Allison

Surviving His Wrath

My life is a complete disaster. I came into work yesterday exhausted because we couldn’t get a flight out of California until seven in the evening. That meant we didn’t get home until after midnight, and I didn’t get to sleep until well after two, not that I slept much anyway.

My boss and Caroline were waiting in my office for me with someone from H.R. I thought I was going to be fired, but it was worse, much worse. They were there to inform me that the film and photographs that were taken on my first trip to Montana to cover the Sexiest Man Alive one year later story were legally theirs. They forced me to turn them over, and after that, they told me that they were naming me as Ridge’s girlfriend in an article that was set to run today with one of my photographs as the cover.

I promptly told them that would be slander, as Ridge and I are no longer dating after their meddling in my personal affairs to which they responded ‘we don’t care.’ I begged them not to do it. First, I tried the compassionate angle, hasn’t he been through enough, he was found not guilty, he just wants to live in peace.

When that didn’t work, I tried another tactic saying it’s been five years, and nobody is going to care what he’s doing now. That didn’t fly either, and I was thinking of quitting and going to another magazine with the story that Realm is making up lies about innocent people to boost sales, but the chick from H.R. put a stop to that. It was like she was reading my mind. She said if I didn’t go along with the story, I would be blackballed in the magazine industry. They had a letter all written up to send to every major magazine in the U.S. stating that I was a dangerous, disgruntled employee with a mental illness that shouldn’t be hired under any circumstances.

Even though I know it’s illegal not to hire someone due to a mental illness, especially a nonexistent one, the fact that they had thought that far in advance scared me.

So here I am sitting in my office with the door locked bawling and staring at this week’s issue of Realm Magazine. Of all the photo’s they had to choose from, and there were a lot, they chose a shot that I took of Ridge working late one night to slap on the cover. The photo isn’t intimate to anyone but us. I took it with the intention of interrupting his work so he would come to bed with me. We ended up having sex on his desk, on the couch, and finally in the bedroom.

Thank God I separated business from pleasure or Realm would have some racy shots of both of us.

It doesn’t matter now anyway. He refuses to take my calls, and when he sees the magazine, any chance we had of reconciling will be gone forever. Now I am stuck working for a company and people I loathe and living in a shitty neighborhood with no hope of ever getting out without the man I love. How did I get here? Just two months ago I was optimistic and looking forward to a better future. Now I just want to go home and hide under the covers in my bed—preferably forever.

I blow my nose and shut off the screen. I can’t look at it anymore. And the article, oh God, the article is awful. I’m still trying to find out how they got all of the info for that piece of literary garbage. There were grains of truth to everything in it, but the author twisted it all up to make Ridge look like a perverted monster preying on a billionaire’s children. And the way they portrayed Ash and Stella was downright bullshit—neglectful parents who pawn their children off on a pedophile so they can jet set around the world vacationing. That couldn’t be further from the truth if they tried. Ash and Stella are loving, dedicated parents who spend every minute possible with their kids, and I know for a fact they haven’t left the ranch since Lydia was born.

And there’s no possible way anyone could know the things they wrote about our relationship unless they were in the room with us.

In the room with us… oh my God.

I jump up from my chair and cross the room to grab my purse. I rifle through it for my phone that I purposely left in there when I arrived this morning. It wouldn’t stop ringing and ringing and ringing. Everyone I know was calling me to ask if it was true… do I know Ridge Noble and am I dating him. I shut it off and forgot about it.

I turn it over in my hands examining it for something out of the ordinary but find nothing. I sit back down at my desk and look through every app for one I don’t recognize. This has to be it. They must have recorded us or monitored us somehow through my phone. I need a professional to help me. I don’t know enough about cell phones. Grace, she might know someone. I press her name on my contact list and call her while I put on my jacket.

“Hey, are you okay? I was going to come and see you, but I figured you might need some time to cool off,” she says.

“I’m fine. Well, no, I mean I’m not fine, but I need your help.”

“Of course, what do you need?”

“Can you meet me at Starbucks across the street in ten minutes?”

“Uh, I think so. I’ll have to sneak out, I’ve already taken my morning break.”

“Do it. I’ll see you in ten,” I say and hang up. I’m not usually so blunt, but I don’t have time for manners today. I power off my phone and make my way outside and across the street without anyone seeing me and wait for Grace. The heavy smell of coffee in the shop makes me nauseous. This whole situation makes me nauseous.

She shows up fifteen minutes later red faced huffing and puffing like she just ran a marathon.

“What’s the matter?”

“I had to take the stairs so nobody would see me. That’s twenty flights of stairs, woman. This better be important.”

