Chapter 51 I See Fire
My mouth moves to say his name, and nothing comes out. Fear clutches at my throat like a vise. He’s looking at me like . . . I stabbed him in the face. Why is he looking at me like that?
“I’m here for book club. Did I get the wrong address?” Reed’s voice comes out flat, like he’s being strangled. Oh god.
Ted nods. “She canceled this week because we’re on deadline for a Love Today piece about our relationship.”
Reed’s eyes slide back to me. I watch as they glaze over. Shut down. Go dark.
My vocal cords are held momentarily hostage as the crux of Broken and Bruised streams in HD across my mind.
“Your relationship?” Reed asks, monotone.
“About how it ended!” I blurt. “How our relationship ended!”
He blinks. “You’re doing a piece for Love Today with your ex-boyfriend? In your apartment on a Sunday afternoon?”
“No, he also writes at The Minute. It’s a long story—we haven’t talked in like, a year, but I ran into him last Friday and—”
Reed shakes his head, blinking rapidly. He pivots and disappears from the doorway.
“Reed! Where are you going?” I breeze by Ted, into the hallway. “Please come back!”
He’s already halfway to the elevator.
“Wait! We’re just working, Reed!” I catch his arm, and he flinches away.
“Reed. I’m so happy you’re here. I can’t believe you’re here!
You look amazing. This is perfect for WWU.
I—I can get Jordyn over here. We can have a makeshift book club.
I rescheduled because we had a draft due but, but I’ll kick Ted out—”
Reed’s expression smooths into an emotionless slate. “You work with your ex?” He won’t look directly at me. The small shift makes me feel invisible.
“I—I work adjacent to him.”
“You didn’t think that was relevant to mention in passing in any one of our conversations? Even after I shoveled out all my shit about my ex-fiancée?”
“We don’t work together together,” I babble. “We’re only doing this one piece. We barely even see each other.”
“How long have you been working on this piece?”
“Just this week!”
“This week?” He blinks at a spot to the left of my face. “And you didn’t mention it at all? We’ve talked almost every day.”
“I didn’t because—church and state!” I bleat. “It’s in our contract! Just like you didn’t tell me about Elizabeth Ross.”
His eyes are steel-blue doors bolted shut. “I was under an NDA for Elizabeth Ross, Rikki. I had an actual contract. I couldn’t wait to tell you. When you sent that text recommending the book back in July, my heart fucking stopped.”
“I’m not with him!” I wave my arms around like a crazed bird. “I’m not the barest bit with him or interested. I’m so uninterested! He went behind my back and convinced my boss that I needed to do this piece, and she wants it on her desk by tomorrow!”
He finally meets my eyes. His expression is hard and pleading like I’m a stranger trying to mug him on the street.
I hold his gaze, willing it to soften. “Reed. Please come back to the apartment with me. Ted is going to leave.”
He is a drop-dead gorgeous Witcher. It hurts, how gorgeous he looks. This is the sweetest thing.
“I need a second.” He turns, continuing toward the elevator.
“Okay, and you’ll come back?” When he doesn’t respond, my throat goes dry. “Reed, you’re gonna come back, right? We have to talk this through.”
He taps the down button, and the elevator doors slide open. I sprint the last few steps to slip into the car next to him before the doors rumble closed. He keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead.
“Reed. Please just tell me you’ll come back.”
He doesn’t respond.
“I’m going to give you a second. Just tell me we’ll be able to talk after?” I say quietly.
The elevator dings again. We’re at the lobby. Reed silently steps out and starts toward the street.
“Reed, this is ridiculous. You just got here, and there’s nothing happening, and I’m so happy to see you! I’m so confused!”
He pivots, his hardened gaze falling somewhere to the right of my face. “Can you step into my perspective for a second?”
I mash my lips together. “Okay?”
“Today I got on a plane, and I flew across the Atlantic Ocean to surprise my girlfriend and join her for her favorite part of the week. I spent the plane ride trying to speed finish Throne of Glass on my Kindle so I’d at least have basic knowledge of the characters at play.
I landed, changed into my full Witcher cosplay, and hopped in a car.
I texted my girlfriend—three times in the past thirty minutes—she didn’t respond. ”
“Oh my god. I didn’t see—” My voice cracks.
“I went up to her apartment and rang the bell only to find another guy there answering the door. We texted yesterday. She said nothing about a guy coming over on Sunday or a change of plans or an article she was working on.
“This guy who answered the door is about thirty. He’s not her dad—I’ve met him.
I thought the book club was four women, but maybe this guy’s in the book club.
But there are no women to be seen in the living room, and this guy’s dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt.
The apartment doesn’t seem to be decorated for WWU.
“The guy certainly doesn’t seem to have any inkling of who I might be, so I have to assume Rikki hasn’t told him she’s in a relationship.
“Then Rikki walks into the room. I’m simultaneously relieved and gutted. She’s wearing a white shirt and jeans. Not the getup she so excitedly described to me. And she doesn’t look happy.”
“I am happy—”
“I’m still dressed up in the doorway in full Witcher cosplay.
I bought the hard copy of Throne of Glass at an indie shop I found five blocks from here.
The man in her apartment says she and he are working together on a piece about their relationship.
Rikki just stands there, doesn’t introduce me, doesn’t try to explain anything further.
I am a sad fucking jackass from every angle.
“She hasn’t deemed me worthy of one drop of actual information about her week.
I babbled on and on about the shit I’ve been doing every day, and she reacted and shared selfies but really said nothing of note about her day-to-day.
She didn’t elaborate that she had an irritating writing piece she was roped into doing.
