Rumors: Allison & Zane

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Rumors: Allison & Zane Page 2

by Rachael Brownell


  Then she's gone. Her words linger in the air, attempting to strangle me.

  We're lying to our friends. By doing so, I'm risking not only losing him but my job, my friends, my life.

  The question becomes, is he worth it?

  I think so. What we have is amazing. I've never felt this way for anyone else before. I didn't even realize it was possible to like someone this much. Not only the person they are, but who you are when you're with them.

  Fess up, huh?

  Well, I think she might actually be on to something. But the time hasn't come yet.

  Shooting Zane a text, I let him know what just happened. That our relationship is out there, sort of.

  ZANE: Boarding now. I'll call you as soon as I land.

  ME: Okay. Do you want to tell Hunter?

  ZANE: It might be time. Talk to you in a few hours.

  The next few hours are going to go by slowly. I have to head back out there, sit with my friends, and pretend everything is okay when it's really not. Brianna may be the only person who knows my secret right now, but I'm at her mercy. She could spill it any time she wants.

  "How was girls’ night, aside from your run-in with Brianna?" Zane asks, the commotion in the background making it hard to hear him.

  True to his word, he called me as soon as he was off the plane. I can hear the hustle and bustle of the Miami airport.

  "It was fine. Brianna didn't out us, but there were a few times I thought she might."

  My gut told me to run. To not go back to the table. But I was too afraid Brianna would tell everyone what happened in the bathroom. Either about the rumors or about Zane, and I couldn't let that happen. So I sat in the chair, sipped on a glass of wine, and only spoke when spoken to.

  The topic of conversation... Justine's absence.

  We all tried to call her, and her phone went straight to voicemail. It was a little alarming. There have been very few times she's actually turned her phone off, and usually that's when she lets it die.

  So I did the one thing no one else thought to do. I called Devon.

  His phone went straight to voicemail as well. At least they were probably together. I knew she was leaving town for the weekend. Maybe she forgot her charger. Maybe they want to be alone tonight and she knew we'd blow up her phone wondering where she was.

  I'll have to ask her tomorrow morning when she gets to the office.

  "How long do you think that will last?"

  "Probably not long. If Justine hadn't mysteriously disappeared, the focus would probably have been on the giant hickey on my neck and the mystery man who gave it to me," I joke, but my voice lacks the necessary luster.

  "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't realize I even left a mark. I was all caught up in how good you tasted that I couldn't help myself. That spot, it's just... God, I love that spot. I could suck on it all day long." Zane lets out a growl as I roll my eyes.

  "Well, there will be no more sucking on my neck until winter when I can cover up marks with a turtleneck."

  "Maybe we should tell Hunter. That way I can suck on your neck all the time and leave all the marks I want."

  "Um, no. Hickeys are for teenagers, and we're way beyond those years."

  "But you make me feel like a little kid again. And sucking on your neck is like sucking on candy."

  Damn him for being so quick on his feet. He always has a good comeback for everything I say. It's cute but annoying at the same time.

  "Let's agree to disagree. I still think it might be a good idea to tell Hunter. Ask him not to say anything to anyone else, maybe. We could keep this just between the four of us for now until we're ready to take our relationship public." As the words leave my mouth, I realize how they sound.

  Public. As in, everyone knows.

  It sounds like I'm ashamed of him. Of us. But I'm not. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm so fucking happy I'm afraid someone is going to ruin the good thing we have going.

  Plus, sneaking around is hot.

  Knowing that he's my little secret, that no one knows, or rather knew, about him, turns me on. It makes me want him more.

  "Listen, he's going to freak out. He'll probably call you into his office and give you another lecture. That's how he is. He's protective of his friends and family. In this situation, you're an employee, and friends trump employees. I'm not telling you that to hurt your feelings; it's just the way he operates. I've known Hunter for almost fifteen years. He's the same today as he was when I met him. He's the kind of friend you want on your side, to have your back. He's also caring and forgiving, but it takes him a minute. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to wait? Because I don't think we have that much time. Brianna will tell him if we don't.

  "They don't keep secrets from each other. No one in that family does. Secrets cause more trouble than they're worth. And as much as I love you being my secret, I also don't want to screw up your job or my friendship with Hunter. So, prepare yourself. As soon as you're ready, let me know."

  It's my decision. He's letting me call the shots. And for the first time, that's not what I want.

  In all my relationships, if you can call them that, I've run the show. I've been in charge. I made the decisions. It gave me the power I needed to keep my heart safe.

  My heart feels safe with Zane already. I don't need to control this. I want a balance of power. This needs to be a decision we make together. It affects us both in different ways, but the outcomes could be the same.

  We could lose the battle to be together. He may choose Hunter over me. I may choose my job over him if it comes down to it. I just hope it doesn't.

  Chapter Three

  Mondays are my least favorite day of the week. Usually because I'm going to be busy, and after being off for two days, it takes me a little to get back into the swing of things.

  The fact I'm unable to hide the dark purple spot on my neck with any of the concealers I own starts my day off on the wrong foot. Spilling my coffee down the front of the new dress I bought this weekend confirms how my day is going to go.

