2
There was a fleeting moment of silence like he was walking to a new area.
“No, it’s not that. I am in Kauai.” Bradley’s deep, husky voice rumbled through the phone.
“Wait, you’re visiting?” I still had the expectation that he’d be back in San Diego at some point.
“I’ve decided to move here.”
I couldn’t help but feel a punch in my gut. I’d wanted him to be closer than that. Kauai, it was beautiful, known to be the Garden Isle and the greenest of all Hawaiian Islands, but it was also rural and remote. But what led to this decision? He built custom cars for a living and now it seemed like he had no interest in that anymore. It wasn’t something he could do on a large scale there.
“What about you and your ex-wife?” I couldn’t hold back the question any longer.
He went silent for a moment, his voice dropping lower when he finally responded. It was rich and gravelly, like he was carefully weighing his words. “She’s moved on, and I realized that I have too.” The words felt final, but his tone carried an undercurrent of something more—a quiet, unresolved pain.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady but still tinged with a trace of exhaustion, “my godfather lives here. He invited me to help with his construction project. He’s a retired owner of a successful IT business in California. And I liked it enough to stay. It’s home now.”
I wanted to say something encouraging, but it still came as a huge disappointment. After so many changes, this was just another one to get used to. But I couldn’t be selfish. If this was right for him, it was right for me.
“I hope you visit me in time. What about your shop? Are you selling it then?”
“I’ll have a couple guys run it for now, then we’ll see.” He left it open-ended.
I guessed there was always a chance he’d reconsider.
“You know, Valentina keeps asking me when the hot Hawaiian guy will come back,” I teased him with a half-truth. She’d used a way raunchier term to inquire about Bradley. My best girlfriend from college, a former model, had relocated to California to start a now successful clothing brand called Poshbabe Boutique , and never looked back.
“Tell her she can come here and keep me company anytime,” he responded, his voice low and inviting, a familiar warmth in the way he said it. His tone made it sound like he was grinning, even though I couldn’t see him.
It seemed like a serious offer, especially since Bradley wasn’t one to joke around. Hardly anyone ever turned down Valentina, unless she wasn’t their type. At least he wasn’t so heartsick as to dwell on it—thankfully, that was a relief. His casual response gave me the sense that he was finding a way to move forward, not weighed down by the past, and that was something I hadn’t expected.
“How are you and Julian?” He switched subjects.
It had to be hard for him to even ask this. The two of them never got along—or, better said, they’d been subtle enemies, each avoiding the other whenever possible, never comfortable in the same space. Aside from their conflicting lifestyle values, they often had opposing opinions about what was best for me. “I am happy,” I assured him. Certain that he hadn’t been reading any tabloids, this seemed like enough to share.
“But?” He prodded, his tone light but insistent, as if he knew there was more to the story.
I didn’t know if this was something I wanted to get into with him. He still didn’t trust that Julian’s intentions had been sincere, and even if he did, he certainly didn’t believe the relationship was good for me. But now that I’d mentioned it, I knew I’d have to explain myself.
“Well, you’ll laugh,” I started, trying to keep it light. “We’ve had the best three months of our lives, so I’m trying hard not to look for something negative in a great situation. Not after everything I’ve been through. But this happiness just feels unfamiliar compared to what I remember of us.”
I hesitated, realizing how much of it came down to trusting this new sense of peace, a feeling I hadn’t been able to connect with before. Would it last? Was I overanalyzing again?
“Dark thinking?” he asked, but I couldn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“Julian used to be depressed about his family much of the time, but now it’s changed. I haven’t seen him down at all. He seems more confident, and his mood has been great too.”
I didn’t know if he heard me because my words echoed back at me. Confident. Confident resonated in my ear; then the high pitch noise in the speaker became unbearable. Shoot, they really didn’t have much reception in Kauai; not where he was.
But Bradley was still there. “Lucie?” I heard him say my name. “I am calling on Wi-Fi, sorry if it’s cutting out.”
“I went off on a tangent anyway. Once a good friend in college told me that I was the type of person that would create a problem if there wasn’t one. Maybe that’s what I am doing here.” I talked myself out of any worries.
