Page 2 of The Shadow

“You let me know if you ever need anything at all.”

“Oh.” I perk up. “An O.”

His face falters and he snaps his finger dramatically. “Thought I had you with that one.” He pulls out the small scrap of paper he keeps score on and scratches a tally beneath my name.

“Is it getting close yet?”

“Not even.” He holds the paper up and below his name are only two tally marks while beneath mine—well, too many to count quickly. “How’s the new job going by the way? They putting that big brain of yours to good use?”

“Good.” My voice hitches and I cough to try and hide my discomfort. “It’s certainly challenging but I enjoy that.”

“You tech people are so much smarter than me.” He laughs. “My daughter is always trying to give me one of those fancy new phones you kids all have.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flip phone, holding it up. “This right here has worked for me just fine.”

“You’re not missing much.” I hit the button again to call my elevator. “Just gives people even more access to contact you in multiple ways.”

“Bah.” He waves away my comment as he makes his way back toward his post. “I’m still trying to figure out Netflix.”

“Good night, Marcus.” I smile and wave before stepping into the elevator and riding up to my fifteenth-floor apartment.

I can’t help but smile every time I open my front door. I have worked and saved for so many years to be able to afford a place like this. Sure, I had to rent the smallest apartment this place offered, but I at least have my own bedroom, even if it is a closet, and a doorman outside the building. But the reality is, if it hadn’t been for my massive promotion from assistant to Mr. Blake to senior security analyst within the company over the last year, I never would have been able to afford this place.

I swallow down a thick lump that’s formed in my throat, the same lump that always forms when I think through my promotion. It’s not that I didn’t have the degree and certifications for the job because I graduated top of my class; it’s the fact that I had hardly any experience and it wasn’t until after…

“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut and will the thoughts to disappear. “You deserve this,” I say aloud to myself as I kick off my shoes and walk over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and see what I have in the fridge for dinner.

I push aside the half-wilted salad that I promised myself I’d finish for dinner tonight. I grimace when I pop the lid open and smell the contents. Immediately, I toss it in the trash before looking through my freezer and cupboards with no success.

“Shit.” I reach for my phone and scroll through the never-ending food options on one of the many delivery apps I’ve recently come to rely on. It wasn’t always like this. I love cooking. I enjoy packing my lunches for the week and treating myself to takeout on the weekends now and then. But ever since that night… it feels like slowly my life is starting to disappear, or at least the control I thought I had over it.

I scroll mindlessly for several more minutes before settling on one of my regular orders. A falafel pita with a side of baba ganoush and hummus. I toss my phone onto the couch, knowing I have just enough time to hop in the shower and change into my pj’s before my food is delivered.

My hair is wrapped tightly in my microfiber towel and my skin is freshly moisturized with a thick layer of lotion. I step into my new daisy pajama shorts, complete with matching button-up top and mint-green slippers that have a giant daisy printed on them. I hear my phone ding from the living room that’s only a few feet away from my bathroom, alerting me that my delivery person is approaching my building.

I grab my keys and dart out my door, locking it behind me. I don’t make a habit of running down to the lobby of my building in my pajamas, but considering it’s almost eight on a Friday night, I can guarantee that everyone else in my building is either in for the night or already out. The elevator door opens just as my courier drops the food with Marcus.

“I had a feeling it was for you before he even said the name.” Marcus holds my food out toward me, his eyes drifting upward. “Hey, you look like Marge Simpson.” He chuckles, nodding toward my bright-blue towel that I completely forgot was piled high atop my head.

I look up and reach to touch it, my cheeks blushing slightly when I hear Marcus step away and greet another resident.

“Good evening, Mr. Ransom, miss.” He nods toward the woman on my neighbor Harvey’s arm. My cheeks go from slightly pink to glowing in a matter of seconds.

“Good evening, Marcus.” He nods toward him as he makes his way closer to where I’m still standing by the elevators.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I try to will my cheeks from flaming but I know it’s no use. I’m absolutely mortified even further when I catch a glimpse of how ridiculous I look in the mirrored reflection of the elevator. Especially standing next to the five-eleven model on his arm with legs longer than my body.

When the door opens, Harvey holds the elevator door and motions for me to step in first. I do and he and the woman follow behind me.

“Good evening, Aspen.” He offers me a nod, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. I can tell he’s trying not to stare at me and my get-up. The muscle on his heavily tattooed forearm twitches when he presses his hand against the woman’s narrow waist.

“Hey, Harvey, nice to see you.” My voice sounds quiet and shaky. The woman on his arm doesn’t even bother to look my way. Instead, she runs one hand over his impossibly broad chest while the other tangles in his wild dark hair that he’s grown out.

I haven’t seen Harvey Ransom in a few weeks. Last time was when we were at a cookout at the house of our mutual friends, Blaire and Jameson. The same cookout that my friends teased me about getting with Harvey. And while the thought of letting a man like that have his way with me is only ever going to be a fantasy, I might have briefly let myself wonder what it would be like if we ended up together.

Then again, as a man who owns and operates his own private security firm with Jameson and their mutual friends, Alex and Luka, who are also Special Forces, I imagine he’s not around a lot. And when he is, he usually has company on his arm. Company that consistently looks like they’ve walked off the Victoria Secret runway with ten-foot legs and boobs that defy gravity.

I’m not wearing a bra!

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