“I hope I didn’t disappoint you too much, Mr. Julian.”
“Quite the opposite, actually. In fact, I rather enjoyed this little chat.”
“If you have any further questions about the Center, please feel free to give me a call,” I say.
“Believe me, I will. Thank you, Lily.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up quickly. It’s pretty clear to me from my brief acquaintance with the man that Asher Julian is quite skilled in the art of charming information out of people, but I won’t fall victim to his ploy.
I can’t blame him, I guess. He’s only doing his job, and the Cunningham news leaked at a very opportune time for him. Still, I’m pissed. Why does every article have to revolve around some scandal? Why can’t anyone just write a piece about a small but dedicated organization pushing through a difficult time?
I hope I haven’t screwed this up for us. What if he decides that it’s not worth running our story without some juicy Cunningham gossip thrown in? Dad will kill me if he finds out.
But I don’t have time to worry about that right now. My phone rings again almost immediately, and it’s the woman who rented the gallery for this upcoming Saturday. She’d been planning to use the facility for an engagement party for her son and his fiancée, but apparently the happy couple is no longer… happy. She wants to cancel, but she’s pissed that she’ll lose her deposit. And so, of course, she takes out her frustration on me.
Just another fun day at the Frazer Center.
An hour later, when I finally get her off the phone, I’m done. Between thedecided we’d wait to have sex.it10 tabloids and Asher Julian and my last call, I’m ready to call it a day.
I need to fix something. Anything. I pull out my phone. I don’t care if Calder’s on his way out of town. I’m desperate to make something right in my life.
Hey, I text. I have a proposition for you.
I force myself to work on the stack of registration forms while I wait for his response, and I lunge for the phone as soon as I hear the beep.
What sort of proposition?
I smile to myself. The sort he won’t be able to refuse.
A game, I type. Something to make sure you miss me while you’re gone.
I still have a lot to learn about Calder, but one thing I do know: he can’t resist a little friendly competition. Things have been shaky between us recently, and if he won’t let us have sex, then there are other ways for us to connect.
What game are you proposing? he asks.
I can’t help but grin as I type. I was thinking Truth or Dare.
He doesn’t respond for a long moment, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But then, finally, my phone beeps again.
You aren’t allowed to dare me to have sex.
I almost laugh out loud. Still, I have to admire his stubbornness. It will make victory that much more enjoyable.
Fine, I respond. But everything else is fair game.
There’s another long pause, but this time I know I have him.
You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, my dear, he texts.
Bring it on, I reply.
He takes my challenge to heart, launching right in.
Him: Right now? Where are you?
Me: At work. Being very productive.
Him: Sounds like it. So which will it be? Truth or dare?
Me: Who said you get to ask first?
Him: I did.
Me: Fine. But we have to name stakes first.
Him: Aren’t there already stakes in Truth or Dare?
Me: I mean if someone refuses to do something.
Him: I’m guessing you have something in mind? And then: Sex is still not allowed.
I bite my lip. I know what I want to say. I want to help him, want to chase the darkness away from his mind, and I can only comfort him if I know what’s going on. But demanding outright that he reveal his family secrets is pushy, even for me. I have to play this carefully.
Me: If you refuse to do something, you have to tell me about that call you took during our first date.
Something shifted between us the moment he took that call. If I can get to the bottom of that conversation, then I can help him. Help us.
Calder doesn’t respond for sever nipples and crotch somethingpaal minutes. I start to grow anxious, afraid that I went a step too far.
But then: If you refuse to do something, you have to tell your dad about us.
Damn. He knows what he’s doing. But there’s no backing out now.
Agreed, I text him.
Him: Let’s go then. Truth or dare?
Well, then. I guess he’s ready to go. Let’s start this game right.
Dare, I text back.
I force myself to start working on the class registrations again while I wait for him to come up with an appropriate challenge. Needless to say, in spite of my best efforts I don’t get much done before my phone beeps again.
Him: Are you at your desk?
Me: Yes.
Him: Alone?
Me: Yes.
Him: Is your door open?
Me: Yes.
I’m a little nervous now, but good nervous—the kind that makes my heart beat faster and my skin prickle in anticipation. But I’m still not prepared for his next message.
I want you to get yourself off, right now.
I stare at the screen for a long time. I’m still contemplating how to respond when my phone begins to buzz again, but it’s the call tone this time.
“Hello?” I breathe.
“Well?” Calder sounds far too amused. “Not backing out already, are we?”
“For someone who’s insisting we hold out on sex, you’re sure heating things up right out of the gate.”
“You said that everything else goes.”
Ah, I get it now. He’s trying to scare me off from the start, knock me out before we’ve even begun to play. He knows he’ll never be able to maintain his no-sex plan if we continue this game, but he’s too proud to refuse to play along with me. And so he’s trying to get me to back out on the very first round.
He should know me better than that.
“All right,” I say.
I can’t tell whether he’s more surprised or excited by my answer.
“You have to stay on the phone with me,” he tells me. “So I know you’re doing it.”
“I’m not going to moan or anything. This isn’t a porno.”
“You don’t have to make a sound. I’ll know.”
I shiver at the surety in his voice. He’s probably bluffing, but I don’t mind keeping him on the line. If I’m going to do this, I want him to hear it. I want to get him so worked up he’ll have no choice but to jump me the next time he sees me.