As I sipped on my lemonade, I felt a sudden burn at the corner of my lips. It was that familiar sting, the one I’d been battling for months now. I’d been dealing with a minor case of angular cheilitis ever since February, and it was starting to wear on me. My dentist had brushed off the tiny cracks at the corners of my mouth, blaming the dry climate or possibly a vitamin deficiency. I’d been trying to fix it by ordering more vitamins, but nothing seemed to work. The irritation was still there, stubbornly clinging on despite my efforts.
“I think you have a remarkable intuition.” He retorted. “I am driving now to Princeville, and I’ll lose signal. But Lucie, don’t be a stranger, as I said before.”
He cared. And I was so glad it was still the case.
“I’ll be in touch more often.” I promised.
The call dropped unexpectedly, and I wasn’t sure if he’d hung up or if he’d simply lost connection. Still, our conversation lingered in my mind, like a promise of friendship, and I liked that.
The burning now became so uncomfortable that I postponed eating the rest of my lunch and went to look for the lip balm instead. As I walked back toward Kali, I felt tense for no reason. I dismissed it as occasional anxiety and decided to focus on helping her with the set up.
She’d already been waiting for me, with a huge grin on her face. “Lucie, who is the gorgeous businessman who’d just came to see you? Boyfriend?”
I felt a sudden flash of heat in my cheeks because this was a loaded question. “I consider myself lucky to call him that,” I smiled.
Kali searched my face for clues, then she decided not to question me more. The curious crowd around us would eventually bring her all the answers she needed, I was certain.
I eagerly awaited the end of a hectic day at the office. As one of the last to leave, I gathered my belongings and headed towards the parking garage elevator. The sense of accomplishment from wrapping up a productive day and looking forward to an evening with Julian filled me with joy. My dark mood had vanished, now clearly stemming from past experiences, not from actual events.
Following my usual routine, I descended to the lowest underground level where a security guard had been waiting for me. After exchanging greetings, I assured him all was well and began walking towards my car. Once inside my Land Rover, I promptly locked the doors and scrolled through my phone to choose music for the short drive home. My new car felt like a tank, in comparison to my Miata, but I’d long since admitted that there was no other way for me to get on the road safely without a more substantial vehicle. After Niccolo’s attempt to kill me, I could appreciate being surrounded by this much steel, and sheltered from a stranger’s aim by bulletproof windows.
I’d exit the building through a maintenance exit as per usual—a tactic yet undiscovered by the paparazzi—As soon as I backed out of my parking spot, my new bodyguard Will Flenigan followed me in an Audi A8.
I lost myself in the lyrics of The Weeknd, still my most-played artist, but was quickly pulled back to reality by an incoming call.
“Hey, Sophie,” I answered it with a sense of warm anticipation.
“Lu, I figured by now you’d be off work,” she subtly reminded me that I took corporate life to an extreme.
“Trying to make a living, you know how it goes,” I reminded her that I still had pride. “My new car purchase is draining my bank account.” I was determined never to become a kept woman, even if it meant struggling with an unhealthy work-life balance.
“Julian must be going crazy, when you’re at the office 70 hours a week,” she nudged. “Amanda won’t give you a break, will she?”
“Ever since the launch of the app, I’ve been buried in assignments,” I shared with her “It’s rare for anyone to top Julian’s workaholism but I am managing.”
I could hear her sigh on the other side of the line. “Lucie, keep in mind that taking regular time off is good for the soul. Amanda is also taking advantage of your situation, I hope you realize that.”
In that sense she was probably right. Why wouldn’t she, though? She was a savvy businesswoman. She didn’t build an empire by not pursuing every avenue of growth.
“Sometimes it feels like work is my only escape.” I justified my decisions.
“Has the press been hounding you?”
Their attention had been relentless, like a thorn in the glossy rose Julian had gifted me as a symbol of our love.
“Yeah, we’re dealing with it the best we can. But maybe I wish that it wasn’t this intense. The other day a photographer rented the apartment across the street from us, then tried to climb on the roof of the building to get a better shot.”
“But he didn’t succeed at getting good pics?” She tried to cheer me up. “I’ve seen nothing of that sort online.”
It still felt surreal that when checking on me, my friends could just google my name.
“Yeah. With the way the place is designed, there’s no way to see anything through the windows.” Julian and I had just moved in together a month ago. It seemed like a natural progression of our relationship, given that we couldn’t imagine most evenings apart anymore, but it also felt that he’d had another practical motive. He still felt guilty over everything that happened and vowed to ensure my safety, so this arrangement gave him a lot more control over it.
