Page 73 of The Seven Month Itch
She runs in front of me and walks backward. My determined firecracker. “Is it a celebrity I know?”
“Not telling.”
Her stare is sharp trying to conjure up the answer. “It’s in Malibu, so the person has money.”True.“I know most of the celebrities you train come through the studio because of action movie roles.”Also true.“So I’ll guess the home belongs to one of those superheroes.”
I steel my features so as not to give anything away. “I plead the Fifth, princess.”
“Thor.”
“Chris and his brothers sold their Malibu house.”
Silence holds her in deep thought. She bites her lip and scrunches her face. “Robert Downey Jr.”
I don’t answer but catch her grin out of the corner of my eye. He’s the only superhero she’ll refer to by his government name.
“Terrence, is it him?”
I stop at the bottom of the staircase to face the version of Sherlock Homegirl known as my wife. “Baby, I will neither confirm nor deny whose house it is. Your nosiness is why there are things like NDAs.”
The phone buzzes in my hand. My car is out front to take me to the airport. I sigh. “Time for me to go, princess.” I lift her chin up and take her mouth. My dick awakens at Justice’s moan. He wants a goodbye kiss too.Easy, buddy. Have to wait.
“I love you, Terrence.”
“I love you more. I’ll call you as soon as I land.”
Chapter 35
Justice
Taste tells me I have thirty seconds to make it to the bathroom before my lunch makes a cameo in front of my colleagues. I gag at the unsettling mix of water and butter chicken swaying in my stomach. It’s rare for me to be this sick, but at least the writing is on the wall before it’s too late.
My eyes lock on the door to the bathroom. I unfasten the button on my blazer and nod at coworkers through this never-ending trek to privacy so I can puke my brains out.
I’ll make it. A couple more steps to freedom.
I quicken my pace when my lunch does a backflip up my throat.Maybe I won’t.The last few steps turn into a sprint. I stagger into the bathroom and head to the farthest stall. I’m alone, which could be deliberate instead of a small miracle. This is the third time today I’ve hightailed it from my office to offer a sacrifice to the porcelain master of my life. I don’t blame anyone who thinks I’m suffering from a bad case of the squirts.
A can of ginger ale and some crackers are next to my computer when I get back to my office.
“I wanted to help.” Olivia walks in and shuts the door. “Are you okay?”
I nod at my assistant and wave off her concern. “I’m fine, thanks. I think it’s the Indian food I ate. Thank you for this.” I lift up the pouch of crackers. “It’s very considerate.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve saved my ass countless times. It’s the least I can do.”
Three years ago, it wasn’t uncommon for Olivia to stumble into the office with a hangover. She was an intern fresh out of college and had a very colorful time transitioning into adult life. Still, she had potential, which is why I’ll promote her to marketing specialist. She’s come into her own, and she’s someone I trust and respect.
“Earth to Justice.”
“Huh? I’m sorry.” I need a nap.
A grin stretches across her face. “You’re out of it today. Thinking about your man?”
Don’t remind me.
Terrence left for LA a week ago. We call and text each other every day, but it’s not enough. I miss him so much, and I don’t know why the thought of him away makes me so emotional. Work is no longer enough of a distraction. I need more. I need him.
I sink into the chair behind my desk and rest my forehead in my hands. Death would be an upgrade from whatever this is. “The only thing I’m thinking about is not throwing up again today.”
