Page 82 of Am I the Only One

Emma stands before me, dropping her cell phone to her side while Luca is busy tugging on his T-shirt. Frantically, I grab for my clothes and cover my body as best I can. It’s madness all around me, but within me, everything paralyzes as I look on in horror.

Luca grabs his coat and then tugs on Emma’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he says, practically out of breath, but my eyes never leave Emma’s.

Her face is stone, not a single readable expression can be found. It isn’t until Luca takes her hand that she looks away and follows behind him.

Panic-stricken, I sit here, naked and freaking the hell out. My whole body trembles in terror and confusion, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I was just set up.

When my fight or flight instincts finally kick in, I jump off the couch, grab my coat, and wrap it around me. I run to the front of the office and look to the parking lot, finding Luca’s car gone already. I’m too late to stop them, and nausea rolls through my stomach as I yank the blinds closed. All the heat that was just coursing through my veins a minute ago has now been replaced with ice cold fear.

My legs manage to hold me as I move back to my office and then collect my clothes, which are strewn about, and I curse myself.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Carly?

How could you have let that happen?

As I frantically put my pants back on, I pray that this is some sort of messed-up stoner hallucination and I didn’t just sleep with one of my clients and that Emma didn’t just sneak in here and take photos of me having sex with someone other than my husband.

Holy crap, it’s only a matter of time before those photos are leaked.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Tears spring from my eyes as my panic detonates into pure hysteria.

What do I do? How do I stop this from happening, and why did I have to be so stern with her?

My fingers tremble out of my control, and when I’m finally able to clasp my bra, I scour the small office, looking for my silk cami.

“Where the hell is it?” I mumble as I rip the cushions off the couch, but it’s not there.

Dropping to my knees, I fish my hands under the couch, under the chair, undereverythingas I begin crying harder.

Another blaze of panic fires off inside me, and I begin ransacking my office, searching for my cami but finding nothing. Quickly, I shrug on my sweater before grabbing for my phone. In the process, I knock over the flowers, sending the vase crashing to the floor. Thorned roses lie in a puddle of water and broken glass, but all I can do is turn back to my desk, get my cell, and fumble to dial the number of the only person who can help me.

As the phone rings, I chew like crazy on my nails and let the tears fall freely. I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack.

“Hello?”

“Margot, I need your help!”

Carly

“What the hell happened here?” Margot questions when she walks into my office.

I’ve spent the past half hour sobbing and freaking out while waiting for her to get here. She’s a true friend, dropping everything and coming here the moment I called her.

A new slew of tears flood my eyes, and when she turns around, I blink, allowing them to fall.

“I’m in really big trouble,” I tell her, my voice trembling in fear. “That girl I told you about, you know, the one I got to sleep with Tripp?”

“Yes ...”

“She set me up.”

Slowly, I walk across the room and take a seat in one of the chairs, dropping my head into my palms.

“What do you meanshe set you up?”

“I don’t even know how to explain this because it’s such a mess.”

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