After we had talked about where we wanted to live, Julian chose to invest in an apartment building on Cortez Hill. We had both fallen in love with the neighborhood the year before when I’d rented a nearby studio.
Nestled just north of the Gaslamp Quarter, Cortez Hill rose as one of the highest points in downtown San Diego, offering a tranquil, almost secretive charm, yet still within reach of the city’s pulse. My favorite corner of it was the historic Cortez Hill building, which I often likened to a white castle perched on a hill. The red flickering sign atop the Cortez Hill Hotel, with its nostalgic hum, became an iconic presence in the neighborhood—and now, from our three-story haven, I gazed directly at it. Our apartment was spacious, yet intimate, a reflection of our lives together. We had adorned it with treasures discovered at Goodwill, each piece a quiet, cherished reminder of who we were—simple, grounded, and in love. I never saw the need for luxury shops or extravagant spending, and to my relief, Julian understood.
“Anyway, I am calling you to invite you to a dinner this Saturday at our new place with Mark.” Sophie unexpectedly announced that they’d just moved in together.
“What? You moved out of your parents’ place?”
“Yeah, we’re taking that next step.” She sounded so happy that it spread to me. I couldn’t believe how much our life had changed in a year. I’d moved to San Diego, heartbroken, recovering from the nightmare of James. She’d been nursing her own heartbreak because of Mark’s presumed infidelity. Now we’d both found what we presumed to be the loves of our lives.
“Can’t wait to see it,” I stepped on the break to wait for the metal gate to open. One more security guard had been waiting at the maintenance exit to scan my vehicle and ensure I was ready to go. He peeked into the vehicle while I gestured our secret code.
I pondered whether I should tell her about Jess, then decided not to bring it up yet. I saw no use in reminding her of past hurts.
“How is your dad handling the move?” Mr. Dickens was protective of Sophie especially because she had a heart condition. Coincidentally, he was also Julian’s financial advisor, a fact that made us even more interconnected as girlfriends.
“He’s crushed. But Mark’s really made an impression on him.” She boasted.
“I bet.” Mark epitomized the ideal man, seemingly without any flaws. He had a close-knit family, had graduated from Stanford, earned enough to support a large family, and even shared membership at the same golf club as Mr. Dickens. He was also good-looking, but not overly good-looking, so it was easier on Sophie who loved him. She truly couldn’t have found anyone whom her parents would adore more.
In stark contrast to Mark, my alpha male boyfriend was a positively different story. Julian skipped expensive education that he didn’t find necessary for success. He was living proof that degrees weren’t a prerequisite to becoming a successful real estate investor. He’d never had a traditional upbringing, both of his parents being societal outcasts. His childhood had been filled with grief and hardship, with little relief from the abuse of his foster parents. Perhaps to make up for the struggle, nature blessed him with wicked good looks and charisma.
“Lucie, I gotta go because I need to run comps for an anxious client. It’s always nice catching up, though, and I hope to see you both at my place!” She sounded apologetic, but I could understand the hectic schedule.
“Text me the details of your new address,” I reminded her as I approached home.
“I will. Most importantly, be safe out there,” she sounded as serious as death and taxes.
“Always,” I tried to sound confident because I didn’t want to worry her. Truth was – it felt like I had little control over any safety at all. And I still needed to build my mental resilience after the prior year which had really shaken up any sense of stability. “Good luck, Sophie,” I ended the call. Determined not to let fear cripple me, I cranked up the music. Music had always been my refuge, a force that sharpened my focus and gave me the strength to face whatever came next.
I arrived home to an unforgettable image. Julian seemed deeply engrossed in preparing our elaborate dinner. He’d been trying to make things right between us, so a fresh bouquet of colorful sunflowers awaited me.
“Baby!” he exclaimed as he heard me turn the corner to the second floor of our apartment. “How was the rest of your day at work?” He asked caringly.
I greeted him with a soft affection, my voice warm as I made my way toward the kitchen. His signature scent wrapped around me, filling my nostrils and immediately reviving the dull senses left worn out from a long day at work. I couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him through my eyelashes, still in awe of the fact that he was here, with me. It was almost impossible to comprehend how I’d gotten so damn lucky. I would never be able to say it enough.