“It is, very. Power off your phone.”

She frowns and jerks her head back. “Say again?”

I open my eyes wide to drive the point home and repeat myself. “Power off your phone.”

“Okay, okay, geesh don’t burst an artery.” She takes her phone from her jacket pocket and turns it off. “Now will you please tell me what the hell is going on? Did you give Caroline that information and those pictures of Ridge?”

“Hell, no, I didn’t. Don’t you know me better than that by now?”

“I didn’t think you would, but how else would they know all that stuff?”

I hold up my phone. “I think someone has been listening to me or tracking me or recording me. I don’t know how it works, but it’s the only explanation. There are things in that article that Ridge and I said in private. There’s no other way. Somebody did something to my phone, and I’m pretty sure that somebody was Caroline. Do you know what I could do to that company if they’re responsible for this? I could take them down, permanently for slander, defamation of character, invasion of privacy just to name a few.”

“Oh my God, is that possible? Like, can a phone do that?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could help me with. Didn’t you date some computer wiz who made apps for smartphones?”

She snaps her fingers sitting up straight. “Frank! Yes, he’s a genius.”

“Did you end things on a positive note? Could you ask him for a favor?”

“Yes, yes, definitely. He was too smart. We didn’t have anything in common. It was a mutual breakup.”

“Okay, good. I need to see him right away. Do you think you can get him to meet with us over our lunch hour today?”

She looks up for a moment while she thinks. “Yeah, he doesn’t live too far away. I’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks.” I reach across the small table and take her hand. “I’m glad I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. Grace isn’t into mushy tender moments. It’s not that she isn’t sensitive, she is. I think public displays of affection embarrass her.

“Come on. I have to get back before I get fired. I’m supposed to be in the bathroom.”

“Tell them the toilets were all clogged, so you had to go across the street and use Starbuck’s bathroom.”

“Yeah right. Let’s go.”

We go back to work, and I pretend to be productive for the rest of the morning when I’m reading and re-reading the article trying to figure out where we were or what we were doing when whoever has been spying on us got these details. I’ve been writing it all down in a notebook with old-fashioned pen and paper so I can keep it with me and no one can electronically steal it.

This feels like I’m living in that movie Eagle Eye with Shia LaBeouf where the government is controlling his life by watching his every move and listening to every word he says via common technology.

At twelve o’clock sharp, I leave my floor and go down to Grace’s. We never actually agreed to a meeting place, and I’m sure as hell not turning on my phone until someone can prove to me that it’s not recording me.

When the elevator doors open, she’s standing right there and steps in beside me. We don’t speak, which is incredible for Grace since she usually never shuts up. When we are outside the building, she asks quietly, “Did you turn your phone back on?”

“No.”

She blows out a puff of air, and her shoulders relax. “Whew, okay, neither did I. Let’s get a cab, I don’t want to walk in these heels.”

She hails a cab, and we’re off to Frank’s house, or so I thought until we pull up in front of a place called Rose Tech, and she tells the driver to stop. “Is this where he works?”

“Yeah, sort of, he owns the company, and when I messaged him from my computer, he said he was in the office today.”

“Wow,” I say standing on the sidewalk staring up at the impressive building. “You gave this guy up because you don’t have enough in common?”

“Yeah, he’s hot and rich, but we didn’t have anything to talk about.”

I’m impressed with her mature attitude about her former relationship. Grace isn’t exactly a gold digger, but she’s not going to settle either.

We enter the plush, modern building and stop at a large granite desk where a receptionist greets us and informs us that Mr. Rose is waiting for us in the restaurant on level two.

On our way to the elevators, I lean over and whisper in Grace’s ear, “A restaurant inside his company building? Fancy.” She shrugs like everybody has their own restaurant.

Upstairs, a hostess greets us and immediately takes us to a table in the back where, just like Grace said, a very hot, very smart looking man is looking at a menu.

“Hi, Frank, this is my friend, Allison. Allison, this is Frank Rose, genius extraordinaire,” Grace introduces us, and he stands up to shake my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Allison.” He shakes my hand and turns his attention to Grace. “Hello, love,” he says kissing her on the cheek.

“Hey,” she says as if she’s bored and unimpressed. How anyone could be bored or unimpressed by this man is beyond me. He is six feet of perfection with jet-black wavy hair and shocking cobalt blue eyes with a British accent.

He smiles at Grace’s less-than-enthusiastic greeting and pulls out a chair for her and then for me. “Grace, your message seemed cryptic. What is it that you need help with?” She looks at me to explain.

