5. Aspen
Chapter 5
Aspen
M y phone rings, startling me out of me out of my longing gaze. I have no idea how long I’ve been staring at the door since Harvey left but I need to lock it anyway.
“Hello?” I answer, slowly rising from the couch on my good foot.
“Hey, girl. I haven’t heard from you in a minute. How’s it going?” Blaire’s familiar voice puts a smile on my face.
“Hey, how are you doing?” My voice takes on that weird sympathetic tone you somehow can’t seem to avoid when speaking to someone who’s been dealing with something. “Any more improvement with the morning sickness?” A tinge of pain shoots up my leg when I apply more pressure to my ankle but it’s not as bad as it was. I limp through the pain to my door, sliding both locks into place and quickly looking through the peephole.
“A little. I think basically being bedridden has helped which really sucks actually. But I know it’ll all be worth it in a few more months when she’s here.” I can practically picture her smiling down at her belly as she rubs it. “I miss you, though. I was just telling Jules that I feel like it’s been weeks since we’ve talked.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just got caught up in getting settled in my new apartment and my new position at work. I let it take over my life and soon the weeks turned into months.”
“Don’t apologize. I totally get it. I didn’t mean to guilt you. I’m just letting you know that we miss you. Also, once I kick this morning sickness to the curb, we need to have a night at my house with all of us. I think Jimmy misses the guys more than he lets on.”
“That sounds like fun. I know I can’t wait to catch up with you guys and see how far along you and Jules are.”
“If she’s even still pregnant by then.” Blaire laughs and while I know she didn’t mean it as a dig against me, I can’t deny the guilt that churns in my stomach. Not only have I been a bad friend but at such a pivotal time when two of my best friends are pregnant.
“I know.” I sigh. “Listen, I really do feel terrible that I’ve let things pull me away and I’m sorry if I haven’t been there for you during your pregnancy.”
“Don’t apologize, Aspen. I get it, I mean it. Besides,” she snorts, “Jimmy is so far up my ass trying to make sure I literally don’t have to lift a finger that I’m about to go insane so trust me when I say all my needs are covered.”
“I have to admit, that does make me feel better and I’m not surprised that’s how he’s behaving.” I giggle. “But you can admit that you like it.”
“Well… maybe a little. But I called because—honestly girl, I’m worried about you. The last few times we’ve hung out, you’ve seemed a little more distant or distracted. Is everything okay?”
I get this weird feeling all of a sudden, like maybe Harvey called Jimmy and told him about tonight or maybe I’m just being paranoid.
“Oh yeah. I think it’s just work, trying to find that balance. This new position is a lot more responsibility than being an assistant.” I hate that I can hear a tinge of defensiveness in my voice. Like I shouldn’t have to defend why I’m stressed. Like my friends have no right to care about me… I should be grateful that they notice and ask, but right now, when I’m still operating in shock about the threats from Mr. Blake, I can’t be.
My stomach drops and I look over at the thumb drive I left on the kitchen island. In the heat of my conversation with Harvey and the two martinis, I somehow managed to forget about the thumb drive.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
“What? Y-yes, sorry, must have cut out.” My eyes don’t leave the thumb drive and I completely miss what Blaire says again. “Hey, I’m sorry but can I give you a call back tomorrow?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” Her voice still carries concern and I laugh, lifting my voice an octave so I sound okay.
“Sorry, I’m just running a bath and don’t want the water to get cold.” I walk to the bathroom and turn on the water, telling myself a warm soak might help me relax.
“Oh.” Her sigh of relief carries a small laugh with it. “I understand. I really miss a steaming hot bath so the second this baby is out, I’m going to marinate in one for hours. Enjoy your bath. Call me tomorrow!”
“Will do, miss you!” I hang up the phone and let the water run, rushing back to the kitchen to grab the thumb drive. I walk back to my bedroom, to the tiny corner that I’ve turned into my computer corner.
You’d think being a cyber security analyst, I’d have a computer setup like you see in hacker movies and shows complete with glowing colored lights and multiple screens, but I don’t. I can do everything I need to do from my single laptop and one additional screen. I sink down into my pink chair, my stomach doing flip-flops over and over again as I lift the thumb drive to press it into the USB port.
But I can’t.
My hand trembles, my chin begins to quiver, and tears tumble down my cheeks. I’m not sure if it’s shame or fear or both, but I don’t want to see what’s on this thumb drive. I don’t want to know what actually happened that night.
I shouldn’t have agreed to another drink with him… I knew it was stupid, flirting with my boss, but I got caught up. It was fun being desired by a powerful man who threw caution to the wind and didn’t give a damn if it was scandalous. But something deep down told me it was too good to be true. I convinced myself that the looks from others were jealousy or intrigue, curious if they just witnessed something they could gossip about with the others tomorrow.