Didn’t vent that she had to cancel book club.
Didn’t really share anything. And in actuality she was hanging out with her ex?
” He bounces his glassy eyes to mine for a millisecond before returning them to the spot above my head.
“Does that all check out with you? Is that sound?”
I blink at him, a numbness crawling up my legs as he stands there, waiting for me to respond. “Reed—I didn’t do anything wrong. It was work.”
He nods once, lips pressed into a flat line, accentuating the hard angles of his face. “Yeah, I guess I’m fucking delusional.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a book. “I don’t want to keep this.”
He holds a jacketless hardcover out like he’s going to throw it to me. Instinctively I put out my hands, and he softballs it. I catch the book as he shoves open the door to the street.
“Who was that? Another guy you’re dating? Does he work in Times Square?” Ted laughs from the couch as I stumble back into the apartment and drop the book on the kitchen counter.
“You need to get the fuck out of my apartment, Ted.”
“Another breakup?”
“We didn’t break up. We’re just having a disagreement. He’s taking a second, and he’ll be back, and you have to leave.”
“What about the article?”
I throw my hands up. “I can write the article myself. I have your notes, I have your quotes. I’m good, Ted. Bye.”
Ted puts his laptop in his bag and stands awkwardly near the door. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it? It could be good for the piece.”
“Get the fuck out, Ted!”
He puts his hands up. “Jesus, okay.” He rolls his eyes, pulls open the door, and strides out.
I lock it behind him, snatch my phone off the coffee table, beeline for the bedroom, and throw myself onto the mattress.
I flip off “Do Not Disturb,” and the phone floods with notifications.
Four missed calls from my dad. Five more missed texts from my dad. I tap open the thread.
Dad [3:03 p.m.]: Another One, what the hell is he wearing
Dad [3:17 p.m.]: What’s going on over there Rikki!
Dad [3:19 p.m.]: Pick up the Goddamn Phone
Dad [3:23 p.m.]: The Blatant Disrespect for your father is deafening
Dad [3:24 p.m.]: ??!!!!
The phone starts ringing in my hand. My fingers tighten around the screen.
Dad.
Anger, untamed and seething, scorches down my spine.
I leap off the bed, a woman possessed as I stride into the living room and toss open the coat closet I never use.
There’s a yellow toolbox up on the shelf.
A replica of the one we had in our house when I was growing up.
I tug it down, open the cold metal top, grab the hammer, fling open the door, and swing.
And swing. And swing again. “Fuck this fucking camera, you fucking liar!”
Twenty seconds later the thing hangs in pieces off its mount.
A door flies open down the hall. “Rikki?”
“I’m fine, Micah!” I yell.
He closes the door.
I slam mine and lock it. Lean against it, breathing hard. “Fuck.”
I pull up Chrome and get the number for a locksmith. I call and book a time slot before pulling open my text thread with Reed.
Reed [2:37 p.m.]: Getting ready for the WWU?
Reed [2:44 p.m.]: I think there’s a new guy coming to join today.
Reed [2:50 p.m.]: made a pit stop on my way back to LA
Me [3:49 p.m.]: Reed! Where are you? How are you doing? When’s your flight to LA? Can I meet you somewhere?
Me [3:50 p.m.]: I’m so sorry I had my phone on do not disturb because we were doing interviews! I didn’t see these!
Me [3:55 p.m.]: Please please please come back. Please let’s talk this through.
Me [4:00 p.m.]: I know that must have activated some really bad memories and emotions and I’m so sorry! But this isn’t that! Ted is just some asshole who also works at the Minute.
Mom [5:45 p.m.]: Hon, you still have that big renegotiation thing tomorrow? I tried to call you but I guess you’re working. I wanted to wish you good luck!
And also run some more ideas about the bachelorette by you! What do you think of pop girlie theme? We could try to get tickets to Chappell Roan! She’s probably not in Vegas but we could just create the party around where she’s playing!
Mom [5:46 p.m.]: I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow, let me know how it goes! Layla says good luck too!
Jordyn [6:30 p.m.]: Should I come over? Micah says you destroyed the Ring camera?
Me [6:31 p.m.]: I just want to be alone right now but thanks. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.
Micah [6:31 p.m.]: Meeting’s at noon tomorrow, correct?
Me [6:33 p.m.]: Yep
Micah [6:34 p.m.]: Go get’EM
It’s midnight, and I’m on my side, puffy, and dehydrated when I remember Reed’s book.
I push myself up for the first time in hours and hop off the bed to the kitchen. Reed’s hard copy of Throne of Glass is on the table, abandoned in the sensory overload that was this afternoon.
I bring it back to my room and open the cover.
9/7/2024
Little City Books, Hoboken NJ
I’m taking a leap today. Surprising the woman I’m seeing by showing up at her apartment unannounced to join her book club.
She’s dropped in on me unannounced a couple of times now, and I think it’s high time I return the favor.
I haven’t felt like this since I was 16.
My 16-year-old relationship was built on shared experiences and firsts.
This is more. It’s based off a shared understanding of each other.
Shared passions. Flaws. Humor. Life goals. Ambitions. Attraction.
We slot together like we were built to collide.
She’s invaded my every thought and dream this past week.
I’ve been really intentional about opening up. Letting her know me.
And I think for once I’m doing an okay job with it.
She doesn’t think we’re going to see each other till the 14th.
Thought it’d be more fun this way. X
September 8—To Do
- 8 days till the Netflix pitch (all I’ve done is write out character profiles)
- 0 days till my Love Today contract renegotiation meeting (fml)
- Record the pod
- Get new salary sorted
- Get ahold of Reed