Scandal:The Complete Series(49)

Okay, how does it go when someone quits an office job? They grab a brown box and fill it with their personal belongings, right? Where the hell is that stack of boxes when you actually need one? The movies promise they can apparently be found in every office in the country. Another media lie.

All I can come up with is an oversized plastic bag from Macy’s. It’ll have to do. As I stuff the bag with pens, pencils, notebooks, my mug and some photos, Hanson shows up at my cube.

“What’s this?” he says, his eyes on the plastic bag.

“I just quit.”

“Is it because of what I said?” His tone tells me he’d have a total breakdown if that was the case. No matter how much he wants to help me, he couldn’t assume such a responsibility. That’d be impossible to bear for Hanson to think he contributed to me losing my job.

“No,” I say to calm him down. “I had it out with Mark. I don’t belong here.”

“No one belongs here, but it’s a job. Are you going to be okay?”

“I am. Thanks, Hanson.”

I extend my hand. He finally takes it after a moment staring at it hanging between us. He lowers his eyes to his feet. “Something great is out there waiting for you,” he says. “Hang in there. You’ll be missed around here.”

Wow, I didn’t think Hanson would bring about my undoing today. I quickly wipe a tear off my cheek as I leave my first paid writing job behind me and dial Jax’s number.

“I don’t have time to explain,” I tell him, “but I think Rick Esposito might be working for the people who had Madison killed.”

Jax growls, making it impossible to understand him. “Uncle Lucius called,” he says after he’s done cursing. “He wants to talk. I know I promised I’d wait for you but that’s not an option now. I’ll see you after I meet with him and we’ll talk about everything.”

He hangs up. I leave the building with my pathetic bag of meaningless office refuse and wonder what the hell I should do next.





—eight—


What did you do?


It’s been two days since Jax left to work something out with his uncle. My paranoia has me seeing strange men and women everywhere. The world feels like it is swallowing me whole. I know the police are following me and they are easy to spot, but am I crazy to think there are others? Women, men, street performers and, I swear, at least one dog who is always outside of every building I exit. This dog has the wisest eyes on Earth. Or maybe I’ve fallen into the kind of madness that makes all dogs look alike.

None of this matters anymore. Jax called to say he’s on his way to my apartment. I can breathe again. His meeting with Lucius sounded like a good idea at first but now I’m entering panic mode, worrying about everything—from the most trivial, like the state of the apartment, my hair and my mood (and not necessarily in that order) to the most crucial matters, wondering about what kind of news Jax brings but also what the vibe between us will be like as we deal with all this ridiculousness.

Our budding relationship has undergone more changes in a week than most relationships ever do. Did I happen to mention my head is still reeling from his confession of love? There is a tiny winged fairy somewhere in my head whispering that there’s a strong possibility Jaxson loves the ghost of little Ella who let him ride her bike more than he could ever love the flawed woman I’ve become.

All these thoughts stop when Jax knocks on the door. I race to the door not even considering it could be someone else. My heart pounds through my chest when he saunters past me into my living room.

“Close the door,” he says, urgently. He’s in perfect shape today, dressed in expensive khakis and shirt, tall and freshly shaven with his hands in his pockets and all that good musculature bulging underneath his smooth skin.

Every swoon worthy quality shines in his overwhelming deliciousness. He’s here and he’s mine. We can work anything else out together.

He stands in front of the TV set, saying nothing, concentrating on the black screen like he expects an alien to jump out anytime.

“Jax?” I say, testing the waters.

He extends one arm, his fingers inviting me over. I walk to him. He closes the extended arm around me, pulling me close to his rock-hard body.

“Do you have bad news?” I say, barely audible.

“What? No. It’s just…”

“What?”

He pushes me backward a few steps until he pins me against the wall, leaning over me with all his height and might. “I can’t control myself around you. It’s dangerous. One look, one sniff, one touch and I’m gone.”

“Gone?” I say against his breath.