by Olivia Devon
“Sleep,” said Aaron, pulling her in for a cuddle.
“But we were going to have the sex again,” said Katie with another yawn. “And I really like doing that.”
“I really like it too,” said Aaron, brushing his hand over her hair. “So I promise, we will have the sex again. Soon. But for now. Sleep.”
Chapter Seventeen
For about ten full seconds after she woke, Katie didn’t know where she was. But then she remembered.
The club, the dress, the mask, the men.
Oh god.
Aaron.
Katie sighed and rewound the previous evening in her mind, her still half asleep imagination playing through the acts with enthusiasm.
Aaron’s eyes. Aaron’s lips on hers.
Hands on her body.
Aaron’s hands on her body.
Touching, kneading, exploring…
Aaron’s cock…
She stretched lazily and rolled over, ready to claim a kiss and the round two he’d promised the night before.
“Hey there…” The words died on her lips.
He was gone. Instead of the naked length of him she’d been anticipating, there was a single sheet of paper on his pillow.
Katie,
Thanks for an amazing evening. Sorry I had to go. Eleventy-billion dollar tech companies wake up early apparently, and are very demanding about their CEOs. :)
Looking forward to round two,
Aaron
“Funny guy copying my note, huh?”
P.S. Unfortunately, some urgent things came up at the office. I was reluctant to wake you. You’ll find bagels and coffee in the kitchen, and please stay as long as you like.
In all seriousness, last night was epic. I’m very much looking forward to seeing you again, and I really hope that next time, we get to wake up together.
She felt her cheeks flush hot and she pressed the paper to her lips, hiding her smile. From who? Aaron wasn’t here, she was all alone. But still, there was something about him that made her feel shy. Then again, there was something about him that made her feel bold too.
Even daring.
Last night was proof of that.
Katie found her boots, skinny jeans, and red cashmere sweater sitting on the counter in Aaron’s master bathroom. Aiko must have dropped them off for her.
It seemed a week since she’d last worn that outfit, not a mere twenty-four hours. The clothes felt like they belonged to someone else now, a Katie Martinez that hadn’t fucked a guy in a sex club with a bunch of strange men watching.
She looked at herself in the mirror and squinted. Did she look different? Would this Katie Martinez wear the same outfit? She smiled at her reflection and shrugged.
Yes, she was different, but cashmere was cashmere, so she got dressed.
The bagels were waiting in the kitchen as promised, and from the temperature of the coffee she figured she had woken up just a few minutes after Aaron left. It was still early, there was time enough to speed home, change, and attend to a few things, and then maybe she’d come back, and surprise him with dinner.
Popping the lid off the take-out cup of coffee she took a sip and swallowed. That’s when it hit her. Her throat felt sore and swollen, and now that the last remnants of her post-Aaron high were wearing off…damn…her body felt achey too.
It was probably just a little bit of soreness due to last night’s acrobatics.
Right?
She sneezed, and her sinuses stuffed right up as a dull thudding began behind her eyes.
Great. She was getting sick.
Fuck!
Round two would have to wait.
“I don’t understand.” Aaron tossed the tabloid on his desk, and folded his arms over his chest. “Why does the press care what I do in my private life? They never have before.”
Aiko, Malcolm, and Jack had joined Aaron in his office to discuss the morning’s headlines. Headlines that featured a grainy photo of Aaron and a curvy brunette walking through a doorway inside of Lux.
“That’s not entirely correct,” said Malcolm. “You were in the gossip pages when you were with Carly Carpenter, but the focus of the gossip was on her, so perhaps that’s why it didn’t warrant your notice. Also, I’ll point out that Ms. Carpenter has been aggressively pursuing coverage lately and seems to have a PR team that is advising her to attach herself to HyperLyfe. Our understanding is she wants to be –”
“The first virtual reality supermodel celebrity,” said Aiko, cutting Malcolm off. “The best way to sell that story is to hitch her wagon to you personally. So, Carly’s all over the place right now saying you two are dating again. But look, the press isn’t stupid, and she’s a bad liar. Her story didn’t ring true from the beginning. Add to that the fact that we fired your PR team after they gushingly confirmed a relationship, and well the whole thing stinks. The press smell a bigger story, so they’re digging.”
