Page 34 of Am I the Only One

I’m nervous.

Carly is too.

Neither one of us knows where to begin, so we sit in this run-down diner in the middle of nowhere. Booths with cheap linoleum tabletops line the wall of windows that look out to the parking lot where only a few cars are parked. I start to question my decision to meet her, and the silence between us has turned grating.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.

Staring down at her cup of coffee, she drags her thumb along the rim, the polish on her nails is almost completely chipped away. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I give her a nod, and when I do, she scans the small diner, paranoid someone may be listening, but no one even notices us. The few people that are in here are lost in their newspapers and pancakes.

“He’ll be in the city for the next few days,” she says quietly. “He’s staying at The Jefferson Hotel.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “He’ll often have a cocktail and work late at Quill, the lounge on the ground floor.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because Tripp is a creature of habit. He’s type-A and predictable.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Show up,” she says. “You know what he looks like.”

“I can’t just show up out of the blue. I’ll need a room.”

“Why?”

Clearly, she hasn’t thought this through.

“Because if he asks to come to my room, it would look suspicious if I didn’t have one.”

I swear to God, I just saw the light bulb turn on inside her head.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she murmurs. “Okay, then. I’ll get you a room for tomorrow night.” Her attention stays trained on her hands as she continues to nervously shift around her coffee mug. There’s barely any eye contact at all when she continues. “It’s a historical luxury hotel. Michelin-starred food. You’ll need a nice dress.”

“Why a dress?”

Her eyes fall shut for a moment and she fidgets before, almost painfully, saying, “Because legs turn him on.” Finally, her eyes lift to meet mine, revealing the slightest hint of tears that well along her bottom lid. “He likes a feminine woman, but a confident one. So, don’t be too meek.”

When her head drops again, I worry she’s doubting this whole plan, but I can’t have her wavering because I need this. I need the payout. Reaching my hand across the table, I rest it on top of hers, whispering, “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, peering up at me. “No ... no, I’m not okay. None of this is okay.”

“But you’re right, you know?” I encourage. “You can’t let this man rip your whole life apart and get away with it. He’s using you, Carly.”

Her jaw tightens as she nods. “I know. This is just ... this is so unlike me.”

“You have to take a stand for yourself.”

She doesn’t respond, and I get the feeling that pushing too hard would be a mistake, so I get back to the plan. “When do you want this to happen?”

She veers away from whatever thoughts are consuming her and takes another sip of coffee. “He has a strategy meeting tonight, so I was thinking tomorrow.”

“And you think he’ll be that easy?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It might take a little time, but for now, just do your best to make an impression on him. He can be quiet, you know? It sometimes comes off as rude, but that’s just his personality, so don’t take it to heart.”

“No part of my heart is involved in this,” I say, and her head lifts so she can look me in the eyes.

“It’s a job, right?”