course. I know that.”

  He wished he could trade places with Rocky Balboa. He’d give anything right now to hit hard slabs of frozen meat and run until he puked. Maybe then he could replace the emotional pain that sat like acid in his stomach with physical pain that meant something. That showed up on the outside.

  If the world were fair, Josh would have been able to get into a ring and fight for what he wanted. If the world were fair, he would have stood a chance.

  chapter thirty-one

  JOSH’S PAIN MADE him crave sugar, so he and Clara showed up to the studio the next morning bearing brownies. They weren’t supposed to arrive until noon, but he couldn’t stay trapped in the house with her any longer.

  When he suggested they get going early, his roommate, because that was all she would ever be to him, hadn’t argued. But her eyes had darted to where the keys to the rental car hung on a hook by the door and she’d shivered like they’d sprouted
big hairy legs.

  “It’s okay,” he said, understanding her hesitation to get behind the wheel again after the accident. “I’ll drive.”

  As he talked shop with Naomi, Josh tried his best to pretend he didn’t have a giant stamp on his forehead that read I had sex with Clara and I’ll never get over it.

  As his ex-girlfriend had forewarned, getting involved with his business partner and roommate left him nowhere to lick his wounds. He couldn’t escape Clara. Every time he turned around she looked carefree and pretty, the opposite of his rotting soul. The worse part was, she kept trying to apologize to him over and over again. Which only made him feel worse. He’d never felt as alone as he had climbing into his vacant bed the night before, knowing she was lying feet away and miles apart from him. He’d read the situation with her so wrong, it might as well have been written in a foreign language.

  He would count it as a tiny victory if he could at least avoid Naomi detecting his massive miscalculation. Luckily, his ex seemed distracted.

  Josh remained paranoid all morning, convinced there were signs of their indiscretion everywhere. For a moment he thought he saw a lingering love bite on her wrist, but it turned out to be leftover chocolate.

  This must be karma. In the past, he would have loved the idea of a no-strings-attached romp, but this was Clara. Clara. He wished he’d never gotten a taste of her.

  Just a few more weeks. Then at least he could move out. She wouldn’t be the first person he saw when he woke up and the last before he went to sleep. God, he felt sick.

  Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he hit pause and took off his headphones, turning to find the object of his unwanted affection.

  His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, at the way the lightweight top she wore left her arms and shoulders bare. He faked a cough to cover his reaction. Even though she kept a healthy distance between them, Josh got a whiff of the sunscreen on her skin. Somehow she’d rewired his brain to find all of these formerly ordinary things arousing. She wasn’t even showing any cleavage, for fuck’s sake.

  “Kiana looks great, doesn’t she?” Clara said, looking at the screen over his shoulder, oblivious to the effect she had on him.

  Josh forced his gaze back to the video, where a blonde was enjoying some heavy petting from her partner. The shot focused on her reaction. Clara openly admiring another woman in the throes of passion was too much for him at the moment. His hindbrain sat up and growled. “You’ve seen this?”

  “Oh yeah. I was there when they shot it last week,” she said, nonchalant.

  The sensory knowledge he’d gained the other night had only added fuel to his desire for her. He stood up abruptly, needing to put more distance between them, needing to think of anything but licking her warm, wet skin.

  “You wanna order Thai for lunch?” he asked.

  “Oh, um . . .” She grew enthralled with a crack in the vinyl of the table.

  “Clara’s got plans,” Naomi said, joining them. “But I’ll go in on noodles with you.”

  “Plans?” He looked at Clara for clarification. Since when did Clara have plans that didn’t include him?

  “A day date,” Naomi answered. Her eyes told him not to argue. “I set it up two weeks ago. My dentist is handsome and single. They’re meeting at Griffith Park at two.”

  “A blind date, huh?” Josh tried to ask like a normal person, a person with less to lose.

  Clara nodded. “Naomi insisted on setting it up because I haven’t gone out much since I moved here.”

  Josh had kissed her and held her and been inside her, and she would still rather go on a date with some random guy.

  “Your phone is ringing,” Naomi said, handing him the offending electronic device. Her raised brows said, What is wrong with you?

  The caller ID made him grimace. “It’s Bennie.” He moved his thumb to send the call to voice mail. Everything was wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it. He needed to talk to Clara. Now.

  “Answer,” Naomi told him.

  He shot daggers at her. “Hello?”

  “Darling.” His agent’s voice sounded in his ear. “It’s been too long. I hope you didn’t think you were done with me?”

  “What do you want, Bennie?”

  “Now, now. Better watch that tone. Someone less charitable might take offense. I’m calling to let you know about some industry developments I thought you might find interesting. I believe you know Paulo Santiago and Lucie Corben?”

  Of course Josh knew those names. Paulo was the editor who’d given him the Final Cut software download in exchange for a round of beers, and Lucie was a makeup artist who told him dirty jokes until he laughed so hard he cried off all her handiwork. They were two of his favorite people in the business.

