Calculated Exposure by Holley Trent

to do it before I went to Kannapolis last night.”
    “You were in Kannapolis? What the hell’s in Kannapolis?”
    Curt laughed. “Not what . Who.”
    “Internet girlfriend?”
    “No, bud. That’s your gig. I like to screen my women in real life.”
    Seth followed Curt to his leased car parked in the nearly empty staff lot. “Am I driving you home?”
    Seth grunted and got in. “Might as well. I took the bus. Runs slow on Saturdays.”
    After Curt got in and buckled his seatbelt, Seth asked, “So, where’d you meet her? Did you leave any there for me?”
    “Funny. Actually met in Ireland. Can kind of blame Grant.”
    “Shit, I knew I should have gone with you.”
    “You were busy doing summer graduation. I think that was more important than watching me bumble around Cork.” Curt eased into the congested side street and carefully navigated through the throngs of student pedestrians heading toward the stadium. “She was on holiday and the kids knocked her over at Grant’s school.”
    “Maybe I should borrow them. Or get a puppy. Women like babies and puppies.”
    Curt rolled his eyes. He didn’t think either of those things would make the guy any more approachable. He just had that I can hurt you without even trying vibe. At least he’d stopped shaving his head. When he was bald, he’d looked downright sociopathic, especially when he started swearing in Russian.
    “When can I meet her? You know, I never formally met Carla before she and Grant got married. Some friend.”
    “It’s just a tryst, man.” Probably one he’d never forget, but still.
    “Does she have a friend?”
    “I can find out. She’s Cuban, by the way. I know you Russians and Cubans go way back. Cold War buddies.”
    Seth wriggled his brows and got out as soon as Curt pulled up his parking brake.
    While Seth changed out of his “good” clothes, Curt slid in front of his computer and quickly sorted through his glut of emails. The ones from students, he flagged to assess and respond to later. Solicitations were quickly punted into the trash folder. He paused briefly to read, then re-read, a message from Grant which stated he may have had a shot at a position in US due to a certain faculty member’s untimely demise. He would be flying in.
     
    Pick me up from the airport ? he’d asked.
     
    That one Curt responded to in the affirmative. The last message, he stared out for a long while and took no action.
     
    “Hey, rubio. What are you doing tonight?”
     
    His finger hovered over the delete key briefly, but he paused a moment to let the implied invitation sink in. Rather than responding, he moved on to the press messages and replied to each with a pre-written copy and paste statement.
    It’d been a week. A week should have been long enough for the reporters to hang back, find someone else to shine a spotlight on, but they were getting increasingly curious about the quiet mathematician. With every arrest of a policeman, businessman, or politician involved in the crime, the interest in the woman who’d turned the town on its ear spiked. At least the news coverage hadn’t extended to the US yet.
    Before shutting down his computer, he revisited the message he’d ignored.
     
    “ Probably going to get drunk off my ass with Seth. ”
     
    Curt was about to click the send button, but thought better of it. Grown-ups used tact and that was a lesson he was trying to master. It was part of his de-assholeing treatment. He deleted and tried again.
     
    “ Don’t know. Have decisions to make. Will probably relax. ”
     
    He figured that was gentle enough. But since when did he care about gentle?
    She must have been in front of her computer because she instantly responded.
     
    “ You could come relax here . I’ll make it worth the drive. ”
     
    That made him pick up his phone.
    “ Yes ?” she answered in a sultry purr.
    “What does that mean? Are you feeding me or screwing my brains out? Either way sounds like a good deal.”
    At