Chapter Eleven
Julia
The wine knocked me out as soon as my body hit the bed, thankfully. Artimus was the only thing on my mind as I bathed that night. I thought of a million reasons why I needed to go to his bedroom, but I was lucky enough that all the wine I’d drunk made me too tired to think of any excuse that stuck. It kept my ass in my own bed, leaving the boss alone for the night.
I’d have been humiliated if I’d woken up in his bed.
Getting up super early so I could get back to my apartment to get ready for the workday, I called Artimus’s driver, telling him I was ready to be picked up.
As I walked out of the building, I found dawn had come, and it was light enough outside for me to see my surroundings. To my astonishment, I saw Price Stone sitting in his car just across the street from the building Artimus lived in.
To make things even more astonishing, he stayed long enough to wave at me before taking off with a frown on his face.
Is he stalking me?
If he was, he didn’t seem to even be trying to hide what he was doing anymore. And that was scary.
I got into the backseat of the car and took my cell out of my purse, debating whether or not to call the jackass and bitch him out.
In the end, I decided not to engage with him. I’d leave him thinking that I didn’t care what he was doing. Maybe that would finally show him that I wasn’t going to give him any of my attention. Maybe then he’d move on.
I’d come to the conclusion that Price Stone had never been told no before. That had to be the reason he was being so tenacious—he liked getting his way, and I wasn’t letting him.
The driver waited outside of my apartment building while I got ready, so I hurried, thankful that Bethey was still asleep and out of my way. Sharing one bathroom wasn’t always easy.
Going back down to the car, I found Price sitting in his own vehicle just across the street again. He waved once more, and I shot the finger at him.
I knew I shouldn’t have done that. It was just giving him attention, after all. But I couldn’t stand him thinking he was getting away with anything.
Once again, I held my cell phone in my hands, contemplating calling him and telling him he had to back off or I was going to have to go to the authorities to make him stop.
But as I sat there in the back of the car, thinking about that, I knew no one would help me. Except for that one time, the time I didn’t even report to the police, Price hadn’t hurt me at all. He’d just asked me for another chance and told me how sorry he was.
Who would go out of their way to help me when I’d missed the opportunity to turn him in when he’d first hit me?
Getting to the office, I went inside, looking over my shoulder to see if Price’s car was anywhere to be seen. I didn’t see anything, so I went inside and up to my office.
How could Price think he could just keep bothering me like this? I had told him a million times that things were over between us, forever. I didn’t even want to be the man’s friend. And yet, he still had the audacity to follow me around.
Did he know I’d spent the night with my boss? Had he followed the car when Artimus and I left the station last night to go to his place? And if he had, had he gone so far as to go inside and try to find out which apartment was Artimus’s?
My mind ran away with me as I went up the long elevator ride to the top floor. On one hand, I wasn’t afraid of Price at all. On the other, there was a nagging worry that he might do something crazy.
As if following me around the city wasn’t crazy enough already, I scoffed to myself. But what would I do if he took things even further?
What if he hit me again? Would I call the police? Or would I walk away, the way I had last time, and not report a thing to anyone at all?
I hadn’t told a single soul what he’d done to me. Shame filled me about that now.
I should’ve told at least one other person about that incident, when the bruises were still fresh for them to see.
Now he could say I was lying, and I wouldn’t have even one person to back me up on what my accusations were.
I’d made a big mistake, I was realizing, but I had no idea how to rectify it at all.
When I got to the top of the building and stepped off the elevator, I saw Brady scrubbing away at the seats in the lobby. “Good morning, Brady. Is the boss in yet?”
“Not yet, Julia.” He stopped his incessant cleaning to point down the hall, the blue surgical gloves on his hands making them stand out. “Someone sent bagels and donuts to all of us up here on the top floor this morning. If you’re interested, it’s all in the first conference room. I’ve left that door open, so everyone can go in and grab something if they want.”
With a nod, I asked, “Have you grabbed anything for yourself?”
“Oh, not me,” He shook his head as he gave me a serious look. “I only eat what I make myself. One never knows what someone else might be doing to the food, after all. But you go ahead and enjoy. You eat out all the time. Your stomach is practically the same as a stray dog’s by now.”
With no idea how to take that, I decided to forgo the food and went straight to my office. Brady, being a major germaphobe, didn’t intend to say rude things like that, but from time to time some managed to come out. I couldn’t let it get to me.
Opening the laptop on top of my desk, I took a seat then set to work on checking out last night’s ratings. My fingers drummed on the desktop as I looked at some satisfying numbers.