But despite my amazement, there was a part of me that understood it perfectly. Julian’s mind often felt like an extension of mine, how similar we were in our thinking. Yet, someone like him would normally be so far out of my reach had there not been for his decision to create an anonymous dating profile. He was a billionaire who’d chosen an unconventional path to get to know a woman—through being pen-pals first. His reason? To escape a life filled with scandals and heartbreak. Without the weight of his name or wealth, he could finally find something real in a world that often felt lonely and calculated. In my opinion, he’d executed on it perfectly.
“Eventful, but I couldn’t wait to be home,” I murmured into his ear, then planted a kiss on his scruffy cheek, enough to leave me craving more.
At the same moment, we both blurted out Missed you , then shared a smile over the serendipity of saying the same words. It happened to us way too often, a reassurance that we truly had a powerful mind connection. The magic had always been there, even when we first exchanged hellos online. From that, I realized that love, to some extent, had to be an energetic connection. There was likely much in this world we had yet to grasp about the spiritual realm.
He pulled me closer to his body, his hands now salaciously traveling down my derriere.
“Hmm,” Julian licked his soft perfectly shaped lips. “This dress looks hot on you.”
As much as I appreciate the compliment, I needed food first. “What are you making?” I queried, still looking at him with adoration. “Sorry again I am late for the second time today.” I frowned in the direction of a large clock mounted on the wall. Julian collected clocks, a quirky fact I’d learned about him as soon as we moved in. Each clock in the house seemed like a miniature masterpiece, adorned with intricate designs and elaborate details.
He let go of our passionate embrace to tend to the stove. “The recipe is called Boeuf Bourguignon,” he butchered the French term, then poured me a glass of red from the open bottle on the counter while giving the pot a final stir. “If you want to correct my clumsy pronunciation, I may have to take you on this table,” he flirted heavily, referring to my ability to speak French in a native accent.
My cheeks flushed. Being bilingual in French had never served a better purpose than now. Well, maybe except for my work trip to Paris. I’d enjoyed going back to the city representing Apogee .
“Well, I’ll spare you the torture,” I responded with playfulness. “Per the aroma in here, it’s going to be amazing, and it would be a shame if the food ended on the ground,” I teased him with images of us getting naughty.
“Later,” he kissed my forehead, then proceeded to serve us each a bowl.
My stomach growled as I sat down with Julian to enjoy the homemade meal. Although he had only recently taken up cooking, Julian had become a remarkably fast learner. I couldn’t help but feel proud—he was quickly becoming a better chef than I was, despite me only having shown him the basics. Though he was also a workaholic, it wasn’t unusual for him to be done with work sooner than I was these days, and he was most certainly doing this out of care for me. We said a brief gratitude prayer and then eagerly dug into the food. I had introduced us to this ritual not because I felt a higher power was holding me accountable, but because it was a meaningful reminder to appreciate all that we had.
“Did you have a busy day at the office?” I queried, as my mouth exploded with flavor. “Julian this is delicious. I knew Gram had great things in her cookbook, but you outdid the way I remember it.” It had been a while since Gram made the recipe, not since Grandpa’s passing.
“Thanks, Lucie,” he looked pleased. “By the way, the Dubai project is almost finished, I couldn’t wait to tell you,” his eyes gleamed as he finally answered my question. For many months now, Julian’s investment company had been working on an expansive resort, complete with branded hotel apartments, luxury penthouses, a premium yacht club, and several villas near the marina.
“You remember Adrianna?” His tone made the question feel heavier than usual.
I cleared my throat, a subconscious reaction that revealed my discomfort. I hadn’t expected him to bring up her, someone who had made me jealous in the past. “I do.” I tried to ignore the fact that the food now tasted suddenly bland. The newspapers had once speculated about a relationship between Julian and her, while he had kept me as his secret. Although we had dismissed those rumors as mere tabloid fodder, they had still caused me considerable pain.
“I’d like you to come with me and meet her.” He proposed. “We’ll be flying out Tuesday if you’re up for a trip.”
With each sip of wine, I felt my tension ease, the warmth spreading through me. “Julian, Amanda wouldn’t want me to leave, not with the release of our new issue just around the corner. She’s also been at the office less and less lately.” Amanda Hart, my boss and a formidable publishing icon, had been prioritizing her personal time more and more. Did this mean she was confident having me run things? I had a hunch there was more to it, but would need to be patient to find out.
