Night Owl (The Complete Serial)

“I hacked into your HR system files and sent them over to my Priest.” I didn’t know if that was code for something else, with Eli, anything was possible.

“Is he going to perform an exorcism on them?”

A rare chuckle escapes Eli, “That’s funny. I’ll tell Nick you said that. Nah, he’s just the most patient of the group to cross reference everything piece by piece. He is anal retentive to detail so I am hopeful to have something by the end of the week for us to review. My other guys are tied up out west right now, so I’ll let you know.”

Reed Securities has a farther reach than I realize, Eli Bennett must have offices on the west coast. An idea flits in my mind. “We have a promotional radio awards show in LA coming up. I was thinking of canceling, but it’s next to impossible with the endorsements and music producers. I have to be there.”

“You’ll need security out there, especially if this person gets any bolder. I’ll arrange something and get you their names.”

“Bodyguards?” I ask.

“Eyes, ears and protection.” He reassures me. We still don’t have a motive for this and I’m frustrated as each day goes by with nothing.

“Thanks.” Deflated and with no new answers, the call ends and I am no more or less in a better position than I was a month ago. I know Eli is worth every penny I spend. It’s nothing compared to knowing I will be able to sleep at night next to Casey secure in her safety.

Heading back to the meeting, Casey is laughing at one of Benny’s inappropriate jokes and my thoughts sober. I can’t have her worrying going into this job. Her health and safety have become my primary concern and telling her that we are no closer to uncovering the stalker will not help anything.

She turns to me with her eyes sparkling and I’m torn. “Everything okay?” She takes my hand and pulls me closer to her. It’s not exactly a public display of affection like hauling her into my lap might be, but it’s enough for now.

I reach out and squeeze her shoulder. “Yeah, fine, just some crap from the advertising department,” and the lie comes easy.

My mind spins a hundred different scenarios, one of them needing her on air to lure this fucker out and have Eli ready to take care of it. The other is to pack our bags for a vacation far from here. I do not want her in danger, but the danger might be in this office for all I know waiting for the shoe to drop. Slipping my phone out, I text Eli asking him what needs to make it happen without Casey ever knowing.

“Babe, have you seen my hot pink heels?” Casey calls out and I know it’s a matter of seconds before she enters the kitchen and c

atches me red handed with her courier letter burning my fingers. Thank god they hadn’t sent an email. I don’t know what possessed her to apply for a job on the west coast when I set one up for her here. Her resume had been floating around right after the FCC incident unknown to me. The interview with the morning show went well. The plan is for her to start working this week. Yet, Miss Independent insists on keeping her options open by applying cross country to see what happens.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

“Uh, maybe in the closet sweetheart?” Looking around frantically, I stuff the letter in the trash jumping back from it. Leaning against the opposite counter as she pokes her head out of the bedroom asking, “You okay, James?” I see a naked shoulder around the corner and I swallow, my mouth watering for her already.

“Hmm? Fine, babe.” My hands itch, clenching my fists with guilt from touching the letter. Tucker tells me the LA station might make a play for Casey, and I’m pissed he knows more about her job offers than I do. I didn’t want to give credence to her moving across the country to escape this, my mistake.

“Maybe you should come and help me find them?” Casey moves into the hallway wearing one of the hot pink negligée sets I purchased for her. A cotton candy sweet edged in gold good enough to eat adorns her curves like a boutique confection. Her lush breasts spill out over the top while her pink nipples peak through the lace like candy dots on paper begging to be sucked off until they pop like sugar melting in my mouth. I am at odds between ravaging her in the moment and getting rid of this damn letter that is likely to combust into flames from the garbage disposal.

Hands and fingers crossed behind my back as I look at her with as much innocence as I can muster. It’s possible my conscious considers remorse over placing it in there to begin with, but my honor is negligible at this point.

“I’ll be right there beautiful.” Smiling she dances back into the bedroom and I rip the refrigerator door open grabbing the first thing I find. Left over spaghetti and sauce from our dinner the other night stares back at me accusingly from its paper carton container. My stomach pangs at the sacrifice I am about to commit with to die for homemade Italian food wasting away.

“May God forgive for me for this meal I am about to trash.” Making a sign of the cross, I haven’t been a practicing Catholic in some decades, I still know enough not to piss off the spirit of an Italian cook somewhere in my genes.

“James!”

“I’m coming honey.” With gritted teeth, I salute the container of food pouring the sauce and al dente noodles over the letter confident that the Holy Spirit would punish my libido into a limp noodle for this. “Please, Jesus, forgive me for my sins.” There has to be someone on my side in this, bright orange-red colors stain the white paper envelope, damming spots that rivaled Lady Mac Beth form from the tomatoes and oils of the sauce into an unreadable heap of paper.

The offer from the hard rock station in LA is out of the question. I am not letting her go. This scandal as it were may have opened up a career door for her, but I want her here in Philadelphia where we can try to make things work and have a chance at a relationship. I waited eighteen months, and I refuse to wait longer and definitely not clear across the country with her running scared. She might hate me when she finds out, but I hope that will happen after she finds her place here on the morning show. It will be easier to commit mail fraud now and ask forgiveness later, right? It seems I will be asking for a lot of forgiveness in the weeks to come and pray the five carat diamond ring burning a hole in my tie chest is sufficient groveling.

37

Casey

Crisp white chardonnay that tastes like green apples bubbles in my glass on our way to LAX. Flying business class means enjoying glasses of free wine, Wi-Fi, and soft grey blankets. It’s impressive, over the top, and quite the new experience for me being snuggled in my roomy seat. The best I had done on my own was to fly coach on one of those pay for every add-on possible flights to Florida a few years back. Cramped seats, screaming babies, and spilt coffee that cost ten bucks was not worth all the sunshine the southern state had to offer. It actually rained the entire time, but that is a memory better left in the past. I thought James was splurging when he presented his phone for scanning by the ticketing agent, but apparently this is normal for him, and I am not sure how that makes me feel.

On the air officially for two weeks now with Benny and Natalie is opening my mind to the possibility of staying in Philadelphia. James wanted to book a separate flight from everyone else, but I wanted to be with my new co-workers. Hence, his obnoxious upgrade to business class to keep me to himself. My hesitation sprung from feelings that people assume I got this job lying down. The rumors continue so I decide to face them head on. That means flying to LA and helping host this radio award show. James tells me that we have a security briefing when we land with a firm he’s hired. My head hurts from the stress so I only half listen when he tells me it’s Eli, a guy they call the Priest and a young guy whose name I can’t recall. I might actually be more nervous about my dress fitting for the show than I am about the stalker. It’s ridiculous but that’s where my mind goes.

Our schedule is packed. Tonight is the show; we have appearances over the weekend along with doing the Monday morning show live out here before we fly back and resume the show Tuesday in Philly. I can’t think beyond the meeting I have scheduled with the executives from the LA station. I never received my packet mailed from them, but when I didn’t respond they called the office and Michelle gave me the call before we left Philly. Meeting in person will be easier and my schedule has been modified while James has his own meetings. I’ll have to slip out of the hotel so I plan to use a shopping excursion with Natalie as my cover. Guilt weighs me down because I don’t want to lie to James, but I’m still doing it.

I push wispy strands of my hair back and fix my earrings. Flashy rubies glitter hanging down while my red dress hugs each curve. I should be tired but a nap on the plane helped as did the massage, mani/pedi, and hair/makeup artist who help me get ready.