“It’s me that needs help, Mr. Rose.”

“Oh please, call me Frank.”

“Okay, Frank then, I need to know if there is technology that can be used with a cell phone to record conversations without anyone knowing. Like an app or something.”

“Yes, I developed an app similar to that a couple of years ago for people to use during protests. It records audio and visual for up to twenty hours per day.”

“Can it be controlled remotely? Like say, could someone install the app on my phone and listen to my conversations several states away?”

“Yes, if they had access to your phone I suppose. Do you suspect that’s what happened to you?”

“Yes. Can you look at my phone and see if the app is on it? I’ve looked, but I don’t see anything.”

“Certainly, do you have the phone with you?”

“I do,” I take my phone out of my purse and hand it to him.

He presses the power button and waits for it to come on. “The app can be hidden in the phone, so the owner has no idea it’s there. I didn’t design it that way, but someone took what I started with and ran with it. Ah, here we go,” he says when the screen comes to life.

A waitress approaches our table, and I realize I haven’t even looked at my menu. “Hello, Kira, how are you today?” Frank asks the waitress as if they were old friends.

“Fine. Mr. Rose.Thank you.”

“How is your son, Jason, is that right? I hear he’s been ill.”

“Yes, Jason is much better now, thank you.”

He addresses his employees by name and knows what’s happening in their life. He’s handsome, smart, and considerate—something’s got to be wrong with him—no man is this great.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. We will have the special, and can you tell Michael to please hurry? I have a meeting at one o’clock, and I’m sure these lovely ladies need to be back to work as well.”

“Of course, can I get anyone a drink?” she asks collecting our menus.

“Ice tea, please,” I say smiling at the sweet woman.

“You’re paying, right?” Grace says to Frank. He smiles and shakes his head like she is amusing to him. “Yes, love, don’t I always take care of you?”

“Okay, I’ll have a pomegranate martini,” she says with a fake smile and hands the waitress her menu. Kira takes it with raised eyebrows and looks at Frank.

“I’ll have water.” He smiles, and I almost expect Kira to curtsy before she leaves, but she doesn’t, of course.

“You’re drinking on your lunch hour?” I ask Grace.

“Yeah, who cares, it’s one drink, they’ll never know.”

I sigh, and Frank smiles again before looking back down at my phone. After a few taps on the screen, he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah, here it is, the LLL, and it’s an advanced version I’ve not seen before. You say you didn’t put this here?” he asks looking up at me.

“No, I didn’t. What’s the LLL?”

“It’s an app that does what you said you were experiencing. It’s called look, listen, and learn, very expensive and difficult to find. Whoever is spying on you has deep pockets and an in with the FBI.” He hands me the phone back, but I refuse it.

“Can you take it off of there?” I ask.

“Oh yes, it’s more difficult to remove than it is to install, though. It’ll take me a bit.”

“Can you do it by five o’clock?” Grace asks with all the tact of a three-year-old.

I try to smooth things over a bit. “You don’t have to rush. I just appreciate you doing it for me.”

“Don’t worry about it, any friend of my Grace’s is a friend of mine. I’ll remove the app and have a courier bring it to you by three o’clock.” He turns to Grace. “Is that good enough, love?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She’s back to being ultra bored again. I have to find out what’s going on with these two later on.

“Excellent,” he says watching Grace pick at her fingernail like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. I look down at the phone on the table next to Frank’s plate.

“Do you think we should turn that off again?” I ask him.

“Oh yes, good point.” He powers it off and slides it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket that probably costs more than a year’s rent for me. I mentally take note of the things on my phone that I might not want a stranger to see and remember the nude pictures of Ridge and I. “Um, Frank, you don’t need to look at anything special to remove the app do you? Like, say, pictures perhaps.” I grimace, and he smiles his warm hypnotizing smile.

“Not to worry, love. I won’t look at anything.”

“Can someone see what I’ve taken pictures of with that app?”

“Not this particular one, it’s only designed to record voices and video.”

“Thank God.”

“I take it there is sensitive information in here.” He pats his pocket.

“Yes, very. Whoever was spying on me used the information they gathered to publically smear some very good friends of mine and me. I’d hate for those pictures to get out next.”

“We won’t let that happen. Rest assured your phone will be locked down like a maximum security prison when I return it to you.”

“Thank you.”

Our drinks come followed by the most delicious steak I’ve ever eaten. Grace and I return to work and true to his word, Frank has my phone delivered to me at three o’clock sharp. The second I close my office door, it rings, and when I look down at the screen, my heart stops. It’s Ridge.

Dear Lord, please let me survive his wrath.