15. Fiona
Chapter 15
Fiona
Rosalee gasps in delight as I walk through the front door. “Same clothes as yesterday! Please tell me you let Clay rock your world?” She claps her hands together in unrestrained glee as I roll my eyes.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn’t sleep with him.”
She sighs, sinking into the couch. I flop next to her. “But we spent the night together.”
She tucks her feet underneath her. “I’m listening.”
“First, I should tell you that Andrew and Deanna are engaged.”
Her mouth drops open. “That slimy ho-bag. I knew it.” She rubs my arm. “Are you okay?”
“At first, I thought my world was imploding again. I couldn’t even breathe. And then Clay…”
She leans closer, hanging on my every word.
“He rescued me.”
She grins.
“He called a truce and drove us to meet some of his friends in San Diego. One of them owns a country bar downtown.”
Her eyebrows rise. “We’ll talk about why you didn’t text me when you were leaving the city later, but tell me more.”
I wince. “Sorry. I promise I was safe.”
“I’ll bet with Mr. Smoking Hot Bodyguard.”
“We had a moment in the bar. He sang, Rosalee. His voice is so sexy and beautiful. We were in a crowd of people, but the way he looked at me…”
“Like he wanted to bang you on the bar?”
I laugh, remembering the way his eyes seemed to shine from within as he strummed his guitar and stared into my soul. It was just a trick of the lighting, but it was stunning.
“It was more like he could see everything I was trying to hide. I was…exposed, but in a good way. He saw all the broken parts of me, and didn’t judge. It’s why I later told him about Deanna and Andrew, and what happened to me in the church.”
“Woah. That’s huge. How did he take it?”
“He seemed…angry. But not at me.”
“That’s an appropriate reaction. What song did he sing to you?”
“Wicked Game.”
She grins. “Oh yeah. He wants you.”
“He even has a nickname for me. I hated it at first, but it’s growing on me.”
Her face lights up. “Is it cute?”
“He calls me Flowers.”
She puts her hand to her chest. “Oh my God, I never thought your awful taste in floral print shirts could be cute.”
I snort and smack her arm. “Shut up.”
“Did you hold hands? Kiss? Anything?”
“He held my hand, and we danced. And then I friend-zoned him when we said goodbye this morning.”
She slaps her palm on her forehead. “Fiona!”
“It was one night, Rosa. I’m glad we’re not fighting anymore, but we work together and anything more than friendship is pointless. Once his assignment is over, he’ll go back to New York.”
She sighs. “I’d hate for you to miss out on something special because you’re scared.”
I chew on my inner lip. “He believed me. He’s the first person I’ve told about my past, and he didn’t even question it.”
“Sounds like a smart guy.”
“So smart. He can code better than anyone I work with.”
“Better than you?”
“Of course not.”
“Sounds like you have a lot in common.” We both laugh and she wraps her arm around me. “Take it slow, and if you’re not ready, I get it. But I’ve never seen you light up like this before. That’s something to celebrate.”
Yeah, maybe it is.
“Oh, I got a weird text from an unknown number on the way home.” I pull out my phone and show it to her.
Through chastity, we are worthy. Through community, we prevail. Through obedience, we will reign.
“It’s been a while, but that sounds like Infinitum scripture.”
“It is. But who would send it to me? I’m supposed to be dead to the church.”
“Are you still subscribed to one of those scripture apps?”
“It would be under my old phone number.”
“It’s probably nothing, but stay vigilant, just in case someone tries to mess with you.”
I sigh and pocket my phone.
“It wouldn’t hurt to tell your new boyfriend. He’s in security, after all.”
I shake my head. “He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t want to bother him with this. Especially if it turns out to be nothing.”
“I doubt it would bother him.”
“It’s too weird. I’m not involving him if I don’t have to.”
“Alright, suit yourself.” She stands and makes her way to the kitchen. “I’ll make us some lunch, and we can pore over every detail of your night with the bodyguard.”
“Sounds good.”
I stare at the cryptic text. Hopefully it’s just a fluke.
My stomach flutters with nerves as I take the elevator to the executive floors on Monday. It was easier when I hated Clay. I knew what to expect, but this new dynamic has me going over every scenario.
What if he changed his mind? Can I go back to the snarky remarks? Well, that will never change. I smile to myself as I enter conference room B and my nerves settle in an instant when I’m met with Clay’s smile.
“Morning, Flowers. How was your weekend?”
I drop my things in my usual chair. “Pretty boring. Nothing exciting to report.”
He grins, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing at all? Hm. That’s strange because I seem to recall you smiling and laughing a lot.”
“You mean between all the crying?”
He stands, meeting me at the table, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes. Between all the understandable crying,” he says, his voice pitched low only for me, and those flutters pummel my stomach.