“I don’t want the tabloids to make you nervous,” Julian threaded lightly. “I think if you and Adrianna could become friends, it would put you at ease. She’s been instrumental in promoting the project, and I can’t avoid being seen with her, Lucie.”
The two of them seemed like close friends.
Now, I felt a pang of guilt. I never wanted him to feel he couldn’t interact professionally with women just because it might hurt my feelings. “I trust you, Julian,” I brushed off his concerns. “And honestly, you can’t win with the press. If they take pictures of all of us, they might just write that we’ve had a threesome. Imagine the scandal that would create.”
He chuckled hard. “Would you ever consider a threesome?”
I tossed my napkin his way, feeling a bit silly. Instead of bringing the mood down, it only sparked his playful side. He rose from his seat, and suddenly, food was the furthest thing from our minds. Julian was easy on the eyes, and the proximity to him filled me with lust. I was already a bit tipsy, with an insatiable appetite now focused entirely on my tall, dark, and dangerously charming boyfriend. I had no intention of sharing him with anyone else. I was too loyal and too egoistic, and I expected the same from him.
“I want you right here on this table.” He used an authoritative tone.
I could appreciate it, but only in the context of sex. I got up, pressing my derriere against his groin.
Briskly, he turned me around and lifted me on the tablecloth area that wasn’t covered with plates. His lips sank into my neck until his teeth would most certainly leave a hickey. As if he needed to mark me when the whole world already knew I was his anyway.
“I want all the dishes to break to remind you of the first time you came,” he breathed till it sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.
I recalled the moment clearly. We were aboard his yacht, Trading Yesterday , when a delicate vase—one he’d collected from Italy—suddenly cracked. Our connection had been intense, consuming us entirely, until it all came to a halt in the chaos of a bathroom. There, amidst the wild urgency of our kiss, Julian gave me an experience I’d never known before—one that left me breathless, forever altering the way I saw intimacy. Those days… I was still so innocent, not yet the woman who delighted in buying provocative outfits from sex shops to cater to Julian’s more lustful desires.
“I’ll always remember,” I brushed my fingers through his thick brown hair.
“My goal is to remind you every day,” he gazed into my eyes with a look that made me melt.
I gulped some more wine. The more drunk I’d become, the more I would let myself go. Sex with him always felt like a freefall, the thrill never wore off, and I’d explore all the animalistic desires we had without a sense of decorum.
“God, I love you,” he groaned, admiring every inch of me. His hand slid up my dress, his fingers teasing me in my most delicate areas. I moaned and bent my back, then spread my legs wider so he could feel me deeper. I panted, my mind only focused on the intense pleasure, as he continued to press at my lips in a steady rhythm. We stayed in these motions for a minute, but I still felt unfulfilled and mad with need. Recognizing this, he leaned me fully on the table, while skillfully removing the measly underwear fabric that covered almost nothing anyway.
“Baby girl,” he whispered as his tongue circled my lips, my legs now resting on his shoulders. The mix of my sky-high heels and nudity on a table made me feel like I’d taken things too far in a private dance at a club—except I was in Louboutins, and this was definitely not a transactional relationship. I wanted Julian to enjoy every part of me, to get lost in my curves, to feel like he owned me. Except he didn’t, I’d always be an independent soul, and he’d gravitate toward me because of it. But I wanted him to live out all his fantasies, to never feel dissatisfied.
I reached for the zipper of his dress pants; while he rammed his hard cock into me. All the dishes fell to the floor as he slid me further on the table, my body undulating in rapture, the familiar tickle building up. I didn’t want it to be over yet. “Slowly,” I whispered.
He immediately adjusted his pace. We reached a sweet moment of a hug. He filled me with soft thrusts, while I cherished each and every single one of them. In his arms, I felt an energy that was both exhilarating and comforting, a sense of being fully present and alive in a way I’d never experienced with anyone.
“Sit,” I encouraged him as I loosened up his tie and climbed into his lap. I wanted to ride him until my breasts ached and my body was out of breath. Until he had enough of bouncing my undoubtedly large butt with his hands. Until we’ve both given what we had to each other. And it was never enough, so we’d need to do it over and over again. ‘Til death would us part. The only question really was –given our track record–what kind of death.