  “Get to your point.”

  “They’ve both been removed from consideration on any future Black Hat productions.”

  He covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his palm. “Pruitt’s making good on his threats.”

  Naomi cursed under her breath.

  “You’re a piece of shit, Bennie. Doing that bastard’s dirty work is low, even for you,” Josh said into the phone.

  “Hey, kid. I’m the messenger. For every day you go without signing a new contract, the list of people who find themselves out of work goes up. And if you’re thinking about pushing your luck, let me remind you that Mr. Pruitt’s holdings are vast. He’s got a lot of expendable resources. He can afford to wait. If you change your mind about signing, you know where to reach me,” he said before disconnecting the call.

  In contrast to the people caught in the crosshairs was the implicit subtext. Josh knew that Paulo and Lucie lived paycheck to paycheck, like a lot of Pruitt’s employees. He thought about Paulo’s kids and Lucie’s expensive ongoing hormone therapy treatments.

  He couldn’t let them suffer for his actions. His mistakes. He slammed his fist on the card table so hard the legs wobbled. This week was shaping up to be a real kick in the teeth.

  “Damn it. I can’t be worth this much effort. Why go to all this trouble to get me to bend to his will? This industry is full of white guys with big dicks.”

  “I don’t think it’s just about you,” Naomi said. “We’ve been noisy in our dissent. Word’s getting around about our little project. People are calling, ready to defect, no matter the risks. We’ve got interviews set up through next week. I think this is about Pruitt sending a message. About crushing anyone who stands in opposition to him. If he doesn’t nip this in the bud he could find himself with a mass revolt on his hands.”

  “Good,” Clara said from the corner. “Sorry. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “A couple weeks hanging around a bunch of sex workers and suddenly you’ve got an appetite for rebellion?” Naomi raised a finely arched eyebrow.

  Clara gave a demure shrug.

  Josh sank back into the folding chair with his head spinning. There was no way he could justify being this selfish. Look at the cost. How could he let people he cared about suffer when he had the power to stop it?

  “You can’t sign that contract,” Clara said. “If you sign, Pruitt and Bennie win. Besides.” She folded her hands. “There’s still nothing to stop him from firing more people after he gets what he wants. You’d be giving up your leverage.”

  Josh rubbed his palms against his eyes. “My leverage doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t hire the whole industry,” he said. “Black Hat’s pockets are deeper than even yours.”

  Naomi shook her head. “We need to hold out long enough to get to the press. It’s only a few more days.”

  Clara smiled hopefully. She and Naomi and so many other amazing women had given their time and knowledge and experience so this tiny, probably fruitless rebellion could see the light of day.

  Josh looked at the screen left up on his computer, at the banner across the t
op of the website, the first thing people would see when they visited, designed in Clara’s hand, brought to life from a sketch Naomi had rescued from among a hundred destined for the trash. Shameless, the letters growing out of the earth like fresh blooms.

  He could do this for them.

  Even if Clara had broken his heart. Even if she continued to baffle him, continued to infuriate him with how much she made him want her. If she wanted to go to war with a porn monolith, well, the least he could do was ride in beside her.

  Josh grabbed his backpack, hunting for a nondescript black flash drive he’d taken to keeping on hand. He’d been adding to it sporadically for months now. Even with the stakes raised, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have the guts to do anything with it, but holding it, knowing he had it, made breathing a little easier. No matter what the next few weeks held, Josh had underestimated Black Hat for the last time.

  chapter thirty-two

  CLARA WINCED AS Toni Granger exited the stage of the local L.A. County Baptist Church.

  This was the third public campaign appearance she and Jill had attended in the last two weeks, and the trend was clear. Toni would need a miracle to defend her position against her brash super PAC–funded opponent with his big mouth and even bigger promises.

  “She got bulldozed.” Jill agreed with Clara’s assessment of their client’s performance at the Candidates’ Forum. “He made her look soft on crime.” She took a sip from a paper cup of instant coffee, courtesy of the event’s meager refreshment table.

  Earlier this week, supporters of her opponent had released a nasty attack ad, going for the jugular. The crowd today had obviously seen it. They’d practically eaten out of her opponent’s hand while he fired off out-of-context statistics about Toni’s conviction record.

  “She’s a reform candidate,” Clara said, shifting her weight to the opposite leg and trying to stick up for Toni. “She’s trying to correct the criminal justice system of mass incarceration.”

  Clara’s feet throbbed inside her heels. Josh had been in the living room this morning when she got ready for the event. He’d lain on the sofa, eating frozen waffles, right next to where she’d left her preferred pair of work shoes. She’d been avoiding him for three nights. Ever since she got back from her lackluster date with the dentist. A date she hadn’t even wanted in the first place. Clara had spent the whole picnic thinking about Josh. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Last night she’d woken up saying his name into her pillow.