“You didn’t say we would have to do this again today.”

Octavia turned to Selena with a hand on her hip. “You are more than welcomed to leave if you’d like.” Octavia gave her a thin smile.

Selena squinted at Octavia and crossed the kitchen to stand in front of her. “Ever since your episode last night, all I’ve gotten from you is an attitude. You must want me to leave because I’m not too keen on staying where I’m not wanted.”

“I called you over here, remember,” Octavia said. “You’re wanted. Look around, traffic is already picking up, and the phone’s been ringing nonstop since 9 a.m. Believe me when I say I want you to stay. But I don’t want to hear you complain about it all day. My night was just as lousy as yours, so if you’ll please cut me some slack and help me out.” Octavia tossed her hands up. “Or don’t.” She walked past Selena to grab more bagels from the pantry.

“You could’ve just stopped at help me out.”

“Yeah, well, I just want you to know.”

“We need more people,” Selena said. “Even Adam is working double-time. Poor guy.”

“I know, but what do you suppose we do?”

“I was hoping Jonathon would come back. Have you heard from him?” Selena asked.

Octavia hadn’t heard from him, and keeping busy was all she could do to keep from worrying that she’d gone too far with her rant last night. After Jonathon left, Octavia had shut her bedroom door. She’d sank into her covers and tossed a pillow over her head, regretting every single thing she’d said to him. Stupid, she fumed. She’d tossed and turned with no sleep in sight before finally deciding she couldn’t do it anymore. As much as she tried to fight it, her and Jonathon’s connection was a bond she never wanted to break. Octavia left her bed, stuffing her feet inside a pair of running shoes that sat by the door. With her Betty Boop shirt on and a head bonnet covering her hair, Octavia had marched down the hallway to the front door. When she passed a mirror, Octavia did a one-eighty and ran back to the room to change into a pair of jeans and a simple V-neck sweater. She snatched the bonnet off and left the house determined to have it out with Jonathon.

Octavia needed to know exactly what it was he wanted, and she had every intention of revealing her love for him, completely. If he wanted to know about her troubles, Octavia was ready and willing to tell him right then, and all of that gusto went out the window the moment she’d knocked at his door and didn’t get an answer. Octavia looked over herself again and ran a self-conscious hand down her sweater and jeans.

She’d finger combed her hair, flipping it over her shoulder to her back, then brushing it back around to cuddle her neck. The longer the silence went on, the more she lost her nerve. It was possible that he could’ve been sleeping, but Jonathon hadn’t been gone a full hour when Octavia went after him. Doubt began to creep in, but before it settled, Octavia tried the doorbell one last time. With no answer, she dialed his number but received the voicemail. A little annoyed, Octavia called back, getting the same conclusion. For a long second, everything stood still, and Octavia’s mind shuffled. He wasn’t home, she’d decided. But where would he be?

Those thoughts were even more frightening. What if he’d gotten into an accident and been hurt? Octavia mulled over it for a second. His family would contact her if something happened to him. They knew Jonathon and Octavia were close. Octavia shook her head again. That couldn’t have been it. Could it? After another moment, her feet move toward the elevator. A million thoughts traveled through her mind, and Octavia found herself becoming irritated.

Back at home, she’d waited patiently for Jonathon to return her calls, but her phone had been quiet throughout the night. The following morning, Octavia woke up on the couch where she’d passed out while waiting for that phone call that never came. Their argument the night before had been bad, but she didn’t think he would completely ignore her if she put forth the effort to reach out to him. So Octavia tried again, dialing his number after she’d managed to pull herself from the shower. When his phone was answered, it had come with an unpleasant surprise.

“This is Jonathon’s phone. Can I take a message?”

Octavia paused. “Um…”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the woman asked tersely.

“Octavia.”

“Jonathon’s asleep, Octavia, but if it’s an emergency, I’ll wake him.”

Octavia wanted to question her and ask who she was, but without another word, she hung up, looking at the phone like it was a snake. In the time Octavia had known Jonathon, she’d rarely seen him with another woman. Secretly, Octavia hoped that was because Jonathon was interested in her only. Selena’s words came back to haunt her.