I woke up and immediately glanced at my phone to check the time. 2:23 AM. The blue light felt harsh against my eyes in the surrounding darkness. Noticing that Julian wasn’t beside me, I went to the kitchen to fetch some water and simultaneously search for him. It was an easy feat, even in our three-story apartment. As soon as I reached the top floor, I spotted his tall silhouette on the balcony. He seemed deep in thought while he observed the now empty pool that we could never visit because it was a public space. Still, it added a nice ambiance to the place to have a view of something as ordinary as a community facility.
I slid the glass door open, peeking outside. The summer air felt balmy, gently wrapping around me with a warm and soothing embrace. “Can’t sleep?”
He glanced up at me, surprised that was even there. We’d had quite a few drinks so I myself wasn’t sure why I’d gotten up so easily.
“Sleeping has not been the same since Niccolo. I don’t think I’ll find peace until he and Tarnakis are not in this world, Lucie.” He growled.
Jail was good enough for me. “Don’t worry.” I retorted. His gentle soul had to be so afraid to wish for someone’s passing.
I leaned into him, feeling the weight of the past year settle between us. It had taken its toll on both of us, while the shadows of our shared experiences loomed large.
Julian’s business partner, Tarnakis had owned a yacht-building company teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. Julian saw a promising investment, bought the company, and sold it off in pieces, including some shares to his Arab partners. But, Tarnakis’s wife couldn’t cope with the loss of their fortune and took her own life in the final days of the deal. With little left to lose, he’d directed his fury at Julian, vowing revenge. So, for a while, I had been an unwitting target of a contract killer, the thought still sending chills down my spine. I had survived a serious car crash by sheer miracle—probably thanks to the roll bar my ex-boyfriend had installed in my old Miata, my beloved car that I now had to retire in a parking garage. It felt like the end of an era, a symbol of everything I had endured and lost.
“We can’t give him the pleasure of scaring us forever, Julian.” I declared resolutely. “Don’t let fear grow larger than your faith.” Sometimes I liked clichés.
The quiet of the night continued to surround us, except for the occasional barking of a few dogs who were just as common on Cortez Hill as people. Oliver had ensured that the apartments facing the inner circle of the apartment complex remained vacant. Except, for the ones where our security guards lived. There was no other way to keep us from the prying eyes of someone who could exploit us for money.
“Come here.” He extended his arm to make space for me.
I ambled toward him, then sat on one side of his lap. “I appreciate all you do to protect our life here.” Moving downtown to Cortez Hill had been our dream, and despite the organization that it took, it had been worth it. I knew it was ultimately just a matter of time until we’d end up in an isolated mansion in the suburbs, but we both loved the city so much that plans were postponed.
“What do you ultimately want to do with your career, Lucie?” He raised a pertinent question.
It was now even more clear to me why he couldn’t sleep. He was in constant worry about me balancing my public presence and my ordinary corporate job. I was trying to cling to an oxymoron for as long as possible, holding onto the illusion that my life with him hadn’t completely dismantled my identity.
“Maybe someday I want to run my own publishing business,” I said, opening my heart to him. It had been a secret dream of mine. While Apogee was quite influential in the fashion world—not as much as magazines like Vogue , but still significant— our specialty remained content that empowered women. I liked the subject matter enough to excel at my job, but I had other interests. Sorting through manuscripts to discover the occasional gem that would truly resonate with readers seemed like a fulfilling way to spend my life. A fulfilling way to put my English major to its best use.
“Why not start on that dream now?” He encouraged me.
How could I explain to him that I felt a certain loyalty to Amanda? I didn’t feel like this was the time to leave her yet. I’d promised her to stay at my job, and I wasn’t about to break it. Julian would not understand this type of commitment because he answered to no one.
“A year, give me a year to decide.” But I understood his reasons for being so protective of me. It was within reason too. What I was doing was perhaps risky. Every day I put myself in front of people that we knew little about.
His hand caressed my thigh, then slipped back into my nightie. I rested my back against his hard chest as we both watched the lights of Cortez flicker in front of us. I was glad that he’d managed to let me stay in their proximity, my one sense of normalcy amidst the absolute lack of privacy descending on us everywhere.