Aaron picked up the tabloid again. The photo was low resolution and in dim lighting, his back was mostly turned and he was wearing a mask, but yeah, even he had to admit it was pretty obvious the guy in the photo was him. His height and his suit gave it all away. Once somebody made that connection, the rest of the picture was even juicier. The petite, sexy brunette beside him was definitely not Carly. And there was no mistaking that the two people in the photo were familiar with each other, intimate. Aaron’s hand was resting on bare skin, low on the woman’s back, and everything about his posture screamed attraction and not a little bit of possessiveness.
“How did they even get this shot?” He sighed. “I thought cameras weren’t allowed in Lux?”
“Lucky shot,” said Malcolm. “Hidden camera in a pair of glasses on a gentleman who accompanied a paid member. The member has been expelled of course.”
“Wyatt’s team spotted the asshole within minutes,” said Jack. “They confiscated the glasses, but the frame was hiding a wireless connection.”
Aiko nodded. “Guy managed to upload four photos to an outside server before we stopped him.” She pulled out her phone and flipped through a few images for Aaron. “See? That one’s blurry. Another blurry. Too dark, and…pay dirt. You and Katie heading back for the ole slap and tickle. Sorry buddy.”
“I don’t care about me.” Aaron waved a hand. “It’s Katie. She doesn’t deserve this. Last night was an impulse. And, we thought, anonymous. It needs to stay that way. I don’t want her hurt because of this, because of me, it’s just…” Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
“She isn’t recognizable in the photo,” said Jack. “And if we have to, we’ll set up a false story and have some Lux employees cop to it.”
“They’ll say they’re the ones in the photos?” asked Aaron.
“Absolutely,” said Jack. “And Lux will compensate them. It’s our fault the guy was able to get the shot.”
“Thank you.”
There was a knock at the door, and Gwenyth Hall, Aaron’s Head of Acquisitions peeked in.
“Mr. Eldridge? I’ve got the updated reports you requested.”
“Thank you,” Aaron waved the woman in and then looked to his friends. “Keep me posted. If there’s anything we need to do–”
“You can rest assured it will be handled,” said Malcolm. Jack, Aiko and Malcolm, said their goodbyes and left as Gwen strode across the room and sat down, dropping a stack of folders on Aaron’s desk.
“I’ve been watching your daily VR demonstrations,” she said. “And I think you’ll find ZumZum Games out of Illinois has been watching too.”
Aaron cocked an eyebrow and sorted through the folders until he found ZumZum Games. Flipping it open he scanned the report and then looked up at Gwen with a smile.
“This is impressive,” he said.
“I agree.” Gwen smirked as she nodded in agreement. “They really seem to know what they’re doing. Have a good eye for what’s hot, and what’s going to be hot.”
“This proposal they have,” said Aaron, pointing
to the report. “To port Celestia outside of HyperLyfe, make it a multi-platform experience for cross-over gaming…it’s brilliant.”
Gwen nodded knowingly. “Yep, I thought you find that particularly interesting. Like I said, I’ve been watching the VR demos. Celestia’s been a big hit with the viewers. And I pulled up the HyperLyfe stats. Celestia is already one of the most popular destination games inworld, and it’s only getting more popular with all the media exposure.”
“I have a personal friendship with the creator of Celestia,” said Aaron. “She hasn’t mentioned anything about ZumZum to me.” He thought for a moment, then continued. “I think it’s something she would’ve mentioned. So I’m guessing they haven’t approached her with this proposal yet?”
“They haven’t,” said Gwen, shaking her head. “That document is supposed to be internal research only. I’m not supposed to have it.”
Aaron nodded and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“Do they have the tech talent to pull off a project like this?”
