Page 35 of A Man of Prestige

The sun’srays penetrated through the window. I hadn’t pulled shut the blackout curtains. I look over and see Elena fast asleep next to me. I can’t help smiling. She always did that, even when we were younger. She’d go to bed in her room and at some point during the night she’d end up in mine.

I grab my phone and call in sick. Then, I text Michelle to take off one more day. She replies with a question mark. I tell her that I am not feeling well, and I’d rather she stay home today, too. She says she will, even though I know she’ll pepper me with questions tomorrow. I roll back over and stare at my sister. I decide that I’m going to make the most of today. I need a day to escape my life and everything going on at the moment.

I pick up my pillow and toss it at her.

She opens one eye and groans. “Elly-Belly” she says as she rolls over and pulls the covers over her head.

“Nope. Get the fuck up! We are having a skip day!” I announce as I grab the covers from her and yank them down the bed.

“Really?” she asks as she turns her head toward me with a grin on her face.

“Really. Get dressed. We’re spending the day in the city.”

“Woohoo!” she yells and launches herself at me. We hug and she heads to shower.

I toss my burner phone on my nightstand. I don’t know what to do with that, but I’ll figure it out tomorrow.

After making myself presentable and forcing myself to not think about the events of yesterday, I get ready for a day of fun with Elena. Procrastination was always my strong suit. I have plenty of time to figure shit out, but I don’t have plenty of time to hang with one of my favorite people. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

“Ready?” I yell once I walk into the main room.

“Ten more minutes!” she calls out from the guest bathroom. I groan. If I got an A in procrastination, Elena got an A+ because that woman is only on time if on time means thirty minutes late.

I make a coffee and stand out on my balcony, surveying the sunny day. The wind hitting my face wakes me up along with the caffeine. I get the distinct feeling that someone is watching me as I close my eyes to take in the sun’s rays.

I open them and look around, but I don’t see anyone and I’m up high enough that there’s no one that would be looking down at me. I decide that I’m being paranoid, but just in case, I’ll stay vigilant today and keep us in public places.

I head back in and find Elena grabbing a coffee.

“Oh no, we’re gonna go get the real stuff,” I tell her as I set her mug down.

“But you had one,” she groans.

“And I will have another. Come on, my little pain in the ass,” I say as I loop my arm through hers and drag her to the elevator. She giggles and then launches into a story about how she and a friend just found the best coffee shop.

We head into the city and go to a few museums after finding coffee. We decide on lunch at one of my favorite restaurants, followed by an afternoon of window shopping in Georgetown. I continue to feel watched, yet I can’t spot anyone following us. I decide it’s safer to eat near the arena and then grab a cab home.

I sit us by a back wall so I can watch everyone coming and going into the restaurant.

“What is up? You’ve been looking around all day like someone is spying on us,” Elena says as she shovels a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.

“Nothing. I just felt like someone was watching us. It’s nothing. I’m just being paranoid, you know me,” I say with a laugh.

Elena looks around. “You know I read this article that sex traffickers will follow pretty young women and then try to coax them into a car by pretending they need help.”

I roll my eyes for the hundredth time today. “Elena. Did you read an article or see that on social media?”

She glares at me. “Does it matter?”

I give her a pointed look. “How’s Mom and Dad?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Seriously, how’s Mom and Dad? Worst subject change ever. And they’re fine. You should try calling them sometime,” she says as she takes another bite of her dinner.

“I will. I’ve just been really busy at work.”

“How’s work?” she asks.

I shrug. “Busy.”

---