Exposed to You (Overexposed)

by Andra Lake

“Hey Ames,” he said, putting an arm around me. “I heard you got a temporary job and a place. Congrats!”

  “Thanks,” I said, squeezing him back. “I’m pretty excited to be doing my own thing, you know?”

  “Yeah totally,” Luke said before messing up my hair.

  I helped them carry boxes down to his parents’ SUV. After the last box, Sam said she would come right back, but I told her not to worry about it.

  “Enjoy the new place. I have to be at work early tomorrow anyway.”

  Tears pricked her eyes and we hugged again.

  “I’ll see you on Saturday for the move,” she said before climbing in into the car.

  Back in our student apartment, I felt alone for the first time. Even the loss of Sam’s boxes made me feel sad and sentimental. I closed the door to her room without looking inside, and then went to my own room to crash.

  My room was also half-packed, but the bed was still together and I had sheets and clothes for the next few days. I leaned up against the headboard of my bed and scrolled through my phone, checking my Facebook and Email. I sat up bolt right when I saw I had a message from the numbered email. Dallon King.

  Dear Miss Clair,

  I want to apologize for how our meeting went down the other day. I understand your concerns and wish to assure you that I will not be selling the pictures. They are safe with me. You are very beautiful and I feel privileged to have been able to take your picture.

  It was wonderful to have met you,

  —D.

  I stared at the email for a few moments. He was trying to be nice and reassure me, or else make me back down, but it wasn’t going to work. In fact, it just made me angrier. I quickly wrote a response and sent it back.

  Dear D, that does little to make me feel better at this point. What kind of a person keeps pictures of a sensitive nature against someone’s wishes? I will be reporting your ad so that other women can’t get tricked by you in the future.

  I wish I had never met you,

  —A.

  I hit send and lay down on the bed, crossed my arms. There. I felt better. I wasn’t going to be able to sue his rich ass, but I didn’t have to put up with his fake pleasantries either.

  I decided a bubble bath was in order to help me get my mind off things. My candles were still lining the tub, so I lit them while the bath filled and plugged my iPhone into the player. Soon classical music filled the bathroom and I settled into the warm water with my book.

  An hour later, I wrapped a towel around myself and pulled my phone out of the player. As I walked to my room to change into pajamas, I noticed that King Douche had responded to my email. Considering his lack of response to my first email, I was surprised. Wasn’t my last one clear enough for him? I clicked on the email to open it.

  Dear A, I have no desire to fill the position with anyone but you, so don’t worry about future women. Your position is safe with me.

  I would be careful not to anger me, though. This is what might happen if you do.

  I scrolled down and almost dropped my phone. At the bottom of the page was a picture, but not just any picture.

  It was the picture he took right after he spanked me.

  Chapter Four

  “That asshole!” I swore and threw my phone across the bed.

  How dare he?

  I sunk down on the bed, feeling like I was no longer stuck in a dream—I was stuck in a nightmare. A crazy man—a man I didn’t even know—had just sent me a photo of myself after he’d spanked me. And he still thought there was a chance I’d accept his freaky job proposal!

  My hands were shaking with anger. I wanted to rip his throat out. I’d never considered myself to be an angry person before, but Mr. Fucking King was changing me. He was threatening to make me crazy, too.

  Tears burned my eyes and spilled forth onto my cheeks. I sat against the wall with my knees drawn up and stared at the phone like it was a bomb. When my breathing had slowed, I crawled across the bed and picked up the phone carefully, looked at the photo again and blanched. Luckily it was taken from an angle where you couldn’t see between my legs—thong or not—but the red mark from his hand was clearly visible. The plaid skirt was pushed up to my waist and my back was bare except for the line of my black bra. I was facing forward, so my face wasn’t visible, only blond hair falling over a white shoulder.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, and as much as it disgusted me to think it, I did look kind of hot in the photo. Slutty, but hot. I’d never seen myself from that angle before. I did have a pretty nice figure, like past boyfriends had told me, and my butt looked really good in that picture, even with the hand mark. In a way it was kind of sexy…

  Ugh! I quickly closed the email, feeling incredibly guilty and embarrassed. What was wrong with me?

  I changed into my pajamas and turned off the lights, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, thinking about the photo and Dallon King’s piercing grey eyes. Man, he was good looking. It was a shame he was such a nutty bastard. I mean, who did that kind of thing? Maybe an ex-boyfriend, but not a successful business man who didn’t really know someone. Was he in the habit of doing this kind of thing?

  To show him he hadn’t gotten to me, I decided to write him one last email.

  D, leave me alone or I’ll sue you for harassment. Good lawyer or not, a court case like that could tarnish your reputation. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve done as well as you have, being that you’re a complete lunatic.

  Then I turned my phone off and fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of piercing blue eyes and camera shoots.

