There was the leader. He stood against the back wall, holding up another man by the arm.
I was locked in, staring back at Sia’s mystery man. I couldn’t help but note the irony. She’d given up on him—and was now probably writhing underneath my neighbor—just as he appeared.
Once again, he was dressed as the others—black jackets, black shirts, and slacks—but he was different. I’d never heard him speak, but I knew he was the alpha. He was strong, authoritarian, and somehow I knew he was intelligent. A darkness began swirling in me, filling me up. I didn’t know where it came from, and I couldn’t make sense of it, but it was addicting. My blood began to buzz, and my heart picked up its pace. I couldn’t look away. His eyes narrowed, and he stared right back at me as the doors started to close.
I moved forward again. I wanted to see more. Just before the doors closed, I glanced down and saw the pool of blood at his feet.
The doors closed. I stepped back to watch.
The elevator stopped on the floor above Jake’s.
Mrs. Sailer,
I enjoyed your email, and yes, we’d love to have you back on the team. Your column position was filled last year, so unfortunately, we’ll have to bring you in on an assignment-based capacity until more openings occur. Please send me any ideas you have, and we can proceed from there. I’m excited to get in touch and talk further.
Sincerely,
Tina Gais
Editor-in-Chief
Onlooker Online Magazine
I read that email once, then again, and a third time. I’d received it this morning, and I was trying to create a list of ideas, but found myself going back to read it all over again. There was no mention of Liam’s death, what I’d been through, or why they’d had to fill my position. Yep. No word on how they’d promised I could take all the time I needed to mourn. No one could replace me, and they were thinking of me always. No mention of any of the supportive messages they’d sent me when I let them know I needed more time. Being a relationship advice columnist when the love of my life had just died hadn’t been one of those things I could bounce back into.
My gaze shifted from the email to my list of ideas. So far I had a number one…and nothing else. That blank number one had taken a whole hour to figure out. I felt it was promising. I rolled my eyes. Who was I kidding? I still wasn’t there. My column was taken. I had to send back new ideas, not my old ones. No more stories on why Mr. Settle-For-You would never compare to Mr. Perfect-For-You. I was such a sap.
I hunched back over the computer and typed:
Ten things to do if your husband dies.
#1. Move out of your shared house. It saves time on being haunted.
#2. Hide the booze from others. You’ll want it on those nights when everyone leaves you alone, and that happens faster than you think.
#3. Smile. They may be perfect strangers, but they don’t like to be reminded they are.
#4. Get plastered every night so you don’t play your husband’s death over and over again in your head. This ties back to #1.
#5. ---------------
I shoved back from the computer. I couldn’t send that. Going into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. That person staring back, she was most definitely a downer. Sad eyes. Bags under those same dark eyes. Hair that used to shine in the sunlight—that was what Liam had said. It was a sandy-color blond that fell past my shoulders. It looked like a limp mop now. I shook my head, cleared my thoughts. Yes, whoever was staring back at me wasn’t me. She was grieving, but me, I was trying to live again.
Sia had said to try to get back to work. That would help. This morning was my first real try at it.
It was a big-time fail.
I was supposed to meet Sia for lunch at Gianni’s, and instead of us walking together, I’d gotten a message from her earlier just to meet her there. That meant I had three hours to kill before walking down the block, and writing had been supposed to fill that time.
I eyed my sneakers and headphones. I’d been avoiding Dawn in the gym, but she was friendlier lately. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I considered… I could do a hard workout and still be done with stretching and even cool down before she entered the elevator. It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid Dawn. I just didn’t want to push my luck with her. Sia was her new bestie, or so she thought, and I didn’t want to be pulled into the middle of that either—just like Sia and Jake and whatever was going to happen with them.
I grunted. Even Sia was better at living my new life than me, and thinking about that, my decision was made.
Changing clothes, I grabbed my sneakers and laced them up. My headphones in one hand and my phone in the other, I headed downstairs. The doors slid open at the lobby, and I stepped out, turning toward the door to the back area.
“You’re going for a workout, Miss Addison?”
“Addison, Ken.” He still refused. “Just Addison.”
Ken stepped out of his office and chuckled, his wrinkled face immediately rounding. His cheeks colored, and he pulled his hat off, tucking it against his chest. “Might you feel up for a run today, Addison?”
My name came out so reluctantly. I could imagine his teeth grinding together. Wait. What did he say? A run? “Is the gym closed?” I usually used the elliptical, then the treadmill for my cool down.
“No, ma’am.”
“Ken,” I warned.
“No, Addison.” His gaze shifted to my left, over my shoulder. “Our running track’s nicely heated, though, if you were to feel up for a real run today.”