  Still, I hold my head high as I step out of the elevator, discard my empty cup in the nearest trash can, and wrap my decorative scarf a little tighter around my neck. Heading straight into the bathroom to clean up, I go over my plan again in my head.

  Talk to Helen. Explain what happened with Brianna and tell her to lie low for a while.

  Call a meeting with the chatterbox twins and fill them in on what went down. Explain they need to keep their distance from me for a while until it blows over.

  Then, I need to find Justine.

  I tried calling her again this morning while I waited in line at the cafe. We usually meet there in the mornings, grab a cup, and head into the office together. She didn't show.

  Straight to her voicemail.

  Again.

  So as I stepped into the elevator, I attempted to text her with one hand. Not as easy as it seemed with a purse and briefcase slipping off your shoulder and coffee in your other hand. When I almost dropped my phone, I reached for it with my empty hand, and the strap of my purse slipped down the arm, knocking into my coffee cup, popping the lid and essentially dumping coffee down the front of me.

  I should have let my phone fall. At least then I'd be dry and my chest wouldn't be sticky from the caramel flavored syrup I ordered in my latte.

  "You're a hot mess this morning," Emerson comments, taking in my appearance as she washes her hands.

  "You have no idea," I mutter, wetting a paper towel and reaching inside my dress to address the sticky situation between my breasts.

  If Zane were here, he'd offer to lick me clean.

  Stop.

  I need to stop thinking like that right now before I get all hot and bothered with no way to satisfy my cravings until this weekend.

  With all the drama going on here, I'm going to Miami instead of him coming up here again. I've never been before, so I'm excited to see the city. That's if we leave his house. We never leave mine, but then ag
ain, there are people here we're trying to avoid.

  "I have some detergent wipes in my office if you want a few. It might help get the coffee out so it doesn't stain," she offers.

  "Thanks. I'll swing by and get them in a minute."

  "Of course."

  Emerson leaves me to clean myself up. As soon as she's gone, I slide my finger across my screen to finish texting Justine.

  ME: At the office. Where are you? Your phone keeps going to voicemail. Call me when you get this.

  If her phone is off, she won't get the message until she turns it back on. When she does, at least she'll know I've been trying to get in touch with her. That I'm worried about her. We all are.

  ME: Spilled coffee all over my new dress and now my boobies are covered in sticky syrup.

  ZANE: Are you trying to turn me on right now because that's just mean.

  ME: Maybe.

  ZANE: You'll pay for that this weekend. I'll make you show me everywhere the syrup was and lick you clean.

  I knew it.

  ME: It'll be gone by then.

  ZANE: Not if I dump more on you just so I can lick it off.

  ZANE: Okay, we need to change the subject because I have a meeting with a client in ten minutes and my dick is hard right now.

  ME: I'd help you out with that if I could.

  ZANE: Visual images of you helping me are not HELPING me.

  ME: Okay, okay. Sorry. Go, meet with your client. Text me later.

  He replies with an emoji of a winking face, a heart, and a kissy face. Not sure what that means put together, but it does make me want to kiss him, so I reply with that emoji.

  "Hey," I say as I walk into Emerson and Justine's office, noticing Justine's absence. I half-expected to see her sitting in her chair, ready with an excuse as to why she hasn't been answering her phone.

  It broke. She lost it. Ran it over with her car. Something.

  "Where's Justine?" I ask, taking a seat across from Emerson.

  "Not sure. She sent me a text saying she needed the day off for something. We're slow right now, so I gave it to her." Reaching into her desk, Emerson produces a stack of individual wipes and hands them to me.

  "What else did she say?"

  "Nothing. That was it. I didn't even get a reply back."

  "Somethings going on with her," I say, more to myself than as a response to Emerson.

  "Whatever it is, I'm sure she's fine. Maybe they didn't make it back in town? Where did she say they were going anyway?"

  "She didn't; that's the thing. Just casually mentioned they were headed out of town for a few days and said she'd see me last night. She seemed excited about something, but I was rushing home so I didn't ask. I told her to have fun and to call me when she got back."

  Rushing to the airport is more like it. Zane's plane landed at four thirty on Friday, and it was close to five o'clock before I left the office. It wasn't that I didn't want to keep him waiting. I was ready to see him. This weekend relationship shit sucks. You think about them all day, every day. You dream about them at night. Then the weekend arrives, and you can't get to them fast enough.

  I almost got pulled over on the way to the airport. I ran two red lights, and I would have run a third if I hadn't seen the cop sitting in the parking lot of the gas station. Not only was I going double the speed limit and had to slam on my breaks, but I barely stopped in time. My front end was sticking out into the intersection. I'm surprised he didn't pull me over just to see why I was driving so erratically.

  And that was just the few blocks I had to drive in the city. The highway is a different story. I was passing people on the right and left like I was in a Nascar race.

  "Well, she said she'll be in tomorrow for sure, so you can find out what's up with her then."

  Or she could text her best friend and fill her in on her whereabouts.

