Page 8 of Taste of Addiction

Angie: You better hope I still am after all this shit you have been putting me through.

He looks into the camera and mouths, “I love you.” And I believe it. But I can still hate his stupid plan. I type another message.

Angie: You have a lot of explaining to do.

The Boyfriend: I’ll call you back after I finish this merger.

I swallow hard. How can he even multitask when he is in the middle of a big business transaction? That man never ceases to amaze me. I end the call and flop back onto the bed.

Today is going to be one of those days. I can already tell.

I declare that today is a mimosa morning and pop open a bottle of champagne to mix with my orange juice. Even I am impressed that I made it up for actual breakfast, despite still feeling emotionally drained. However, I think a liquid diet is the way to go on this shitty morning.

I throw on a sweats outfit and text Collins that I would like to go outside for a walk around the property. He immediately responds.

Collins: Austin will accompany you. I’m with Mr. Hoffman today.

Angie: I don’t need a chaperone.

Angie: Was only letting you know so I can avoid setting off the security system.

A knock sounds at my door and I groan. I am so not in the mood for this. I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I just need to get out of the house for an hour or so. I reluctantly drag my body across the room and open the door to see an alert Austin waiting for me to talk.

“I need out of here.”

“Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” he asks. I am sure he has heard plenty of embellished stories about my antics, but he at least has the decency to look surprised at my rebelliousness.

“You can watch me from the window or the security cameras or from a wristlet tracking device. But I refuse to be shadowed while I make a few laps around the damn house for some exercise!”

“Okay, ma’am, just calm down.”

“Listen. We’re practically the same age. So stuff it with this whole ma’am shit. I am done with it. I’m moody and borderline about to break something. So, either let me have this one ounce of fake freedom or deal with me trying to escape this mad house at every turn. Deal?”

He stares into my eyes as he wrestles with the choices in his head. I honestly think he is trying to figure out if I am for real or just bluffing. Surely he knows how stubborn I am by now. Graham has probably highlighted that description about me and starred it on every document he has given his security staff.

“Okay. Just please do not veer off toward the entrance gates.”

I smile big and push past him.

Victory.

* * *

Graham does not return my video call from earlier where he promised to contact me back after his meeting. In fact, he goes completely off the grid. No texts. No email. No phone calls. Nothing.

By six o’clock, I have a migraine so huge that the only thing I want to do is lie in the dark and pop ibuprofens like they are candy. I take two each hour until I am finally able to find relief. At eight o’clock, my iPad rings with an incoming call, and I dart off the bed to get the device from my desk. I peel back the cover and sigh when I see that it is Claire who is calling. Where is Graham?

I answer the call and relax on the bed.

“So, you have a doppelgänger,” she says in greeting.

“Is she as hot as I am?” I laugh, looking down at my pajamas. My skin is pale and my hair needs taming. Quarantine life is a struggle.

“Impossible.”

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