What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (22 page)

He shrugs his
shoulders. “I'm just saying,” he ruefully states. I throw a
balled up piece of paper at him.

“If you want me to
have lunch with you, Cruz, all you have to do is ask.” He pauses a
minute. He stands and walks over to my chair. He turns me toward him
in the chair, kneels down, and looks me in my eyes.

“Cruz, what the
hell?”

“Shhh.” He puts his
finger on my lips. He's so serious. “Bria, will you please grace me
with your presence and have…” He stops and drops his head. I can
tell he's laughing; he can't even finish his little display of
affection.

He lifts his head and I
can see the smirk on his face and can imagine what he's thinking.
“Bria, eat the damn salad so I can fuck you on your desk.” He's
laughing but serious. He stands slowly so that his cock is eye level.
He's hard and revealing quite a bit. My thoughts can't even be
addressed right now. He really needs to wear boner... I mean boxer
briefs to contain that...

* * *

Although it was a
trying day, we completed it without office sex, nor did either of us
commit any crimes against each other.

“I really need to go
see Bryant.”

“I was thinking that
too; let him know where things are at,” Cruz agrees.

“Okay, we can meet
there.”

“You can just ride
with me, Bria.”

“I have a few things
I have to take care of after, so I'll just take my car.”

“I can take you
wherever you have to go, Bria; it wouldn't be a problem.”

“Thanks, Cruz, but
I'll drive.” He shakes his head; he wants to say something but
keeps his eyes on his briefcase.

“Okay… I'll meet
you there,” he says.

“I have to make a
stop so I'll see you a bit later.”

“A bit later?” His
response sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Yes,” I reply.
Cruz gathers his things to leave. He rounds the desk to where I am.

“Thanks for
everything today, Bria.” He leans down and with a feather-light
touch, he kisses my forehead. It shocks me a little. Cruz a gentle
man? He's shown me many sides of him. I'm no more knowledgeable of
this man than I was weeks ago.

“Drive safe, honey.”

“I will.” The
office is silent; a part of me feels desolate, but why? Cruz has
brazenly entered my life without notice, sending my body through
partial-ecstasy that I know my body won’t be able to handle fully.
For what? What does he want from me? I stare out my office window for
a few minutes to reflect on what Cruz has planned. I glance at the
clock on the wall. Hmm, a quarter to five, I have to complete this
set-up for Mr. Wilke first. I'll meet Cruz at the hospital at 7:30.
I'll send him a quick text to let him know.

As I do, Lisa pops her
head in.

“Good night, Bria.”

I look up from my
phone. “Good night, Lisa,” I reply. She waves. I can hear her
exiting the building. My phone chimes; it’s Cruz. I know this
because I’ve finally programmed his number in my phone. I mean,
it’s the least I can do after he’s had his mouth on my clit.

Did he really?

Seconds later, there's
another text.

Seriously, a man like
Cruz should not be using angry faces, so I let him know.

I'm done; that man can
turn anything provocative.

Just as I'm leaving the
hotel from setting up Mr. Wilke's suite, the brunette woman from the
coffee shop steps out of a taxi that has pulled up in front of the
hotel. She’s dressed in a cream, fall pea coat. I wave as I store
my belongings away. It looks as if she has on a dress because the
coat flows naturally with her figure.

She looks at me as if
she knows me. I’m in my big-faced sunglasses with my collar up.
Although I’m known here, I would like to stay a little mysterious
to those who don’t. I remove my glasses as she walks my way.

“Hi, so we meet
again?” she speaks first.

“Robbinsdale isn't
that big, so it's bound to happen.” I shrug.

“You’re staying
here?”

“No,” I respond.
“It’s work related.”

“Oh... okay,” she
says with an assumed look of shock on her face.

“No! No! God, No,”
I say, laughing. She starts to laugh. “For my boss's meetings for
the month,” I lie a little. “I keep trying to convince him to
move our office where he can have a larger conference room. He likes
this place, so here I am.”

“Oh, okay, I
understand. Well, I have a meeting myself.” She extends her hand.
“Bria?”

“Right.”

“Bria, nice seeing
you again.”

“Absolutely, fewer
items this time,” I reply.

