get started on some ideas for the Maybelline project; she could shut herself up in her room for at least a few hours. It would give her a chance to think.
Hearing nothing, Alex slowly opened the door, peeking into the main room of the apartment. She scanned what she could see of the living room and kitchen, seeing nothing, and darted to the bathroom door, her bare feet silent on the wood floor.
As she reached for the handle, the knob turned, and Rick opened the door. Alex froze, her breath held, unsure of what to do or say.
“Good morning,” Rick said, before stepping past her, heading for the kitchen.
“Um,” Alex said, hesitating. “Good Morning.” She didn’t know what she expected, for him to wrap his arms around her, kissing her passionately? For him to be in the kitchen cooking a romantic breakfast in bed for her? Strange, that a curt ‘good morning’ was all he said to her, after the night that they had had together. She watched his back as he crossed to the sink, filled a cup with water and poured it into the coffee maker, went about his morning routine, not paying her any attention at all. Her bladder screamed for attention, and she darted into the bathroom, shutting the door hard behind her.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, her face washed, hair combed and tied back, and her teeth sparkling clean. She walked into the kitchen, past where Rick was seated on a barstool at the island sipping his coffee and staring at the screen of his cell phone. Pulling a cup from the cupboard, she filled it at the sink and started a cup of coffee for herself. As it was brewing she turned to him. “Um,” she said weakly before clearing her throat and beginning again. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” he said, not looking up from the phone. “I got an email from the officer in charge of your stalker case. He said that the fingerprints on the photographs were all from us, as I expected. He wants to see us in his office tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. Calling the police had gotten them nowhere. There was no way that they could help her. She slumped against the counter, hanging her head. Tears threatened to spill over. The whole situation was hopeless.
“Are you planning on going to the office today?” Rick asked her, coming behind the counter and rinsing his cup in the sink before putting it into the dishwasher. He didn’t come to her, didn’t put his arms around her for comfort. He didn’t even make eye contact with her as she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“What?” she said, sniffling. “No, I don’t want to go anywhere. I can work from here today.”
“Good,” Rick replied, turning to head toward his room. He returned a moment later, a black jacket over his shirt, his gun holster tucked beneath, barely visible. He pulled his keys from his pocket, heading for the door. “Stay here,” he said. “Keep the doors and windows locked.”
She sniffled, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t want to be left alone, not now. She was feeling hopeless, and afraid. She ached for him to put his arms around her, comfort her and keep her warm, but he was leaving, and in a hurry. This was so much worse than she had expected. She had thought that they might have a moment of awkwardness, dancing around the issue of what last night’s lovemaking had meant, what was to become of them now. She didn’t expect him to be so cold, unfeeling, uncaring. “Where are you going?” she asked, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I have something I have to do,” he said, pulling open the door. He walked out, shutting the door firmly
Hearing nothing, Alex slowly opened the door, peeking into the main room of the apartment. She scanned what she could see of the living room and kitchen, seeing nothing, and darted to the bathroom door, her bare feet silent on the wood floor.
As she reached for the handle, the knob turned, and Rick opened the door. Alex froze, her breath held, unsure of what to do or say.
“Good morning,” Rick said, before stepping past her, heading for the kitchen.
“Um,” Alex said, hesitating. “Good Morning.” She didn’t know what she expected, for him to wrap his arms around her, kissing her passionately? For him to be in the kitchen cooking a romantic breakfast in bed for her? Strange, that a curt ‘good morning’ was all he said to her, after the night that they had had together. She watched his back as he crossed to the sink, filled a cup with water and poured it into the coffee maker, went about his morning routine, not paying her any attention at all. Her bladder screamed for attention, and she darted into the bathroom, shutting the door hard behind her.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, her face washed, hair combed and tied back, and her teeth sparkling clean. She walked into the kitchen, past where Rick was seated on a barstool at the island sipping his coffee and staring at the screen of his cell phone. Pulling a cup from the cupboard, she filled it at the sink and started a cup of coffee for herself. As it was brewing she turned to him. “Um,” she said weakly before clearing her throat and beginning again. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” he said, not looking up from the phone. “I got an email from the officer in charge of your stalker case. He said that the fingerprints on the photographs were all from us, as I expected. He wants to see us in his office tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. Calling the police had gotten them nowhere. There was no way that they could help her. She slumped against the counter, hanging her head. Tears threatened to spill over. The whole situation was hopeless.
“Are you planning on going to the office today?” Rick asked her, coming behind the counter and rinsing his cup in the sink before putting it into the dishwasher. He didn’t come to her, didn’t put his arms around her for comfort. He didn’t even make eye contact with her as she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“What?” she said, sniffling. “No, I don’t want to go anywhere. I can work from here today.”
“Good,” Rick replied, turning to head toward his room. He returned a moment later, a black jacket over his shirt, his gun holster tucked beneath, barely visible. He pulled his keys from his pocket, heading for the door. “Stay here,” he said. “Keep the doors and windows locked.”
She sniffled, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t want to be left alone, not now. She was feeling hopeless, and afraid. She ached for him to put his arms around her, comfort her and keep her warm, but he was leaving, and in a hurry. This was so much worse than she had expected. She had thought that they might have a moment of awkwardness, dancing around the issue of what last night’s lovemaking had meant, what was to become of them now. She didn’t expect him to be so cold, unfeeling, uncaring. “Where are you going?” she asked, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I have something I have to do,” he said, pulling open the door. He walked out, shutting the door firmly
Similar Books