Gwen nodded, her grin growing wider. “Yes, but not enough capital, which is why I was looking at them for acquiring. They’ve got great people. If we take them on, we’ll want to keep ‘em, they’re their biggest asset.”
“Alright, well, let’s keep an eye on things. I don’t need to know who your source inside ZumZum is, but I assume whoever leaked you that document is happy to keep you advised of developments?”
“I think so,” Gwen said with a wink. “I’ll let you know if anything happens that we need to get ahead of.”
Basically, she was going to die. She had a temperature and the chills. Her throat was raw and her head was pounding. Every muscle ached. Even her toes ached.
Even her eyelashes ached.
She was miserable, and there was no one to take care of her. Rupert was staring at her like she was a snot monster, her mom lived hours away, and Aiko wouldn’t answer her phone.
“Answer!” Katie groaned at her cell phone just as Aiko picked up.
“Okay, um, I just did. Jeez.”
“I’ve called you like three times Aik.”
“Well I’m sorry, princess, but I was working, what’s your damage?”
“I’m so sick,” Katie moaned. “And I need to know if you can catch like, a sex plague or something…like…”
“A sex plague?”
“I was at Lux and…” Katie curled up on her bed in the fetal position and cradled the phone. “I think god is punishing me,” she whispered. “I’ve got the sex plague.”
“Oh my god, Martinez, you do not,” said Aiko sternly. “You’ve got a standard cold or flu or something. Incubation for such things takes longer than twelve hours, no way you would be sick today from something you caught last night.”
“Wait….” said Katie. “How do you know about last night?”
“You just told me,” said Aiko.
“No I didn’t. I said I was at Lux, and I was. The other day. With you. That’s what you should’ve assumed I was talking about.” Katie sat bolt upright on the bed. “So tell me how you know about last night!”
“First,” said Aiko. “Chillax. Second, yes, you were at Lux a few days ago, that’s probably where you got the cold. Not because of any sex plague, but because since you are a game-addicted shut-in who never subjects her immune system to anything harsher than a hang-nail, I’m not surprised you got sick. And that’s only because the real world has germs, not because god is punishing you.”
“Yeah but how–” Katie coughed into the phone. “How do you know about last night? I thought that place was discreet.”
“Dude.” Aiko sighed. “It is. But…look it’s not important right now. You need to get some rest. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Fine. But only because I’m too sick to care.” Katie coughed again and then moaned when her head began pounding anew. “Aik…I’m dying.”
“Do you have NyQuil or anything?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll bring some chicken soup over later. Just take the medicine for now, and try to get some sleep.”
Katie agreed, let Aiko go, and collapsed on the bed. The pounding continued.
Grabbing the bottle of NyQuil, she opened it and began pouring herself a dose just as Rupert raced across the bed and knocked both the bottle and the dose cup right out of her hands. Thick red liquid seeped into the area rug as Rupert meowed and pawed at the mess.
“No! Rupe, that’s not a treat!” Katie shooed the cat away and threw a roll of paper towels onto the puddle.
More pounding. Bending over had not helped the pounding.
There was no way she’d be able to sleep without some relief. Locking Rupert in the bathroom to keep him from the puddle, Katie threw on ratty sweatpants, a mismatched pair of socks, her slippers, and a winter coat and set out of her apartment to the bodega one block north. They had NyQuil, and Funyuns, and tea, and she was going to need all three if she had any hope of surviving this plague. Probably some chocolate too.
The bodega cat meowed at her when she stumbled in, probably because she smelled like another cat, and snot, and sex plague. She’d neglected to grab a basket, so Katie shuffled down the aisles and used the front of her sweatshirt as a hammock, loading up chips, green tea, candy bars and Cup-O-Noodles. She was halfway to the cash register when she heard the cat hiss and turned, ready to hiss back.
Surprisingly, the fat gray tabby was not hissing at her, but rather a man in a trench coat lurking at the end of the aisle. He wore a baseball hat and carried a camera, and he was futilely trying to avoid the cat while it hissed and spit at him.
