This chapter is an excerpt from A Masterful Seduction by the Book, available at Smashwords.
I hadn’t thought about George until I shut the alarm off on my phone in the morning. There was a voice mail and a text message. The text message, sent at quarter to eleven, read: “Haven’t heard from you. Worried about you. Call me when you get this message.”
I couldn’t call him at quarter after five in the morning. I knew he was still sleeping and I didn’t want to rouse Ryan from his sleep by hearing me talk on the phone to George. I waited until I was on the road to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Perhaps he was in the shower. I planned on texting him when I got to my desk.
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Shit broke loose minutes after I got in. A bridge on an Interstate junction just north of downtown collapsed in the middle of rush hour. There was wreckage and fatalities. The freeway leading into the interchange was detoured and backed up for miles. I had all hands on deck at the scene, on their phones, cameras and iPads covering the story. It was up to me and our web and social media guys to make sure everything got out as quick as we could get updates in. I was constantly on the phone, text messenger and email with the national desk, affiliates, and every Tom, Dick and Jane calling in with eyewitness accounts … often all at the same time. I was constantly changing my story calendar and assignments. There wasn’t a moment to blink, breathe, eat or go to the bathroom until after nine in the evening.
I looked back at the texts and emails that I didn’t and couldn’t get back to during the day. There was one from Ryan from seven thirty in morning that read, “Hello, beautiful. Wish you were here. Can’t stop smiling,” followed by another that read, “Sounds like you’re going to have quite a day. Call me when the dust settles.”
There was nothing from George. No text. No voice mail. I wasn’t exactly worried, but I got a lump in my gut. I called again, but I got no answer, and I didn’t hear from him the next day.
It was time to worry.
.
I drove to his place before heading home after a twelve-hour shift that was almost as stressful as the day I had before. I walked into his house and it was eerily quiet. I found him at his desk in his study. He looked worn and weary. He was dressed in a T-shirt, shorts and sandals and looked as if he hadn’t left the house all day. He didn’t lift his head away from his laptop screen when I walked in the room.
“It’s been a crazy two days as you can probably guess,” I said.
He still didn’t look up. He didn’t say a word. He looked like he was in a not-so-good place a thousand miles away.
I walked up next to him, kneeled next to him, and asked, “Are you OK?”
He kept looking deep into the screen.
“I was concerned, so I came to your house to check on you,” he said, without moving his head or his eyes. “I saw your car in the driveway, and a motorcycle parked behind it. I heard you laughing on your deck, but I didn’t want to walk in on you and that guy.”
After minutes of an uncomfortable silence, I started to say, “It was totally unexpected. I …”
“I don’t want to hear it.” he said.
I couldn’t move except to hang my head down. I felt as if I owed him an explanation, but I really didn’t know what to say.
I couldn’t say that I was sorry. That would have been much too lame. I felt bad that I hurt him in this way, but I willingly went down that road with Ryan knowing it was highly likely that things would go the way they did.
I never stopped loving Ryan; I just did a very good job of pushing him out of my mind and accepting that our relationship ended a year and a half ago. I accepted it so well that I never discussed him with George. I didn’t have a reason. I thought it would be in bad taste to talk about my time with Ryan in such glowing terms. I thought it would be inappropriate. I thought it would be too much information. George was …
Wednesday, December 9, 2020