“If you keep on waiting, that fine ass man is gonna be off the market.”

A knot formed in Octavia’s stomach. Being one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen was the least of Jonathon’s attributes. He’d singlehandedly grown one of the largest security firms in the east coast and Midwest region. Rose Security Group had been given the regional business awards from Chicago’s commissioner, and named Best Private Security Company, receiving a Daily Choice Award every year for the past six years. Aside from that, Jonathon was presented with an entrepreneurial excellence award in 2016 when his company’s net worth reached two hundred and twenty million.

His philanthropy efforts were also at the top of the list. As executive director of Jan’s Roses, a nonprofit organization devoted to assisting families of home invasions, Jonathon had implemented one-on-one mental health services that would carry support for victims throughout their time of healing. Jan’s Roses was near to Jonathon’s heart. It was dedicated to his late mother Janet Rose, who passed away from a home invasion. During the time Octavia had known him, she’d watched how dedicated Jonathon was, and his sincerity always swelled her heart.

Jonathon’s efforts in the community didn’t stop there. As chapter president of Omega Psi Phi during his tenure at Howard University, Jonathon had headlined a plethora of events and social gatherings geared toward community outreach and building the brotherhood. Those efforts had followed him back home once he’d handed the reins to the next president. Jonathon was the type of guy to give you his last meal or lay down his life for yours if such a thing was necessary.

Stepping out of her thoughts, Octavia responded to Selena.

“I haven’t spoken to him since last night.” Octavia crossed the kitchen and proceeded to pull out more trays for the bagels and crème cheese breakfast samplers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll take over the phones for a while, and you can sit out the food.”

“Works for me,” Selena said a little too quickly. Octavia squinted at her then left the kitchen. She walked across the living room and found Adam trying to write down information from a caller. The front door opened, and Adam placed the caller on hold and skipped over to check out the volunteers who entered. Octavia strutted to the phone and took over the call.

“Yes, ma’am, would you like to leave your name?” Octavia listened to the caller. “Mrs. Sanders,” Octavia notated. “No, I can’t give you information on the investigation.”

“Well aren’t you the FBI?” the lady asked.

“No, ma’am, you’ve called the hotline for Ayana Bradwell not the FBI, but if you have information regarding Ayana Bradwell’s disappearance, I can take your information here.”

“Oh no, I only want to speak to an agent.”

“Ma’am, I assure you any information you have will get to the people investigating Ayana’s disappearance.”

The front door opened again, and with it came a cool draft and the only person in the world Octavia wanted to see. With his cell phone to his ear, Jonathon stepped into the room with a commanding presence, bringing a lineup of his security personnel. Octavia’s stare was broken momentarily when Selena strolled from the kitchen with the breakfast tray in hand and sat the food out for the guys to help themselves.

“I promise you, the FBI will receive the information, it will not get lost. I can give it over to the investigators right now,” Octavia said, taking her focus back to the front door. Jonathon was no longer standing there, and before she could look around the room, Octavia felt a warm hand cover hers. A sensation of heat ran through her, immense and magnetic. Octavia tilted her head to the side to find Jonathon towering over her. With ease, he removed the phone from her fingers and spoke through the receiver while keeping his eyes on Octavia.

“Good afternoon Mrs.…”

“Sanders,” Octavia whispered.

“Sanders, I understand you have some information for the FBI, how can I help you today?”

Octavia rose a brow as she listened to Jonathon coax the information from the senior woman. Cradling the phone between his shoulder, Jonathon reached for a pen which Octavia promptly handed over to him along with a notepad. He scribbled a few lines and a phone number and ended the call.

“Good morning,” he said, greeting Octavia warmly.

She smiled. “My mornings have been better, but I’m glad your day is beginning well.”

Jonathon arched a brow. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Octavia pressed her lips together and redirected her words. “Should I add impersonating a federal agent to your long list of traits?”

“I never said I was a federal agent.”