She laughs. “See you
around.”

“Sure thing,” I
say.

Getting in my car, I
check my mirrors before pushing the start button. I move my glasses
to the top of my head. I don’t really like driving with them on
unless the sun is blaring. I notice that the brunette whose name I
remember is Shanna has stopped in the entrance of the hotel. I'm not
sure why I have a habit of watching people from my mirror. Just one
of the weird things Bryant teases me about. Just like that, my
thoughts revert to Bryant. I'm pulling away from the hotel, there's a
call of my name I can't distinguish. I check my mirror and I see
Shanna waving to get my attention. I slow down while she powerwalks
to my car.

“Hi, I'm sorry. I'm
not from here and you seem like a nice lady. I was wondering what is
there to do for fun around here? I was thinking we could go out and
you could show me a thing or two.” She gestures with her hands. I
give her a questionable look. “What?” she says.

I know my hair is short
and I've been told I am gorgeous by both genders, but this is too
much.

“No! Oh, God no!”
She mocks my earlier response. “I'm not a lesbian if that’s what
you're thinking.”

“Whew,” I sighed.
“I was officially growing my hair back.” We both laugh.

“Sure, Shanna, is
it?”

“Yes, Shanna,” she
repeats.

“Give me your number;
some of my office colleagues are getting together on Saturday for
drinks and dancing. You're more than welcomed to join us.”

“Oh, thank you! That
would be awesome. I can't wait.” She hands me her business card and
I reciprocate.

“I'll call you
tomorrow to let you know where we are meeting on Saturday.”

“Okay, I'll talk to
you later, can’t wait.”

“Absolutely,” I
say, pulling off into traffic toward the freeway.

I get to the hospital
in less than twenty minutes. Bryant should have been put into a room,
so I make my way to the reception desk. “Hi, can you tell me what
room Bryant Morgan has been moved to?”

“Hello,” the
receptionist says cheerfully. “Bryant Morgan, let me check… Um,
he's signed out.”

“Excuse me,” I say.

“He signed himself
out… looks like this morning.”

“Oh, wow.” I look
at my watch; it's 7:27 p.m. He hasn't contacted me all day. I look up
from staring at my watch and Cruz walks through the lobby doors. He
smiles a very vibrant smile; he's changed out of his suit into some
very becoming slacks, a white collared button-up shirt, and a
waistcoat. I eye him up and down as he steps in front of me. He looks
fucking delicious standing here.

“Hi.” He smiles.

“Hey, um Bryant was
released this morning.” He frowns as if he's as confused as I am.
“Wow.”

“Exactly what I
said.”

“He didn't even
contact me,” he says, looking down at his phone.

“Me either. Where do
you think he's gone? Oh, God! He's probably lawyered up for that
bitch,” I scoff. Cruz nods his head in agreement.

“Bria, we can't stop
him from helping her.”

“Well, I’ll no
longer help him. He can't ask me nor can he make me. Fuck him, I'm
done.” Cruz shakes his head as I begin to walk past him to leave
the hospital. Cruz is behind me, I can tell he's moving in my
direction.

“Bria,” he calls
out to me. I'm several feet away from him, not halting my stride to
the parking garage elevators. I push the elevator button and wait. I
can hear Cruz getting closer.

“Bria,” he says in
a low tone, as he stands behind me.

“What, Cruz?” I say
sternly and with annoyance as I turn to face him.

He has a look of
uncertainty on his face. “Technically, you're bailing on me and
you're bailing on your boss too.”

“Is that what you're
concerned about?”

“Bria, I can't…”

“You can't what? Huh?
I can’t hear you, because what it sounds like is… You can't
afford to lose this deal, Cruz? Is that what has you sticking around?
Yeah, trust me… I already know,” I say as I smack the elevator
button impatiently, the door open slowly. He steps closer right
before the elevator closes. I take a step back. He steps into the
doorway and holds the doors open.

“I can't let you walk
away from this deal.”

“Right…” I cock
my head to the side. “Now let the doors go.” I push the close
door button to activate the doors. Cruz takes a step back and the
doors close… Just like my heart.

* * *

I awake to loud
thudding at my door. I know before I even get to the door it’s
Bryant. “Who is it?”