But the look in their eyes wasn’t curiosity. The expressions weren’t judgment… They were warnings that I completely ignored.
I grip the thumb drive in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it so tightly and squeezing that my nails dig into the flesh of my palm. I close my eyes, my mind immediately transporting me back to that night.
The music was gentle and smooth, just like the Chateau Lafite we were drinking. I can’t recall the year of the bottle, but I remember Mr. Blake making a big deal out of it as if I were going to be impressed. Had I any of knowledge of wine, then sure, I would have been, but I’m the kind of girl who buys the cheapest one on the shelf with the prettiest label. The only reason I remember the name was because after our first glass, he showed me the label and the words were blurry. I had to concentrate, squinting in the dimly lit bar to read what it said. I remember that was when I told him I needed water, not a second glass. But he didn’t listen and I naively didn’t insist. Instead, I smiled, leaning into his open arm as he told me how beautiful I was… how he’d never met someone like me.
By the time I had finished the second glass and we left the bar, we were halfway to my apartment before I realized it. I remember asking him if we were going to my place and he said yes, that I’d invited him over. Then he flashed that charming smile at me and leaned in for a kiss. I barely remember the walk inside my building or climbing the stairs to my old apartment. The last thing I do remember is him kissing me as he closed my apartment door behind us and locked it.
My eyes fly open as my stomach rolls and I run to the bathroom. I fall to my knees, my stomach heaving its contents into the bowl. Then I sit up, a thought occurring. I turn off the bathtub water just in time before it spills over. I wash my mouth out, then walk to my bedroom, looking around the room.
“How would he have recorded anything?” I say to myself as I check my outlets, shelves, and every nook and cranny for a camera. I sit back on my heels, thinking through how he would have had to bring one. It’s not impossible and they’re easy enough to install in seconds, but then he would have planned to have me invite him back.
“Maybe I didn’t.” I remember him telling me I did, but I don’t remember saying it. Then it hits me—the incident didn’t occur in this apartment. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to recall the events of the night in chronological order but I struggle.
I thought for sure he had drugged me because while I’m not a big drinker, I’ve certainly not felt that drunk off of two glasses of wine ever, even when I was seventeen and snuck a bottle of my mom’s Sutter Home with my friends.
But I saw the bottle opened at our table.
I saw him drink from it first.
I stare straight ahead, trying to think through how he pulled this off. Then I see it. My computer camera. It has a full view of my bedroom from its spot in the corner.
“No way.” I shake my head as I walk toward my laptop. Most of the time, I have the cover over the lens, but he must have moved it aside when he was here. I reach up and drag my thumb over the cover.
I sit down in my seat, launching a software program that will show me each application that is currently running on my operating system. Then I run diagnostics to see if there’s been any breach in my firewalls or check to see if there’s been any remote access programs installed but everything comes up empty.
Pushing back from my computer, I huff in frustration, staring up at the ceiling while I try to think through how to get myself out of this situation. An image of Harvey pops in my head. His arms flexing as he reached for his glass, the way his deep voice sounded like honey, thick and smooth.
My brain bounces back and forth between the idea of asking him for help or taking matters into my own hands and destroying Connor Blake from the inside. All I would have to do is reach out to one single contact on the dark web and I would have a gigabyte worth of information I could slip into his hard drive without a trace and all concerns about his attempts to destroy me would be over… but that terrifies me.
It’s never that easy when you’re dealing with a powerful man who has clawed and stomped his way to the top by destroying every single person in his path. The most terrifying thing is, he’s done it all with little to no consequences and a world that sees him as a self-made man that’s the victim of a gold-digging ex-wife who’s only divorcing him for money.
Finally deciding that I won’t be able to figure it all out tonight, I head to the bathroom and sink into the tub. I keep the flash drive in my hand, twisting and twirling it over and over. Maybe doing this favor for him won’t be that bad. It’s just a few financial trails I can easily erase and some offshore accounts I can easily hide.
If I do this for him, then I’ll be off the hook. He’ll destroy whatever is on this thumb drive and I’ll move on with my life. Besides, he’s clearly already set his sights on someone else. I recognize the way Natalie floats around his office with her head in the clouds, even if he’s brought her back down to earth with a few degrading comments or reprimanding her for something as silly as the way she sits. I remember those days too, but I was a prisoner to the way he made me feel when it was a good day.
A sickness settles into my stomach when I think about the fact that if I do this, if I let him win, he’s going to do the same thing to Natalie and then the next woman… and the next.