Page 36
Story: The Inquisitor
I didn’t want to move to a hotel because FitFlex wasn’t going to pay for it. They’d already spent a fortune for the occupancy here. Forrest kept suggesting I get a hotel room, but I had to save money for my mom’s treatment. I also didn’t want him to know about my financial situation. Our relationship wasn’t on that level yet.
My mom wouldn’t have liked my decision to stay at the cabin given the frightening situation, but her recovery was more important to me. Nora had called to confirm that extra officers would be around for the next few days. That eased my nerves.
When I returned to Providence, I’d sit down, review my finances, and come up with a concrete plan before I called the doctor about the payment options. There was still time to think it through.
With that issue set aside, my mind wandered to the noise that had woken me up this morning. Could that have been the attacker sneaking around? Or had it been an animal? A campground wasn’t the place for expensive jewelry, cash, or fancy electronics. It didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t read a criminal’s mind.
Pushing the distraction aside, I sat down atthe kitchen table to start on the photo edits. If I could finish everything for FitFlex early, I’d have a couple of days to explore before the next gig. Olivia had hooked me up with a job at an event where she’d be modeling. Right now, I’d take any job that would grow my medical fund. A few hours of photographing models at a charity event would earn me more money than what FitFlex paid me this week.
I opened Forrest’s files and clicked on the images. His face and body populated my screen, and I sucked in a breath at the sudden impact. A chill caressed my skin. I didn’t know if it was because I was alone or that my body’s reaction to him had intensified. But dammit, the feeling that surged in me was undeniably robust. It was as though today’s session increased my sensitivity to him. I sensed him everywhere, even when he wasn’t here.
I stared at the photos and felt a new intimacy with Forrest. I loved his varied expressions. He was a beautiful man standing in the water as the setting sun glowed behind him with nature witnessing his spectacular presence. He brought the clothes to life by telling a story.
Come join me. Wear these clothes. Immerse yourself in the beauty of nature.
If I could sense that, others would too. This collection would be a bestseller. I’d bet my money on it.
I clicked on the exclusive photo I took of him for myself. He’d never know. The way he looked at the camera made me feel like he was looking at me, whispering secrets and stories about himself to me. My heart had skipped so fast, my fingers snapped his picture before my brain could analyze what I was doing.
I developed powerful feelings for him as the days went by, and we weren’t even dating. How was that possible? Was I living an imaginary life where my bubble would pop at any moment, leaving me to fall flat on my face?
Color me confused.
I was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? But I also knew where I stood. Even if we started a relationship, how long would it last before some hot nurse or doctor caught his eye? Where would that leave me?
I was too tired to be roped into some dating game that didn’t make me feel like I was the only one. None of my past relationships had made me feel worthy or complete. I didn’t even know what would make me feel those qualities. Was it normal to be this confused? I’d been picking the wrong guys all these years.
Stop worrying. Stop overanalyzing.
I cropped images, adjusted their contrast, and uploaded half of them onto the shared drive for FitFlex’s marketing team. On cue, my stomach growled. It was ten at night, and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
I should have tried to finish the entire collection today, but I was exhausted and hungry. If I didn’t take care of myself, who would? My mom needed me.
Shutting down my computer, I walked over to the refrigerator, took out a Caesar salad I’d gotten at the local market, and plopped down on the couch. I turned the TV on to see a news report about the rising crimes in Austin and nearby towns. People had been going missing, and mass shootings were rampant.
Crimes had increased all over the country—all over the world. The news reported nothing joyful anymore. I was certain there was good news out there, but bad news got better ratings, and ratings meant money.
The world was so messed up. I hardly turned on the news nowadays except to get the latest weather forecast when I didn’t feel like clicking on the weather app. I was too fatigued to switch channels or even turn it off.
The red-headed news anchor continued her report. “With the unprecedented crime rates in Austin, Senator Mitch Kramer isworking closely with local officials to fix this problem. Here’s what the senator had to say.”
Nausea rose in me as I listened to his hoarse voice and cringed as he spoke about training more police. Kramer’s silver hair and his expensive tailored suit made his promises seem appealing, but I knew better. Politicians always rubbed me the wrong way—Mitch Kramer rubbed me the wrong way. Did they ever tell the truth? Did they really care about the people? Or was everything just a photo op for a personal agenda?
The more he spoke, the angrier I got. Kramer was a man wearing too many masks. Didn’t people know he was a liar? How could they want someone like that to represent them? He was a ruthless man who only saw money, power, and status. Everyone else could go to hell.
How could I like a man who had abandoned my mom and me?
Growing up, it was just me and Mom. I told everyone I didn’t know my dad, and that was the truth. Though I knew he existed, he didn’t know about me.
He was a stranger to me, and that was how I wanted it.
Not all men are like your father.
That sore spot kept me from having stable relationships. I didn’t have a good male role model growing up, and questions about my irresponsible father only brought on shame and unworthiness. Trusting men to be truthful and responsible had been difficult. It was my weakness, and I didn’t know if I could ever overcome that.
When my relationships went through a rough patch, I ended them quickly.Ihad to do it first because the other option was unbearable. I didn’t like the feeling of abandonment, so I’d rather be the one to abandon. Despite that, there had been a couple of instances where my exes had cheated on me. That had been a version of disregard as well.
Shame collided with resentment, giving me a stomachache. My appetite was now ruined. Though I had shoved Kramer from my mind, I hadn’t expected to see his face on the TV screen while working here.
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