by Wild, Bella
Shopping was not a frequent pastime—I would only cave on trips to the designer outlet malls when my bestie Eva nagged and guilt-tripped me continually. Today, I did not mind it at all.
I felt like hearing Eva’s voice again, so I phoned her up.
“Hi Rachel,” she answered.
“Eva it’s me…oh…geez,” I rolled my eyes when it hit me she was teasing about my alias. “Haha, good one.”
“So how is Johnny doing?”
“Pretty good.”
“I still can’t believe you’re dating that rock god. Where is he? Can I say hi?”
I giggled. “He’s not with me right now.”
“Well call me back when he is. Anyway, how is Vegas?”
“How do you know that’s where I am?”
“Pffft. Seriously? Girl, you and Johnny superstar are all over the internet. That little bump and grind dance you two did at Whiskey River has had a few hundred thousand YouTube views overnight. Never mind the all-out clash fighting that broke out.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. I would be naïve to think something so sensational could stay under wraps. “Well it is what it is.”
“Be warned, though, Amanda. The more people who see that, the more likely you’ll be made. But at least then you can tell me what’s really going on, because it’s clear to me there’s more than dating going on.”
I ignored the comment. “So how are you?”
“Same ole stuff, hun. What are you doing? I’m hearing all sorts of noise in the background.”
“I’m shopping.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. I must be channeling you, hun. I’m walking into all the stores and everything looks perfect for me.”
“You’re messing with me, right?”
“No, really. I almost bought us matching Stetsons.”
She erupted in a roar of laughter. “And where the hell are we going to wear that in Miami, missy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s all the plaid and spurs I’ve been seeing around here that has me feeling for a little country fashion flair.”
“Okay,” she said, laughing. “I’d try anything once with you.”
“Good. Then I’m going back for them.”
The phone chirped a reminder that the battery was critically low. Somewhere between Johnny telling me I was his and rocking my world, I had forgotten to connect it to the charger last night. I smiled. It was totally worth it. I told Eva I would call her back later, and dropped it back into by handbag.
After my brief foray into Las Vegas shopping was over, I returned to the hotel suite, armed with a few more bags than I had planned. Back inside, I ordered room service for lunch. I relaxed as I waited for the meal, stretched out on a lounge chair in the large enclosed sundeck attached to the living room. The food arrived soon enough, and after it was finished, I moved to the corner of a large sectional couch in the living room, and pulled my phone out of my pocket to catch up on emails. It was dead. I went to the bedroom and hooked it up at the night table. I tapped the power button on my phone, but nothing happened. I tried again and the screen flickered on and then shut down again.
I assumed the battery needed some extra charge before it would turn on. I left my tablet in LA, so I was temporarily disconnected. Bummer. I set the phone down on the night table and decided to check messages later. I was about to return to the living room when I noticed Johnny’s tablet laying on the office desk near the window. He had probably left it out when he had come back to the room for his old song lyrics. I figured he would not mind if I used it. I grabbed it and took it with me to the living room.
I sank back against the plush couch and turned it on. It powered up right away. The internet browser took me to Johnny’s official website. I scrolled around, checking comments. There was nothing new. While I was looking, a bubble popped up at the bottom of the screen. I tried to hit the tiny ‘x’ to close the bubble, but must have missed. It opened to Johnny’s email inbox.
Two new responses to stonefaceviper79 post.
I slid my finger on the screen to close it out, but a memory stirred. My finger stopped.
Stonefaceviper79. Why did that sound familiar to me?
I tried to figure out where I had heard it before.
Then it hit me…
Horrified, my nervous fingers fumbled over the screen, but eventually, I managed to pull up another browser tab and log into my own social media page. There it was, staring back at me…
Johnny was stonefaceviper79—my biggest fan.
My body went ice cold. I started to shake. The lunch that had been so enjoyable turned into a wave of nausea. No wonder he had known what cookies I like, and from what bakery, I thought, mentally connecting the dots. The room was spinning, or maybe it was my head. I frantically scrolled through all of my past posts. I had never shared anything too intimate on my pages—there were a lot of weirdos in the world. Still, there were little sprinkles of me and my private life scattered all throughout.
And Johnny knew it all.
Oh. My. God.
I dropped the tablet to my lap. My fingers clutched the edge of the couch cushion. All the pieces fit together now. I could see everything. The web of clues he dropped along the way all joined. It all made sense. The hints culminated in a whopping, anguish-filled realization.
This assignment was a sham.
Johnny did not hire me for my capabilities as a security professional.
But why?
Shit. I had made some “pity me” post on my blog about wanting to break free and start my own security firm. The new realization sent me over the edge. I folded forward, trying to catch my breath and keep from throwing up.
I was still reeling when I head the click of the front door opening. I grabbed the tablet and made a mad dash for the bedroom. I rushed inside and shut the door behind me. I lay against it, panting for a moment, my heart racing from more than just the exertion of the scramble. I locked the door and sat on the edge of the bed, tracking back through all Johnny’s stonefaceviper79 messages on my social media page…all the way to the beginning.
The first message he had responded to was dated three years earlier. He had been following me on social media for three years.
“Oh my God…oh my God…” I was hyperventilating.
I didn’t know whether to scream, throw the tablet against the wall, run to the bathroom and throw up, or wait for Johnny to get home, put him in a headlock, and demand answers.
I was Paralyzed. Frozen. Numb.
Pretty soon, that dull, shell-shocked feeling turned to something between heartbreak and rage.
Until someone knocked on the door.
To Be Continued
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