Octavia folded her arms and smirked. “Mmhmm. Listen, is it possible for me to speak to you for a minute?”

“You are speaking to me.”

“No, I mean, in private.”

The hotline rang again, and with strong will, Octavia didn’t roll her eyes. “Well, whenever I get a minute.” She reached for the phone, but Jonathon grabbed her hand, pulling her attention back to him.

“Let’s talk.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t right now. We need more people.”

Jonathon gestured around the room. “I brought plenty of people with me. I think one of them can handle the phones.”

“You think?” Octavia said, skeptically.

“Yeah.” Jonathon sent out a curt whistle. “Mike,” he called. A tall stock blonde hair, blue eyed fellow strolled to the table. “This is the hotline set up to take tips from the public. Can you take a few calls for me?”

“I got it,” Mike said.

Jonathon smiled over at Octavia. “See, he’s got it.”

Octavia smirked and grabbed Jonathon’s hand, pulling him along. They rounded the kitchen and walked down the hallway, disappearing in Octavia’s bedroom. The door closed with a click and Octavia faced him.

“I want to apologize for last night,” she said. “I was out of line, and honestly, I felt bombarded by you and Selena.”

“That was never my intention, Octavia.”

“I know it,” she quipped, “but I had just awakened from the dream to Selena standing there, and she kept asking me what was wrong.” Octavia smoothed her hands down her blouse and shuffled her gaze. “I wasn’t prepared for your inquiries, so I snapped.” Octavia let out a deep breath. “I’m not making excuses, it’s just I don’t want you to think you’re nobody to me, Jonathon.” Octavia pleaded with her eyes and their gazes held.

Jonathon took a step toward her. “Why didn’t you tell me about the dreams?” His voice was smooth but concerned.

Octavia glanced around her room. Although she’d been through this scenario a few times and imagined what she would say, nothing would fit into context now. Her eyes landed on the basket of clothes she’d taken out of the bathroom.

“Octavia.”

The commandment in his tone was enough to reiterate his question.

“I knew you would worry about me, and I didn’t want you to.”

“But you’re my girl, Octavia. I need to know when you’re hurting.” Jonathon reached out and cupped her face. “Is that the only reason?”

“For the most part, yeah.”

Jonathon’s brow lifted. “What’s up with you giving me half answers and keeping secrets from me? I thought we were better than that.”

“We are,” Octavia said. “I never meant those things I said last night.”

“They say even when you’re drunk the things you speak hold some truth.” Jonathon slid his hands into his pockets. “So, which is it, Octavia?”

Octavia clasped her hands together and held the tips of her fingers to her lips.

“Jonathon, I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m not upset. I was last night, but not now. I’m good. What I want to know more than anything, Octavia, is how you feel about our relationship. Where do I stand in your life?”

Octavia’s heart swelled. You are everything Jonathon, and you mean the world to me. It’s what she thought, but she said, “Let me make it up to you.” Octavia grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it.

Jonathon smirked. “How will you do that?”

“I’ll make you dinner and cook your favorite.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“With everything going on today, tonight, you’ll be exhausted.”

Octavia placed her hands on her hips. “I think I’m in pretty good shape to work throughout the day and spend a night making up to you.”

Jonathon’s lids lowered as his mind ventured to the many things Octavia could do to make it up to him. He knew she ran faithfully every morning, even on days she was running late to work. But putting in volunteer hours with the search and rescue team took an enormous amount of energy, and as much as he would love to watch her strut around the kitchen just to make him a meal, Jonathon knew she would need to take a load off later.

“Tomorrow night,” he said.

Octavia looked slightly disappointed. “Do you have plans or something?”

“Not necessarily,” he teased, still on a mission to feel her out.

“Oh… okay.”

It was hard for him to hold back a smirk, but he needed to see if she would question his whereabouts further.

“Tomorrow night then,” Octavia said, wanting to object all the way to the moon. She held out her hand for a shake. “Friends?”

Jonathon dropped his gaze to her hand and lifted a brow. Deciding to humor her, he took her soft fingers in his and shook on it.

