I know that isn’t the answer that will advance my career, that won’t get me out of Milwaukee and into a bigger market. Instead of saying what I want to say, I broaden my plastic smile. “She is? I’m sorry to hear that. Does Lonnie need me to stay?”
“Yes. He does. We all do.”
“Not a problem,” I say, as I notice the cameraman from earlier. His scowl has morphed into something deeper, something closer to anger. Lighten up, buddy. It isn’t like he has to stay, just because I am. The eleven o’clock set has its own crew. His night is free. I’m the one tied up.
D ead on my feet . That’s how I feel as the stage crew untangles me from my wires for the third time today. My feet ache from the shoes I have only sat in. My legs cramp from the way they are perched on the bar beneath my chair, crossed daintily at the ankle.
“Erika,” the eleven o’clock co-anchor, Shawn, calls as he is also freed from his microphone and other apparatus. “Thanks for filling in. I’ll buy you a drink.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, Shawn. I’m beat. I need to get home.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Come on, there’s a group of us. It’s Friday. We all need to unwind.”
I roll my neck to relieve a few kinks. “Rain check?”
“Well, at least let me or one of the stagehands walk you to your car. The garage is no place for you to be alone at this time of night.”
“I’m good. I parked close.” I look down at my shoes as I contemplate going back to my dressing room to change. “Quick change and I’ll be out of here. I hope Tamara is feeling better by Monday.”
In no time at all, I have my shoes stowed away with various other pairs that stay at the news studio and have my Chuck Taylors laced up. I have jeans and a top to change into, but I don’t want to take the time. As I reach for my purse, secured in the cabinet near my desk, I see the note:
Don’t leave without the red heels .
I swallow as my pulse quickens. Slowly I look around the room. No one is supposed to come in here, not without me. Who left the note?
I shake off the feeling the note gives me, chalk it up to sleepiness, and crumple it into a ball. I reach for my purse and head out.
A short elevator ride and I’m in the parking garage.
Where’s my car?
E rika steps from the elevator , still wearing the dress from the set. It’s a different one than the one she wore at five-thirty and six. I know, because I caught most of the eleven o’clock news live on my phone’s app.
She’s absolutely gorgeous in the blue v-neck dress and on her feet are high-top tennis shoes as she scans the garage. The hint of panic as she searches for her car adds to my excitement. I want her on edge. I plan to keep her that way, begging for mercy that only I can give.
I narrow my eyes and feel the vein in my neck pulsate. Other than her purse, she’s not carrying anything else. Where the hell are the red heels? She had to see my note.
The offenses continued to mount.
I straighten my neck. Erika Ellis has a way to go in learning to be obedient. My cock twitches with my plans to teach her.
First, she agreed to work the eleven o’clock news, and I almost lost it. All my plans, the ones I’d worked diligently to get into place...they were supposed to start earlier, but I told myself it was OK. I could adapt. Five hours wouldn’t matter, not when we had the rest of our lives together.
When I was in Erika’s office, I’d taken her keys and moved her car. I took it back to her apartment while she was still at the station and parked it on the street without anyone noticing. I’d considered just abducting her from the garage, but if I had, her car would have been left here all weekend. That could have raised questions.
The last thing I want is any of her co-workers calling and interrupting our plans. This weekend is about us.
As Erika reaches for her phone, I pull up beside her and lower my window. “ Ms. Ellis , is there a problem?”
Her blue
“Yes. He does. We all do.”
“Not a problem,” I say, as I notice the cameraman from earlier. His scowl has morphed into something deeper, something closer to anger. Lighten up, buddy. It isn’t like he has to stay, just because I am. The eleven o’clock set has its own crew. His night is free. I’m the one tied up.
D ead on my feet . That’s how I feel as the stage crew untangles me from my wires for the third time today. My feet ache from the shoes I have only sat in. My legs cramp from the way they are perched on the bar beneath my chair, crossed daintily at the ankle.
“Erika,” the eleven o’clock co-anchor, Shawn, calls as he is also freed from his microphone and other apparatus. “Thanks for filling in. I’ll buy you a drink.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, Shawn. I’m beat. I need to get home.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Come on, there’s a group of us. It’s Friday. We all need to unwind.”
I roll my neck to relieve a few kinks. “Rain check?”
“Well, at least let me or one of the stagehands walk you to your car. The garage is no place for you to be alone at this time of night.”
“I’m good. I parked close.” I look down at my shoes as I contemplate going back to my dressing room to change. “Quick change and I’ll be out of here. I hope Tamara is feeling better by Monday.”
In no time at all, I have my shoes stowed away with various other pairs that stay at the news studio and have my Chuck Taylors laced up. I have jeans and a top to change into, but I don’t want to take the time. As I reach for my purse, secured in the cabinet near my desk, I see the note:
Don’t leave without the red heels .
I swallow as my pulse quickens. Slowly I look around the room. No one is supposed to come in here, not without me. Who left the note?
I shake off the feeling the note gives me, chalk it up to sleepiness, and crumple it into a ball. I reach for my purse and head out.
A short elevator ride and I’m in the parking garage.
Where’s my car?
E rika steps from the elevator , still wearing the dress from the set. It’s a different one than the one she wore at five-thirty and six. I know, because I caught most of the eleven o’clock news live on my phone’s app.
She’s absolutely gorgeous in the blue v-neck dress and on her feet are high-top tennis shoes as she scans the garage. The hint of panic as she searches for her car adds to my excitement. I want her on edge. I plan to keep her that way, begging for mercy that only I can give.
I narrow my eyes and feel the vein in my neck pulsate. Other than her purse, she’s not carrying anything else. Where the hell are the red heels? She had to see my note.
The offenses continued to mount.
I straighten my neck. Erika Ellis has a way to go in learning to be obedient. My cock twitches with my plans to teach her.
First, she agreed to work the eleven o’clock news, and I almost lost it. All my plans, the ones I’d worked diligently to get into place...they were supposed to start earlier, but I told myself it was OK. I could adapt. Five hours wouldn’t matter, not when we had the rest of our lives together.
When I was in Erika’s office, I’d taken her keys and moved her car. I took it back to her apartment while she was still at the station and parked it on the street without anyone noticing. I’d considered just abducting her from the garage, but if I had, her car would have been left here all weekend. That could have raised questions.
The last thing I want is any of her co-workers calling and interrupting our plans. This weekend is about us.
As Erika reaches for her phone, I pull up beside her and lower my window. “ Ms. Ellis , is there a problem?”
Her blue
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