Catching Caitlin

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Catching Caitlin Page 5

by Amy Isan


  A determined look glazed his eyes, and his rock-steady hands controlled the machine like he had always known it. Personally, privately. That kind of intimacy was alluring.

  We sped up the highway, heading into downtown Reno. I didn’t protest his driving, if anything, I relished it.

  It wasn’t the frantic and terrifying driving of a teenager, it was the controlled speed of a race car driver. I swallowed my spit and tried to rest my head against the seat, restraining myself from taking advantage of his focus.

  “I thought you were going to granny-drive it like in Maine.”

  He laughed, “Granny-drive? Never, I only did that because I was nervous you’d run away.”

  “You? Nervous? I don’t believe that.”

  “Really.” He slipped the car into fifth gear, and we coasted along at a breezy 70 miles per hour.

  “Are you going to get into trouble for bringing me to your office?”

  “No. And you don’t have to hang out in the conference room anyway. It’ll be about boring budget concerns and planning mostly.”

  He switched to the left lane, passing all the slower traffic. I got the distinct sensation that even if we passed a cop, Hugh wouldn’t get pulled over. Did rich people have immunity? Maybe they did.

  “There it is, Silver Energy.” He pointed out at one of the taller buildings in the Reno skyline. They were all impressive compared to Bangor, so I wasn’t shocked to see that our destination was one of the bigger ones.

  Metal and glass were the dominating materials of the building, with a large blue and silver logo emblazoned on the side of the skyscraper.

  “Why the name?”

  “Nevada is the silver state.”

  We pulled into a parking garage, one that was below ground. Hugh swiped his security badge, which let us in.

  He pulled into a parking stall and shut the car off. After climbing out, he came over to my side to let open my door.

  “Always a gentleman, huh?” I took his hand.

  “It would be a bit more romantic if we were going out to dinner. A business meeting doesn’t really cut it you know.”

  I nodded. “What about tomorrow?”

  He scratched his cheek and looked at his hand, maybe surprised that he hadn’t shaved. “That could work. Let me look into it. Follow me.”

  We went through a door and into the main lobby of the building. They must’ve leased the building out, because there was a directory of other companies and businesses at the entrance. He swiped his badge to call the elevator.

  The extra-wide steel doors opened, and we slipped into the mirrored elevator.

  “I looked it up,” he continued, “and I guess Nevada was the center of the silver rush in the 19 century. We pioneered that whole concept.”

  We. He already was attached to the state, not that I could blame him. It definitely had some charm.

  Silver Energy’s floor was impressive. We were greeted by a huge wall with the Silver Energy logo hung against it.

  On the other side of the wall was a row of cubicles, facing a wall of offices. Those were obviously the real deal. The conference room was in the back. A number of people were already milling around the large table at the room’s center.

  “They always start early. Have you ever heard of a company that has meetings early?” He sighed. “They might be annoyed that I’m late already, so maybe you should hang out outside for now. There are magazines and drinks in my office. It’s the one in the corner.” His office was easy to spot, it had his name etched on the glass door. “Here.” He handed me his key, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  I blushed, watching him disappear into the conference room. I held the key gingerly, as if it might break. I suddenly felt out of place without him next to me.

  Here I was, standing in a wealthy office, wearing yesterday’s wrinkled clothes. No make-up, nothing.

  A couple of other employees were still in their cubicles, either not invited to the meeting or not going. I made my way to Hugh’s office and quickly jammed the key into the lock.

  It was clean and minimalistic inside. I wondered if his house would have the same kind of sterility.

  His office kind of reminded me of his hotel room. That sparse, barely welcoming feeling.

  I sat down at his desk, and pretended like I was working for his company.

  “Yes, come sit down, I have to talk to you,” I mimed what I imagined an executive would say. I gestured to an invisible person to sit down across from me.

  I looked down at a stack of blank paper, and shuffled them. “Going by your reports, I’m gonna have to let you go,” I said, making my voice sound cold. “Now now, there is a severance package...”

  I grew bored of ruining imaginary lives. I riffled through his drawers: pens, some issues of Forbes, nothing super exciting in the top three.

  But the last drawer had something more for me. Underneath a stack of folders, I pulled out a downturned picture.

  A blonde woman was in it, smiling. The corner was dog eared, and it looked like it was a couple years old.

  I stared at it, not being able to put my finger on her. She looked familiar, somehow.

  His wife?

  Why was she in the bottom of his desk?

  I took the picture, and set it on his desk. She was pretty, powdered freckles on her cheeks and nose, with blue eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive. A cold shiver shocked me.

  His office had a large window facing into the building, which meant I could watch the conference from afar. Hugh was standing at the front of the long table and gesturing wildly, as if he were making some point. I could see his wedding band glint, and I felt sick.

  Why was the picture tucked away in his desk? Shouldn’t it be in a picture frame if it was his wife?

  ***

  About an hour passed, and things looked like they were finally wrapping up. People in the conference room were standing to shake each others’ hands. Some people laughed and Hugh smacked someone on the back. He left the conference room and snuck into his office.