“Friends,” he said.

A loud knock hit the door. “I’d hate to interrupt you guys, but we’re getting rushed out here,” Selena said.

Jonathon stepped to the side. “After you.”

They left the room and went to tackle the day. Phone calls were coming nonstop, and camera crews had moved in the neighborhood, focused on the wooded area. Instead of staying in with Octavia to handle phone calls and incoming volunteers, Jonathon had geared up with his men and went out to search for Ayana Bradwell. With constant commotion, the day had felt like two, and by the time 9 p.m. came, and the phones stopped ringing, Octavia was drained. She wanted to sink into the sofa, but decided to straighten things up a bit. As Selena swept the floor, Octavia washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. When the lemon fragrance hit the air, Octavia knew Selena was using her Mr. Clean, and it brought a small smile to her face thinking about when she’d purchased the all-purpose cleaner.

It had been during one of Octavia’s coupon clipping extravaganzas. She’d dragged Jonathon to the grocery store for what Jonathon thought would be a regular shopping experience. But when Octavia pulled out a book of coupons, Jonathon’s eyes had stretched.

“What?” Octavia had asked.

“How many coupons do you have?” he questioned.

Octavia tightened her lips to keep from laughing at the pained expression on his face. Jonathon reached over and plucked the coupon book out of her hands and flipped through it.

“O, why do you need all of these coupons?”

Octavia crossed her arms. “Because unlike some people who shall remain nameless, I like to save money when I can.” Octavia turned to the cashier who stood watching their back and forth. “I’m ready whenever you are,” Octavia told the clerk.

The cashier began ringing up her items, and Octavia turned back to Jonathon.

“You’re insinuating that I don’t like to save money,” he said.

“Why are you tripping on my coupons?”

Jonathon smiled lazily.

“That’ll be $352.93,” the cashier said.

Jonathon slipped the lady his Capitol One card, which she gladly took off his hands.

“Hey!” Octavia said. “I have coupons!” Octavia held the book in the air with a ghastly expression on her face.

Deep laughter sped from Jonathon, and he reached out and wrapped her up with a spin, bringing her back to his chest and her ear to his lips.

“Now you know I’m not about to stand by while you coupon shop. I don’t have anything against it, baby, but some other time, you feel me.”

 His voice beat down her skin in a layer of heat. She’d turned her face and almost kissed his lips unerringly. But the cashier had broken through their moment, handing Jonathon back his card and thanking them for shopping at the store. Octavia cherished their moments of intimacy, as simple as they sometimes seemed, and she couldn’t deny that thoughts of being his one and only were heavy on her mind. More today than ever before. It was one thing Octavia notice. The longer she spent time with Jonathon, the more she wanted to be with him.

“Girl, I’m going to be late for work tomorrow,” Selena said, coming to stand before a zoned out Octavia.

“Hmm?” Octavia said.

“What are you over here daydreaming about?”

“The Mr. Clean you’re using reminded me of something.” Octavia quickly changed the subject. “Why are you going to be late for work tomorrow?”

Selena put one gloved hand on her hip. “Because I need to get my beauty rest. That requires about eight good hours. By the time I get home, climb into a bubble bath, soak for about an hour and a half, get out and brush my teeth, apply my face moisturizer, wash it off, put on my facial mask, lotion my skin with body butter, have a conversation with my Lord and Savior, then get in the bed, it will be,” Selena glanced at her watch, “well after midnight. I’m supposed to be at work at seven.”

“Selena, don’t tell me that’s your nightly routine.”

Selena frowned. “Okay, I won’t tell you then. Either way, I’m going to be late tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know now.”

“Please, don’t be too late, okay? I can’t take on another client.”

“I don’t schedule appointments until nine.”

“Will you be there at nine?”

Selena nodded her head. “Yes – no…” she sang. “I should be, but if I’m tardy, you know what to do. Offer them some coffee and tell them I’m running a little late and will be in shortly.”

“I suppose,” Octavia said.

“Now before I go, tell me what were you just daydreaming about.”

Octavia smirked. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”