“You know damn well
who it is, Bree.”

“No, Bryant, I
won't.” THUD! THUD! THUD!

“Open the door,
Bria,” he shouts.

“Bryant, go away. I
can't do this with you anymore.” I can tell he's losing his
patience. His voice sounds frustrated.

“If you don't open
this fucking door, I'm going to knock it off its hinges.”

Who the hell is he? The
angry wolf? I'm not scared of Bryant; but lately he's been surprising
me with his actions, so I'm not sure what to expect.

“Bryant, listen
please. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't sit and watch Cass
hurt you again. I know you went to bail her out of jail.” THUD!
THUD! THUD!

“Open the goddamn
door! You fuckin' changed the locks on me?”

“Bryant,” I yell.
“Stop. Just go away.” I can hear my phone in my bedroom. I jog to
my bedside table and it's Bryant. I tap answer.

“Bryant.”

“Bree, please open
the door. Please, I'll calm down. Just let me in.” He's pleading
and almost inaudible. I feel a lump in my throat; my best friend
needs me. I'm always there to pick up his pieces. His breakups, his
many company venture fails. I'm his comforter; but this, I can't do
again. Bryant has recovered tremendously from his breakup with
Cassie. It almost ended him. Because of my forgetfulness, I left my
laptop at Bryant's one night. It forced me to take a trip to his
apartment on my way to class one morning. After twenty minutes of
ringing the bell outside, Bryant’s neighbor, who was leaving for
work, finally let me in. He informed me that Bryant had come in last
night and hadn't left yet. Their places are extremely close, and the
walls are very thin. He said the music to a video game was playing
all night. He figured he fell asleep playing.

Well, that wasn't the
case; I knocked and called his cell phone, which I heard ringing
forever before I contacted the building manager. I convinced him I
was Bryant's relative from the campus and needed to wake him for a
final. When we entered his apartment, my life, as I knew it back
then, changed. It was and still is the reason I won't get into a
serious relationship. I'm fine with companionship and sex-sessions.
Love is the shit that has multiple effects. It plays with your mind,
bruises your heart, and leaves you in a constant self-conscious,
grief-stricken state.

We found Bryant on his
couch with not one, but two empty bottles of acetaminophens and a
half-finished bottle of Jack Daniels. I called nine-one-one straight
away. Turned out, he was drunk out of his mind before he had cracked
open the second bottle, the contents of which he had dropped and I
failed to see in the couch cushions. The doctors said he was lucky I
got to him when I did. Another fifteen minutes or so and all of his
vital organs would have begun to shut down. Seeing him in the
hospital last night took me back to that first night. I had watched
the EMT's work on him on the way to the hospital. I can't watch her
kill him.

Phone in hand, I try to
swallow the lump forming in my throat so I can speak.

“I can't, Bryant. I
just can't,” I say softly over the phone.

“Why?” he
questions.

“I told you, I can't
see you hurt by her anymore.”

“Bree, I didn't go
bail her out.”

“Don't lie to me,
Bryant.”

“Bria, I didn't. I
fuckin' swear to you, I didn't… I went to see her,” he whispers.

“I knew it! GOOD
FUCKING BYE!”

“BREE,” he yells
through my door because the phone call has ended.

“Go away, Bryant. I'm
done!” My phone rings again and I tap answer without looking at it
because I know it’s Bryant.

“WHAT?”

“Hel-lo...” I hear
Cruz's voice on the other end. I sigh. “That's how you answer all
your calls?”

I sigh again. “No, I…
I'm sorry.”

“Bria?” He goes
silent on the other end.

“Yes, Cruz?”

“What's going on over
there?” He must sense my attitude. “Nothing, Cruz…” THUD!
THUD! THUD!

“Open the fuckin'
door, Bria.” I know Cruz hears Bryant in the background.

“Bria, is that
Bryant?”

“Yes,” I sigh
again. “I wish he would leave. I’m going to need to get dressed
and leave for work soon.”

“I'm on my way. DO
NOT open the door. His body is going through withdrawals; he's in a
stage where his body is battling his mind. It's mood altering.”

“Cruz, Bryant won't
hurt me.”