Page 7 of Pin-up Girl

“Best bridesmaid gig ever,” Aubrey said. “I need to go, I’m sorry. Thank you for tonight. For listening. For…”

“Fucking you silly?”

“Yes. That.”

“Sleep tight, Peach. Dream of me.” As we both logged off, I leaned slumped in my chair and let the bliss linger a bit longer.

I shouldn’t have been gaming in my office, and I really shouldn’t be sitting in front of the massive windows with my dick hanging out and jizz covered tissues still clenched in one hand. Though the fact that this was a high-rise view meant no one was looking in on me.

I threw away the Kleenex, tucked myself back in my pants, and zipped up.

Aubrey was the only reason I logged on tonight—it was the only reason I played most days, since work didn’t leave me time for much else.

That all changed today.

I shut down the game, which left my current frustration up on my main screen. The Email. That would be its official title in my head from here on out. It was the official notice of the same thing I’d been told earlier today by my board of directors.

Supposedly, I was being asked to take a three-month sabbatical. After almost two decades with the company I built, the board of directors wanted me to take a break and reset. That would be the official announcement to the public as well.

It was bullshit. Before my ninety-days were up, they’d have found the loophole needed to force me out.

I closed the email, set the game to uninstall, and put the last of my things into a box on my desk. I’d carted everything else personal out a few hours ago, shortly after everyone was gone. Someone would notice tomorrow that my office was empty—I shouldn’t have cleaned it out before my departure was official—but I was past caring.

Yeah, Sebastian had gotten shafted, but my situation wasn’t that different. I founded this company with a unique idea. It was my baby. My brainchild.

I’d figured out how to make biotech textiles feasible for high-volume use. We sold to the military and athletes. Anyone who wanted a portable way to monitor vital signs, and could afford to produce in volume, could buy our fabrics.

And we hadn’t innovated anything since my first discoveries. That stopped being my job years ago, but as CEO, I was the face of the company. Letting me go was supposed to reassure shareholders and investors.

Even before I’d talked to Aubrey, I had a plan about what to do with my newly found freedom. I’d been looking at property in Haddarville for months, wondering what it would be like to move back. To start a farm. To settle into a life where I answered to me.

Not a lot went up for sale there, though it seemed a lot of property changed hands. I suspected those purchases were a matter of the buyer knowing the seller, and getting in before the house ever hit the market. I wanted to do that, too.

And Aubrey gave me another reason to return to Haddarville.

This was the perfect time to fly back to the small town I grew up in, reacquaint myself with old friends and neighbors, and be there for the woman I’d been falling for over the last few years.

And while I was there, I’d buy a plot of land and settle down to start over.

There was a small possibility when Aubrey found out who I really was, she’d be overjoyed. Oh my God. The geeky boy no one remembers from high school? I’m so happy to see you again.

Odds were a lot higher she was going to say, “Who?”

I’d be introducing myself in person soon enough, and these days, no one forgot who I was, as much as I frequently wished they would.

3

clint

This was one of the last days I had before school started to enjoy a slow, easy morning. To surround myself with the scents of coffee and sugar, and sit back and watch the commuters rushing around like little worker bees.

As Madeline Kahn would say, always coming and going and going and coming… And always too soon.

I grabbed my drink from the barista and gave him a nod, my mind already drifting again.

Normally I’d be singing to myself—and anyone else in ear range—while I soaked in the morning, but I was too worried about my daughter, Dee. She’d collapsed at her dance recital this weekend, and we didn’t know why. Heart problems, the ER said. She’s out of the woods for now, but you need to follow up with your primary care provider.

Not the worst news I could have gotten, by far, but I would have preferred better. A simple low blood sugar, make sure she drinks more orange juice before performing or something easy to solve.

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