Dylan clears his throat and we share a soft smile before we separate. “Fiona, we met a little early today and came up with a new plan. Let’s get you up to speed.”
I open my mouth to question why they met without me, but Dylan launches into this plan. “I’ve asked Arthur to meet with us. Would you agree he knows everyone in the department?”
“I would. He’s been a manager for years. Longer than he should if I’m being honest.”
They both stare at me. “Why is that?” Dylan asks.
“He wasn’t qualified. Still isn’t, if you ask me and at least half of the department.”
They share a knowing look, and Dylan nods at me. “Do you think Arthur will cooperate?”
“If it makes him look good, he’d do anything.”
“Excellent. Can I count on your discretion?”
“Of course.”
Arthur appears, knocking on the glass door. “You wanted to speak with me?”
Dylan stands. “Thank you for coming. Let’s head next door.”
Arthur frowns at me as he leaves and I ignore him, returning to my things to get set up for the day.
“What’s your history with Arthur?” Clay asks.
“Who said I have a history?” It pops out before I can stop it and I sigh. “Sorry. Old habits. He’s besties with my father.”
Clay raises an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be awkward.”
I shrug. “I’m used to it.”
“Why did you stay?”
“Stay where?”
“At Reilly Tech. With your credentials, you could have gone anywhere.”
He pulls the chair next to him out for me and I settle into the seat.
“For lack of a better term, Infinitum is a cult I was born into. It wasn’t until my excommunication that I saw the truth. I had no control over my life. My father selected everything for me, from the clothes I wore to the events I attended and who I was friends with. He even arranged my marriage to Andrew. But there was one thing he let me decide.”
He nods, understanding crossing his features. “Your job.”
“My father gave me a list of majors to choose from for college, and I wanted nothing more than to work at James Reilly’s empire. He started the church so he’s like a founding father.” My eyes widen as I glance around the room. We’re never supposed to talk about that in public.
Clay puts his hand on my arm, centering me. “It’s okay. It’s just me. The room is secure.”
“I’ve never said that out loud outside of the church before.”
“I see what you mean about control.”
“It’s only been eight months, so I’m still learning how to be a normal person.”
He shrugs. “Normal is overrated.”
I smile, despite the topic.
“Would you go back if you could?” he asks. I stare at him for a long moment. Nobody has ever asked me that.
I shake my head. “No. There’s no way I could go back. They did things…” I trail off, hesitant to explain how horrific my situation was when I remember something.
“You never explained your connection to the church.”
“Why did you friend zone me?” he asks instead of answering my question.
The deflection catches me off guard. “Clay…”
“There must be a reason. I want to hear it.”
He waits expectantly, and I let out a sigh. “Because we need to learn to walk before we can run.”
He grins. “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”
“A chance for what?”
“A little aggressive cuddling.”
He takes my hostile stare as a cue to continue.
“The mattress tango, the ol’ bedroom rodeo, a little gland-to-gland contact, making sure you have enough vitamin D, the clunge plunge, the–”
I slap my hand on his chest. “If those words ever come out of your mouth again, consider this friendship void.”
He laughs and I can’t help but smile. “I love getting you riled up.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“It’s even more fun when I know you’re no longer fantasizing about chopping my balls off.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“Can I tell you what I fantasized about last night, and the night before, and will again tonight?” He leans in close, and my heart races.
“What maturity would be like?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Fuck. You’re perfect,” he whispers, and I grin.
“About time you noticed.”
He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger and his voice drops several octaves. “I’ve noticed everything about you from the moment we met.” His eyes sparkle and my breath catches. When he looks at me like that, I feel flayed open, but safe. It’s a heady mixture, and I want more.
“Clay…” I whisper, unable to articulate the chaos of emotions swirling inside of me.
I lean towards him and he drops his hand. “How are you holding up after the thing with Edgar?”
“I’m okay, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough.”
I chew my inner lip as he types on the computer. “But what you said. About the…” I grimace. “Mattress tango or whatever.”
He stops and raises an eyebrow at me and I do my best to not blush. “Is that really something you’ve…fantasized about?”
He smiles and takes my hand. “For the sake of our friendship, I won’t answer that.”
I turn away to hide my disappointment.
“But the second you want to ruin that friendship, you just let me know.” He winks and turns back to his laptop as Dylan appears.
“Don’t think I won’t use the firehose on either of you,” he says.
Clay barks a laugh. “Did you just make a joke?” He turns to me. “You heard that, right?”
I smile as Dylan rolls his eyes and flips open a laptop.
“I don’t think he was joking,” I whisper, and I’m treated with Clay’s genuine laughter that makes me feel warm inside.