  ***

  The next day, I tried to pour myself into work, making drinks as fast as possible and keeping the café the tidiest it had ever been. Michelle was highly impressed, but I was still thinking about King Douche. I wondered how he’d reacted when he’d received my email, if it had scared him into leaving me alone or just given him a good laugh. Somehow, I kind of suspected the latter. He acted like a man who was used to getting what he wanted and wasn’t afraid of any repercussions for his actions.

  The worst thing about it was that I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. He was one of the most frustrating, arrogant, messed up people I knew, and for some reason, that fascinated me.

  What did that say about me?

  I checked my email a few times throughout the day, but there was no response. It seemed that he had taken my threat seriously. Good.

  At the end of my shift, I called Jeremy and asked if he wanted to get together for drinks. I needed a distraction and pretending to have met with Jeremy made me realize that I actually missed him. He said some of his co-workers from the law firm he was working with for the summer had taken him to a bar and gave me directions on how to get there. By the time I arrived, they were heading on to the next place, but Jeremy said his goodbyes and stayed with me.

  “So how are things going there?” I asked.

  “I’m glad to have a break for the summer,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “The long hours haven’t started yet and I’m tired of reading textbooks and studying for exams, obviously. Glad this year will be my last. What about you? What are you up to?”

  I hesitated before responding. “I’m okay. I’m a bit worried I won’t find a job in my field and that I have no real life direction other than drawing, but I’m working at a café for now. Moving into my own place on Saturday.”

  Jeremy smiled reassuringly. “You’ll figure it out. There’s no rush to sort out everything now, right? Just take it easy.”

  I smiled. It was nice to be able to tell someone my fears without worrying about burdening them. I loved Sam, but she could be like a worrying mom. Jeremy’s relaxed attitude was exactly what I needed right now.

  I studied him for a moment, wondering if I could ever be attracted to him. He stood just under six feet tall with coppery brown hair that stuck up on different parts of his head, eyes the color of his pupils, and a kind face and lean body. His features were angular, maki
ng him look somewhat Peter Pan-ish, and he’d grown facial hair in an attempt to look older. I didn’t like facial hair. I also didn’t like Jeremy romantically, as much as I tried. He was a great friend and a lot of fun to hang out with, but the idea of kissing him made me queasy.

  Thinking about kissing, my thoughts instantly jumped to Dallon King and what kissing him would be like. Apparently I needed to check myself into a mental hospital.

  “What?” Jeremy asked, giving me a friendly nudge. “You zoned out there. What’s on your mind?”

  I fidgeted under the table. I had never been sure if Jeremy had feelings for me or not or if he just saw us as friends, but it seemed like a good time to let him know how I felt.

  “I don’t know. There’s this guy that’s kind of getting under my skin. He’s this arrogant, successful securities guy and pretty good looking, and he’s been sending me emails.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Sounds like you two have something going on.”

  I sighed. “See, that’s the thing. I’m really angry at him for reasons I can’t really divulge, but at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Passionate young love! Though, you said he’s successful. How old is this ‘guy’?”

  “Um, I’d estimate early to mid-thirties.”

  “Sounds like a cradle robber,” he joked.

  I laughed. “I don’t exactly trust him, anyway. But he’s being very…forward.”

  Jeremy frowned. “Who is this guy?”

  “His name’s Dallon King. He works at—”

  “Yeah, I know who Dallon King is,” Jeremy cut me off. “CEO of Walters King. We—the firm—have worked on some deals with them. I met Dallon once when our firm took him to dinner.” Jeremy sat back and studied me, looking impressed, if not a little confused. “But I wouldn’t say he’s arrogant. If anything, he seems very down-to-earth and…cool.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first.”

  “Maybe you should speak with him and clear the air.”

  “Maybe,” I said, knowing there was no way that would happen.

  “Usually I wouldn’t encourage you to date an older man, but Dallon King is a good guy. He’s very philanthropic—he volunteers a lot and gives to charity. He’s also very well respected and talented.”

  That doesn’t necessarily make him an angel, I thought, but I kept my opinion to myself.

  “A lot of the men in that business can be dicks, but he seems different.”

  Does he? Well, sorry to disappoint you, Jeremy, because that is exactly what he is.

  “And it’s really impressive that he started his own boutique firm at such a young age.”

  I considered changing his nickname to King Dick, but quickly decided against it—he’d probably turn it into a compliment.

  “All right,” Jeremy said and put up his hands, “I can tell that I haven’t convinced you. How about we change the topic to something else?”

  “I’d like that,” I said, and only half meant it. I was dying to ask what else he knew about Dallon King, but at the same time, I really needed to stop thinking about him. For my health.

  “I’ve been seeing someone,” Jeremy smiled. “We’ve just been on a few dates, but I think I might be into her. She works with me.”

  “Nice!” I said, genuinely happy for him. “What’s her name?”

  “Isobel. I think you’d really like her. We’re going out with a few friends tomorrow. Send me a text if you want to come.”

  “I will.”

  Maybe I’d meet a nice, normal guy there, I thought. A lawyer with sexier eyes than King Douche and doesn’t own a camera.