Katie shrugged. Bodega cats meant business. If trench coat dude needed a lesson, she had no doubt the gray tabby would provide it. She shuffled the rest of the way to the register and tried to muster a sickly greeting for Mr. Alvarez behind the counter.
“Bottle of NyQuil,” she croaked.
“Oh Katie!” The old man exclaimed as his smile faded. “You look terrible!”
Mr. Alvarez grabbed the medicine from a shelf behind him and placed it on the counter. Picking up a pair of tongs, he reached into a small countertop display case, pulled out two pastries, and placed them in a white paper bag.
“Here,” he said, ringing up her purchase. “On the house. Fresh this morning from my Maria. Papaya quesito niña, just what the doctor ordered.”
“Thank you.” Katie smiled gratefully as she ran her debit card through the machine. She jerked her head towards the guy in the back, still fighting with the cat. “What’s going on there?” she asked. “Weirdo or street artist?”
“Why not both?” Mr. Alvarez rolled his eyes.
Chuckling, Katie took the bag of groceries from Mr. Alavarez and waved as she headed to the door. Just as she was stepping onto the sidewalk, the cat hissed again, much louder this time, and then yowled.
“Hey!” Katie turned back into the store. “What the hell is your problem dude? Leave the cat alone!”
A flash went off in her face and Katie cussed as another coughing attack overtook her.
Had that motherfucker just taken her photo? That motherfucker had just taken her photo!
“Get out before I call the cops!” Mr. Alvarez yelled. “Your street art is stupid! No one cares about your shitty photos!” Mr. Alavarez’s speech shifted from English to rapid Spanish and fist-shaking. Katie ducked out of the way as the trench-coated photographer pushed past her into the street, flipped her off and then raced around the block.
“What the hell?” Katie said, meeting Mr. Alvarez’s outraged glare. He had the phone raised to his ear and one index finger up in the air as if he’d been frozen mid-dial.
“Go home Katie,” he said. “Feel better. Sorry about the pendejo.”
“Not your fault Mr. Alavarez.” Katie waved as she headed back out the door. “Thanks for the quesitos.”
Ten minutes later she was back in her apartment. She’d let Rupert out after she’d cleaned up the mess on the rug. Th
en she made a cup of tea, ate one entire quesito, chased it with a healthy dose of medicine, and passed out cold.
It was early evening when the pounding started again. But this time it wasn’t her head, it was her front door.
“Aiko,” she muttered sleepily. Finally! She really could use some chicken soup about now.
Katie tripped over Rupert on the way to the door then checked the peephole.
What. The ever loving. Fuck.
It wasn’t Aiko at the door.
It was Steven.
As in “pathetic thieving ass ex-boyfriend who dumped her while she was in the hospital and then stole her company” Steven.
Katie slapped off the safety-chain, threw the deadbolt and reached for the knob while Rupert arched his back and hissed.
“Well, this oughta be good.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Hello Katie.” Steven Mayer grinned and held up his palms as if he was expecting to ward off an attack. But then he smiled and tilted his head, knit his eyebrows together and widened his arms a little.
Was the asshole hoping for a hug? He’d always been the master of mixed signals.
Katie physically recoiled into her doorway and Steven took that as an invitation inside, pushing past her into the small foyer of her apartment as Rupert hissed again and skittered sideways to watch them from under a chair.
“You look…” he cleared his throat. “You look great.”
“Cut the shit,” Katie snapped. “I look like death warmed over because I’m sick as hell.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear–”
“You’ve got three seconds to explain why you’re here before I yak all over you and then let Rupert cut you to shreds.”
“Rupert?”
“The cat, dumbass. Now spill it.”
Steven’s smile slid right off his face, and any trace of the sweet boy she’d first met in college disappeared completely. In their time together he’d changed, let competition twist his ambitions and turn him into a jealous and petty prick. She watched him through narrowed eyes as Steven waltzed into her small living room and spun, nodding and pursing his lips while he scrutinized her living space.