  I leaned back in his chair and propped my feet up on his desk. I didn’t know if I wanted to bring up the picture immediately or not. Maybe I should let him bring it up. After all, if it has anything to do with his wedding band, he said he’d tell me.

  “Mmm, you look delicious,” he said, under his breath. His eyes danced over me. “Feet up on my desk and everything? Getting it all dirty.”

  “How’d it go?” I asked, a smile crossing my face.

  “Good, pretty quick if you could believe it. You weren’t too bored were you?

  I shook my head, my hair tickling me. “Maybe a little.”

  “You want to meet the guys and gals that run Silver Energy?”

  “Sure, let’s do a little meet and greet.” He turned on his heel and left his office. I took the picture and slid it in my pocket. I don’t know why, but I felt like I had to.

  ***

  To some relief, he introduced me as an old friend. Which wasn’t inaccurate. We hadn’t even really fooled around yet. It would have been weirder to tell everyone I was his high school sweetheart.

  Most of his coworkers were pretty bland and boring. Nothing too memorable about any of them, except for their strong handshakes. The only one that stuck out to me was Scott, Hugh’s boss.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Caitlin. So, how did you two meet?” His voice was deep. The kind of voice that could fill a room, and a body to suit it.

  “We actually dated in high school.”

  “Oh? So the truth comes out eh?” Scott smiled, giving a side glance to Hugh. “You didn’t go to college together?”

  College, I didn’t want to be reminded of that disaster just yet. While I clammed up, Hugh interjected.

  “No. We split up after high school. She went to the University of Maine, and I already had plans to go to the University of Chicago.”

  “Well you know what they say about high school love...” Scott trailed off. He cleared his throat and exte
nded his hand to me again. “Well it was nice to meet you Ms...?”

  “Winters.”

  “Ms. Winters. Sounds like I’ll be seeing you around, if we keep this guy working for us!” He laughed.

  “We should get home, unpack our things. We just landed this morning,” Hugh said.

  “You don’t need to tell me, get out of here then!” Scott walked away, disappearing into his office.

  ***

  Downstairs, in the parking lot, I asked about Hugh’s boss.

  “Scott seems nice.”

  “Scott huh? He’s a funny guy,” Hugh said, “I would never had gotten this job if it wasn’t for his sense of humor. I mean you gotta have one to hire a fresh-faced kid out of an internship.”

  We climbed back into his Porsche. “I wish I had more time to prepare, I didn’t know I’d be meeting all your coworkers.”

  “I think you look great,” he said. “I love that no-makeup look.”

  “Ha-ha, nice try. Everyone says they don’t like girls with tons of makeup, until they see one without any.”

  “But I’m serious.” He caught my attention, and put his hand on my leg.

  I grinned, taking his hand off my leg. I didn’t want him to get too frisky in the car. “Where’s your condo?”

  He didn’t seem phased by my rejection. “Just across town, a bit more secluded than downtown. Some of the employees work and live in this building.”

  “Why don’t you do that?” I touched the dash. “I mean, besides not getting to use your toy?”

  He shook his head, “I’d never get any work done. The commute makes it real, you know.”

  “Makes going home real, makes going to work real. It sounds dumb, but I need it,” he finished.

  I could see that, needing that kind of routine. He pulled out of the garage, the attendant waving to him cheerfully.

  ***

  His condo was beautiful.

  “Wow...” my jaw dropped open as he closed the front door. I took my shoes off. Hugh walked past me, grinning, and disappeared into a room.

  I really expected it to be more bare like his office, but it was lavishly decorated. It was filled with paintings and flowers. Rugs covered the hardwood floors, real hardwood floors. I felt like sliding around in my socks it looks so shiny.

  A crystal chandelier adorned the dining room, and almost every wall in the house was painted some color. The kitchen had polished white countertops with red walls. The dining room had a deep purple hue, which made it feel kind of dreamy.

  I padded down the hallway, finding him in his bedroom. A comfortable looking queen bed dominated the room, four wooden posts jutting up from each corner. It seemed like hundreds of throw pillows were dumped all over it. He had put the bags on the bed, and was out on the balcony.

  I got a peek into the bathroom: flashes of gold with mirror finishes. I wondered if it had a claw foot tub.

  I walked up beside him on the balcony.

  “I’m really impressed. After seeing your office, that you have throw pillows.”

  “It’s the little things that matter, Cay,” he teased. He stared off over the city. This side was a lot quieter. His view was mostly desert and sagebrush, which had its own kind of beauty. Like a desert ocean. The sun almost seemed to glow against the landscape.

  I bit my lip. I could feel the picture of the blonde woman burning a hole in my pocket, and the question was aching to be let free.

  It wasn’t until then that I realized I was terrified of the answer.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I could make us something.”

  Some relief from my mind. “You cook too? Do you have any other super powers?”

  “You might think I have super powers after I make you some mean burgers.”

  “A wealthy man who cooks burgers,” I said with a smile.

  He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Come on, you can help me.”

  He walked into the kitchen and flipped the light on. While I had noticed the white counters, I didn’t see that the backsplash was made up of thousands of glittering seashells.