  Chapter Five

  The next day I was working the closing shift. I’d texted Jeremy to let him know I’d call after my shift was done. A half hour before close, Jackson told me he had to make a quick call and went into the back. He’d done this on more than one occasion and the calls were never quick, but I didn’t care. The cafe was empty except for a couple in the corner. They’d asked for refills twice and would most likely stay until close. It seemed like they were in a heated discussion about something, and more than once I’d seen the girl tear up.

  I was watching them when the bell above the door rang. I turned to greet whoever entered but my smile froze on my face, my breath caught.

  “Oh shit.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d said it until he smiled. It was a smile of amusement, one side of his mouth lifting up into a smirk.

  “Pretty much the reception I was expecting,” he said, sauntering in with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He was wearing black jeans tucked casually into boots and a grey dress shirt under his jacket. His dark hair was falling onto his forehead and he had the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow.

  He was stupidly sexy. I really wish I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t deny it. Stupidly sexy and a complete jerk. I stood rooted to my spot behind the cash register, watching him approach, my hands grasping the ties of my apron.

  “How?” I said in a voice I was surprised he could hear.

  “Your friend...” he thought about it for a moment, waved his hand absently. “Jeremy. Nice kid.”

  Jeremy. I was going to kill him.

  Dallon King stopped in front of the counter and looked down at me with his smug smile. “He said that you missed me. Were losing nights of sleep just thinking about me.”

  “He did not.”

  He chuckled. “No, he said you’d told him about me. Said I should come by and see where you work. You’re not upset are you?” He made a sad face that might have been funny if I weren’t completely on edge. I couldn’t deny it; as much as I hated him, it was a rush just being in his presence.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. King?”

  “What do you think? And call me Dallon. We’re not in a working relationship.” His tone grew hard at the last sentence, and I swallowed.

  “So, you’re a server now,” he said, smiling with one side of his mouth. He tilted the basket of cookies toward him, rummaged through and pulled out a peanut butter one.

  “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” I asked, smiling prettily.

  “None at all,” he smiled easily. “Though, I wish you were serving me.”

  It took me a moment to understand his meaning. “What?”

  “What?” he asked back, wide-eyed. Mocking me.

  I glared at him. “I’m not a prostitute.”

  “So you’ve mentioned. And I’m not a John, despite what you think.”

  I bit my tongue and crossed my arms, waiting for him to get to the point of his visit. As if reading my mind, he narrowed his eyes and his tone turned serious.

  “We need to talk. I’m used to getting what I want, Amy. Your email didn’t scare me out of contacting you again, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, but I didn’t appreciate it.”

  His eyes bore into mine and I almost gulped. I looked toward the back of the cafe. Why was Jackson taking so long?

  “I think you should apologize.”

  I whipped my head back to Dallon, my mouth agape. “I think you should apologize!”

  “Interesting,” he said, unwrapping the cookie and then biting into it, licking his lips sensually. “I believe we’re at a standstill.”

  I glared at him. “Well I’m sorry you’re used to getting what you want and I know your act probably works on every other female in the world, but—”

  “My act?” He cut me off, frowning.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, your act. Acting all arrogant and sexy and practically demanding that women have sex with you.” I lowered my voice at the last bit.

  “This isn’t demanding. Believe me, you’d know demanding.”

  “Whatever. The point is I just see you for who you really are: an arrogant bastard that doesn’t care about anyone else.”

  He stepped back, and I was pretty sure I had actually wounded him. “Jeez, you’re vicious. And here I thought yo
u were the timid new graduate that wanted to please me.”

  My cheeks heated and I balled my hands into fists, took a deep, steadying breath. “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want,” he winked, “but for now I’ll just take a coffee.”

  “You’re staying?”

  “Yeah. Why not?” He slapped a five down on the counter saying, “Keep the change”, and then strolled over to an empty table, where he sat down and picked up a discarded newspaper.

  I picked up a mug, my hands shaking with anger or nervousness, maybe both. All we had left at that time of the night was the medium brew. I filled his coffee and carried it over to him.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking the mug without looking at me. Apparently he was now engrossed in the newspaper. As soon as I was back at the counter, however, he asked quite loudly, “So did you find a place to live?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s great news. Whereabouts?”

  Clenching my jaw, I returned to his table so that I didn’t have to talk across the cafe in front of the couple. “I’m not telling you that.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

  I sighed. “What do you want, Mr. King? I mean, why are you here?”

  “I said to call me Dallon. Sit, and I’ll tell you.”

  Right then, Jackson came out from the back.

  “So sorry. I just had to call a buddy about tonight,” he said. He looked from me to Dallon King and back. I could feel the tension radiating from us, and the look on Jackson’s face said he felt it, too.

  “Maybe I’ll start cleaning up,” I said, moving to return to work.

  “No, you visit your friend. I’ll start,” Jackson said, turning his back to me before I could give him the evil eye. He began pulling pastries from the display case, conveniently avoiding my look.