  I can think of a million things she could be up to. Knowing Devon is probably with her, it all involves being behind closed doors.

  What if...

  I stop myself from pondering any further as I take a seat at my desk and power up my computer. If I start wondering, my mind will produce the rumors I'm supposed to stop spreading. For now, anyway. Which reminds me, I didn't see Helen when I walked in this morning.

  Looking to where she normally is perched, I find her chair empty. In fact, it doesn't look like she's come in yet today. Her coffee mug isn't on her desk. Her favorite pen that's normally sitting next to her message pad isn't anywhere to be seen. Neither is the message pad.

  "She took the day off," Ryder says from behind me. "It's the first time she's called in since I've worked here. Hell, she's only taken one vacation, and even then, she tried to come in a few days to make sure things were going okay."

  Helen is the face of the company, no matter what anyone thinks. She's the first person clients interact with. She welcomes them as they arrive and thanks them as they leave. It's her job to make sure they're comfortable while they wait and field their calls when they need something.

  "It's weird not having her here. The office feels empty."

  "Agreed. Let's get started, shall we. We have a busy week ahead of us. Three new clients and a few projects we need to finish up."

  Following Ryder into his office, I take a seat and place my legal pad in my lap, my pen poised and ready. He begins listing tasks, and I write them down diligently, making sure to include which client needs which thing. I'll prioritize once I have everything, make adjustments as needed, and fill Ryder's calendar this afternoon.

  This is a normal Monday for me.

  Meet with the boss. Take notes. Figure his shit out. Make the rest of the week run smoothly.

  What I don't plan on is Hunter walking in during our meeting. Or him requesting my help on a few matters of his own. He really should hire his own assistant. Not that he needs much, but still.

  Then there's the fact that Kimmie runs past Ryder's office sounding like she's about to puke.

  Macie pops her head in to let us know Kimmie is, in fact, sick and needs to go home. And they rode together so she needs to take her but doesn't have a way to get back since her car is in the shop.

  Which leaves just me. Manning the entire office.

  From the front desk to all the executives.

  I don't take a lunch break. I couldn't have if I wanted to. With everyone taking different lunch hours, to ensure someone is always in the office, I'm constantly fielding clients with meetings or phone calls or updating someone's calendar.

  In fact, it's not until Emerson and Ryder come back from lunch that I'm able to use the bathroom, begging Emerson to watch the front desk for five minutes. She has a meeting, her only one of the day, so that's about all the time I have. She used to be an assistant. She can handle it for a minute.

  I just need to decompress. To breathe.

  As I relieve my bladder of the little bit of coffee I drank this morning, I silently cry. Leaning my head against the wall of the bathroom stall, I actually consider giving up. Grabbing my purse and leaving. Not looking back.

  It would solve so many problems right now.

  I wouldn't have to worry about Hunter firing me over Zane. I wouldn't be pulled in eight different directions with a phone cord wrapped around my body. Yes, that actually happened earlier. I'm not used to talking on an actual phone. I got all twisted up and flustered and almost fell flat on my face.

  Leaving, giving up, would probably create more problems than it would solve, though. Quitting usually does.

  So I wash my hands, wipe away the tears, and straighten my back.

  Looking at myself in the mirror, I lift my chin and give myself a pep talk.

  "You are strong. You can handle anything. It might suck right now, but tomorrow is a new day. You've got this."

  I almost believe it too. Until I walk back into the lobby to find clients waiting, no one at the desk, and the phone ringing off the hook.

  Running sounds like the better option right now.

&n
bsp; And maybe a glass of wine and some chocolate to make me feel better about life.

  When I round the corner of the desk, I notice my phone it lit up and Zane's handsome face is smiling at me. As much as I want to answer his call, I don't have time to talk to him right now. I need to get this office under control, which means I need to take charge.

  "Sorry about your wait, gentlemen," I say to the three men staring at me, waiting to be helped. "If you'd like to take a seat, I'll be with you in just a moment."

  Picking up the receiver of the phone, I hang it back up, ending the incessant ringing. Then, I head into Ryder's office to sort this shit out.

  "So I can do this by myself, but I don't want to," I start before realizing that Tyler and Vinnie are both in there. The only person missing is Hunter. I might as well shoot myself in the head.

  "What's wrong?" Ryder asks, sounding more confused than concerned.

  "There is one of me, five of you, and I'm doing everything. I don't get paid enough to do the job of this many people, and I shouldn't be expected to."

  Vinnie and Tyler share a look before turning their gaze to Ryder, who's staring at me in shock.

  "Um, okay. What do you need?" he asks.

  "The three of you to answer the damn phone for starters. You're all sitting in here waiting for me to bring your clients in. Come get them yourselves. I'd like to get started on the list of things you asked me to do this morning. You know, my job!"

  I didn't mean to yell. I wasn't trying to be a bitch. But, in the end, it got shit accomplished. Emerson took over the front desk after her meeting. The guys stepped up and helped out answering the phones, and I got to sit at my desk for the last hour of the day and just do my job.

  That's when I hear my phone ringing and realize I left it on Helen's desk. Where Emerson is stationed.

 

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