  “Seashells huh? I didn’t peg you as a sentimental type,” I said. He pulled out a slab of hamburger from the fridge and set it on the counter.

  “What makes you think that?” He washed his hands, and pulled an apron off a hook inside the pantry. “I can be very sentimental. If I want to be. Especially about my home-state.”

  I prodded his ribs, making him flinch. He stepped away from the sink, giving me room to wash my hands, but not quite enough. I giggled as I tried to squeeze past him, noticing his attention shift when our arms touched.

  “Hmm,” he murmured. He tied his apron. I had never seen a man in an apron before. There was something alluring about a man who could cook.

  He smacked the ball of beef, then started unwrapping it from its white paper. I stood near him, hovering and feeling in the way.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “You could hand me a cutting board.” He pointed across the kitchen, toward the island. “Should be under there.”

  I leaned over, peering in the cavity under the island. The sound of him smacking the meat stopped, and I could tell he wasn’t paying attention to that anymore.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  “You smell enchanting,” he whispered, almost as if I wasn’t supposed to hear it. I pretended to not hear him, and found the cutting board.

  I straightened myself out, but slower than I needed to. I was surprised how much of a kick I was getting out of this.

  “The things I want to do to you,” he growled.

  “Oh yeah? What kinds of things?” I handed him the cutting board, and he set it on the counter without turning around.

  “We have this nice kitchen counter here, and it just seems so empty without you bent over it, you know?

  Now he had my interest. We hadn’t done much but make out, and now he was dirty talking me.

  “Go on...” I gave him a devilish smile.

  He grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to him as he spoke. “Like, choke you and hold you down, while I fuck you from behind.”

  My mouth was parched. “What else?”

  “You’d beg for me,” he turned and put the hamburger on the cutting board. “Beg for me to keep going.”

  He took a piece of beef and smashed it down into a patty. I was bewildered, this was a completely different side of him coming out.

  Hugh flattened out the rest of the beef into patties. “Two enough for you?”

  “Two? That’s more than enough.” I didn’t want to waste too much time eating.

  “Of course we are.” He put the patties on a plate and carried it out to the balcony.

  He had a small grill hidden in the corner. He lifted the aluminum lid, revealing a spotless cage of wires. A pyramid of charcoals were already stacked up, ready to be lit.

  I crossed my arms, suspicious. “You want me to believe you had this already clean and ready to go?”

  “What’s not to believe?” he set the plate down, and went to work on lighting the charcoals. “I always clean my grill right after I use it. Why deal with cleaning it later?”

  “I guess so. Maybe I’m just lazy then.”

  “Maybe you are,” he said, a smirk on his face. He got the charcoals lit and we waited for them to ash over. After a few moments of gazing at the landscape together, he turned and gingerly placed each of the patties on the metal mesh.

  I sat down in one of his chairs on the balcony, giving up on helping. I was pretending to stare over the barren landscape, but he was much more interesting.

  How did I not notice before, how tight his ass was? My mouth was watering, ever since our talk in the kitchen, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him pinning me down and fucking the lights out of me. Just his smooth skin, touching mine. The warmth of him filling me up.

  When he was satisfied with the flame, he replaced the lid on the grill. He didn’t move to sit down next to me, but inst
ead opted to lean over the railing and study the horizon.

  The sun was low in the sky. Orange and pink hues, like water colors, filled the horizon. I could just barely make out a star twinkling above us, or was it a planet? I never could remember.

  The orange glow didn’t have any trouble cascading over the sage and dry land, illuminating long and sickly shadows. They almost seemed to creep right up to our balcony.

  “I hate to say this about Nevada,” I said. “But it is beautiful.”

  “I seem to remember you saying you never thought of landscapes were beautiful.”

  I frowned at him. “I said that about cities, and I’m still not convinced with Reno.”

  “Fair enough,” he chuckled. He closed the lid on the grill when the heat was just right.

  The burgers started sizzling, the smell of smoke and coals rose into the air.

  I pointed at the grill. “Was that just plain hamburger you pulled out?”

  “No, I had already rubbed and mixed in my spice blend. I couldn’t say I made mean burgers if I just made plain-jane ones, could I?” He inhaled deeply, before stepping back and joining me in the balcony chairs. He reached over and grasped my hand.

  Hand holding felt so intimate. There was this sense of comfort to it, a sense of security.

  The burgers were delicious. I only had to take one bite to know that Hugh didn’t screw around when he made claims. The meat was perfectly juicy, a bit of spice accented each bite, with a good fulfilling flavor.

  After finishing my first, I picked up my second burger a little embarrassed at how much I craved it.

  “I knew you’d want two. No one can have just one of my burgers.”

  As I started into my second burger, it dawned on me. This house was the one Hugh had with his wife. Maybe that’s why the decorations were so much more lavish. Did she run away with another man?

  I checked Hugh out again, seeing if I could detect what could cause a woman to run away from him. I couldn’t.

  ***

  When we finished eating, I offered to take the plates in, since I knew he’d want to clean his grill.

  While I washed the plates and scrubbed the cutting board, I stared at the sea-shelled backsplash. What kind of person was she?

 

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