Page 61 of Implode

With all of the planning with Donna taking up the majority of my morning, I arrive at work just before lunch. Nic has left me multiple text messages to come see him in his office, if I need to get away from my desk. Ever since I broke down on his sofa after Virginia, he has softened up toward me and my needs.

I am seeing Nic in a different light, a more vulnerable and nurturing light. It is refreshing to see someone as rugged as he is being so tender and loving. When we are together, it’s easy to forget about my troubles.

I greet my workers, touch base with Angie, and am not even at my desk for a few minutes before I get an ominous text message from someone I don’t know.

Unknown: You are being watched by someone you think is your friend

Claire: Who are you?

Unknown: I will reveal my identity outside of work

Claire: You work here?

Unknown: Yes

Claire: So you are watching me?

Unknown: No, but I know who is

My heart races over the exchange of text messages. What is this person trying to say? Am I being spied on? Watched? Is this a male or female texting me? Who is watching me? What does that even mean?

My phone buzzes, and I look down to see the message.

Unknown: Let’s meet at the corner coffee shop at noon. I will tell you everything.

Claire: How can I trust you?

Unknown: Because I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me. Public place. Broad daylight. You are safe.

Claire: Fine

I glance at the time and see that I have twenty minutes before I need to leave to get to the shop. I can’t concentrate, and being productive right now is unrealistic. I leave the office and use the restroom. My hands fidget at the sink, and I can already tell I am getting myself worked up over whatever I am about to learn.

My phone vibrates again, and I pull it out of my bag to see it is Nic.

Nic: Want to eat lunch together?

Claire: Oh, not today. I am still full from breakfast with your mom. I have to run a couple of wedding errands during my break but maybe we can do dinner.

There is a long pause and I scold myself for sending out warning signs to Nic with the word “maybe.” For the past dozen meals, we have been enjoying them together. There is no “maybe.” There’s just the expectation that we will be spending that time together.

I type out another message.

Claire: I’m starting to feel the pressure to make sure Angie and Graham have the perfect celebration. Time is ticking down.

Nic: Anything I can help out with? I’m the best man after all…

Claire: This is all girly stuff but thanks.

I quickly make it back to my desk to make sure I shut off my computer and gather anything I think I would need for my bag. I rip off a Post-it note and write the name of the corner cafe Ground Floor on the top. I add the time and date to the little square piece of paper and slip it into my drawer as a backup plan in case something happens.

The person I am meeting obviously wants to keep their identity concealed. I know there are security cameras everywhere, so leaving the premises seems to be the logical solution for this mystery to be revealed.

I take the elevator down to the main floor lobby and look around at everyone exiting and entering through the security metal detectors. I’m not even sure I can guess who I am meeting. I literally know nothing about the person on the other end of the phone.

I keep my head held high and am careful not to send off any warning bells to anyone watching. I need to have the illusion of confidence, just in case this whole thing ends up going south.

Adrenaline runs through me as I walk at a fast pace to Ground Floor and scan the tables once inside for any sign of someone I recognize. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see the message.

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