Weeks went by like a snail. She hadn't heard from Tom since the day he left. He only called once from California just to confirm his safety.No one cared. No one cared that the article was a hit. No one gave a shit that she still had a job.
Hailey wasn't sure if it was a good thing that she'd kept it. She'd been ridiculed by so many co-workers, including Hilda Baker, a divorced 46-year-old.
"So Hailey," Hilda said with a sly, cocky grin, "how's the cock like lately?"
"I dunno, you tell me," Hailey returned, her attention more on her laptop than the woman behind her.
"I hear you screwed Bently for this job."
"Oh really? Who'd you hear that from?"
"I have connections."
"The ones connecting you to your welfare?"
"You're a bitch."
"That's an intelligent comeback."
Hilda slapped Hailey across her face so hard that the entire spectating office flinched. Blood spilled from Hailey's face and onto her jeans. Hilda socked her in the face before leaving. Hailey slipped from her chair and onto the floor. She immediately lifted herself up and ran to the elevator. She heard snickers from David. She stopped, and looked at him with blazing eyes. His grin disappeared when she socked him in the stomach.
Hailey drove home and only when her door was locked did she begin to cry. Her salty tears fell and burned in the open wounds.
The phone rang. With haste, Hailey picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Hailey. It's Brian Littrell," he announced.
"Yes, I remember."
"Are you okay? You sound like you're crying."
"I'm fine."
"Okay, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Which is...?" she asked impatiently.
"If you could, would you pick me up at the airport? I have a few meetings in Chicago."
"When?"
"Uhhh..." Brian looked at his watch from the plane, "an hour. I don't want to sound like a jerk -"
"You do," she interjected, "but I will. Your story let me keep my job. I owe you one."
"Congrats. So I'll see you there. Terminal C10."
"I'll be there with bells on."
She hung up the phone and jogged upstairs. Her face was caked with blood in some places. Her lip partially split. A bruise on her cheekbone started to show. She washed off the cuts, wincing in pain and cleaned her lips. She managed to cover her bruise with concealer.
She ran into her room and changed into a tank top and khakis before leaving. Hailey's house was maybe fifteen minutes away from the airport. When reached the terminal, she was fifteen minutes early. So was the flight.
Passengers piled out of the tunnel, rushing to family, friends, whoever. No Brian. An attendant walked out. She was busily chatting with Brian.
Brian looked so much better than she'd remembered him last. He had a wide smile on his lips and his eyes were the complete opposite of the dull blue she'd seen before. He wore a simple white collared shirt with khakis. Brian said good-bye to the woman before catching Hailey's eye.
"Hi!" he greeted. He gave her a warm hug.
"You look so much better than you did before."
"Thanks. After these meetings I'll look wonderful again," he told her, making a gruesomely silly face.
She smiled and they walked to grab his bags. He didn't say anything about her face. "So, what are these cases about?"
"Legal hassles and whatnot," he said, shrugging.
"All of the Boys will be there?"
"Yes, excluding Nick, who'll be connected through a telephone, why?"
"Damn," she muttered.
"What?" Brian picked up a medium-sized suitcase.
"I wanted to meet him if he's in the area."
"Why?"
"You talk about him so much. I want to see him in person."
Brian's grin disappeared into a frown. "I guess that could be arranged."
"Why is that a bad thing?" she asked, reading his face like a book.
"He doesn't need any more media than he has already."
"No. As a personal thing. No recorder, no notes. Just me." She got in her car with Brian.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
After a long silence, Brian said, "I have a question, please don't take it the wrong way, okay?"
"Okay."
"What happened to you?"
"Got sucker punched in the face."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. She's a bitch."
"Who?"
"Co-worker. She'd called me a low-life slut and then punched me."
"That's awful." He put a hand on her face, lightly touching her cuts.
"Don't!" she screamed. "Goddamn, that hurts!"
"Sorry." He looked out the windows.
Hailey cursed at herself. She pounded her fist into the closed window. Yet again she'd snapped at him...But it did hurt.
"Which hotel are you staying at?"
"Damn, it starts with a 'M,'" he said.
"Motel 6?"
"Ha ha, I'm not that cheap," he smiled.
"Okay, where is it at?"
"No clue. I'd thought you'd know!"
She gave him a stern look. "You are not crashing at my place."
"Why nooot?" Brian pouted stupidly.
"I told you before, I can't sleep with lugs like you!"
"Please, Hailey? Just for tonight! I'll find the hotel myself tomorrow and leave for my meeting."
"Why do I have a feeling that you planned this?"
"I did not!" he exclaimed with a guilty grin.