After a few minutes, the phone on my desk rang, which hadn’t happened once since my first day. I answered it without having a clue as to who it was, which felt odd after having Caller ID on my phone forever. “Hello?”
“Julia Bengal, please,” came a woman’s voice.
“This is she,” I answered, feeling a little odd about it for some reason.
“This is WOLF reception in the lobby. I’ve got Price Stone from The New York Times here to see you, Miss Bengal.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Why is he here?
“He doesn’t have an appointment,” I finally managed to get out as I bit my pinky fingernail nervously. I did not want Price Stone up in my office at all.
“She says you haven’t made an appointment, Mr. Stone. Would you like me to see if she has time available to see you soon?” she asked Price.
“Please,” I could hear him say. “It’s very important that I see her this morning.”
I had to wonder why that would be. He and I didn’t have one thing to talk about.
“He’d like to make an appointment then, Miss Bengal,” she informed me.
I had no idea what the hell to say to that. But finally, something came to me just as Artimus strolled through my door. “I’m not accepting any appointments this week. He’ll have to call next week to see if I’m free. Bye.” I hung up the phone as Artimus walked toward me.
He shook his head as he looked at me. “What was that about, Julia? You look a bit shaken.”
“Someone wanted to make an appointment with me. It didn’t seem right, so I made up an excuse, saying I’m busy all week. I didn’t know what else to do.” My hands were clasped in my lap, but I began to fist them with aggravation and a little bit of fear, too.
What the hell is Price thinking?
The phone in Artimus’s office began to ring, and I jumped up to answer it, nearly sprinting from my office to his. I picked up the phone, feeling Artimus right behind me. “Artimus Wolfe’s office, Julia speaking.”
“Julia, it’s me, Price. What the hell are you doing?” His words came out sounding tense, as if he were clenching his jaw.
I couldn’t talk to him the way I wanted to with Artimus standing so close. “How can I help you today, sir?”
“Oh, I get it. Playing it up for the boss man. Sure, I can go along with that, baby. I’d like to interview him for the New York Times. What do you say? Think you can hook me up?” I could feel my body go rigid at what appeared to be his stupendous idea for infiltrating my job. “And I’ve already sent a peace offering, too. Did you get the donuts and bagels I had sent to you guys this morning?”
So he was the one who’d sent the food. I was sure glad I hadn’t had any of it. “No,” came my stoic response. It took quite a bit to make that one word come out sounding so calm. I wanted to scream it, along with a string of curse words that would’ve made sailors blush.
“No, huh?” He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I should talk directly to him then, since you’re being difficult. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you forgive me for one drunken mistake, baby?”
I hated that he still called me baby. I hated that he’d come to the place I worked and planned on using Artimus to get to me. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t care about you?” Price just couldn’t seem to stop himself, as he went on, “I can’t stop doing that, and you know that. Look, I know I was your first real boyfriend. You just don’t know how couples work. People make mistakes, and then they say they’re sorry, and then you forgive them and move on with the relationship. It’s what grownups do, baby. I was drunk. You shouldn’t hold the sober me accountable for what the drunk me did. Hell, I don’t even remember doing any of what you told me I did the next day.”
“Well, I’m sorry that you don’t understand.” I started thinking about my job and what that meant. I couldn’t just say that Artimus couldn’t do the interview without asking him about it. “Let me ask my boss, and I’ll get back to you about that.”
“Great. You’ve got my number. I look forward to hearing your pretty voice on my cell again. I’ve missed you like you can’t understand, baby.”
I hated the man. “Bye.”
Artimus looked at me with a curious expression. “Ask me what?”
Placing the phone back on his desk, I took a deep breath so the anger I felt wouldn’t come through in my words. “Price Stone from The New York Times would like to interview you.”
Artimus put one hand into his pocket while the other held his chin. “Do you know if he’s any good?”
He’s no good at all. He’s a man who hits women!
But as a writer, he was excellent. I couldn’t say anything other than that. “He’s good at his job, sir.”
Artimus furrowed his brow. “Sir? I don’t think that’s necessary, Julia. Just Artimus is fine. Let’s not go backward. And if he’s good and you can vouch for that, then I’m fine with doing the interview. It might get us even more viewers, right?”
I knew that it would. So even though I didn’t want him to do the interview with Price, I had to say, “It should.”
But I don’t want to be around the asshole.
Artimus took his seat behind his desk. Pulling open the top drawer, he looked over the large calendar inside. “Set it up for a week from this Friday. At the penthouse. And I want you to be there too.”
I’d known he would. “Of course.”
And now I have to see that fucking ass-wipe again and try to hide everything from Artimus. Shit!