Friday, January 29, 2016

State of the Blog

Hi everyone!  I go back to school next week (boo!) and I wanted to fill you in on my plans.

I hope to continue to post about twice a week.  I'd rather not commit to a particular schedule.  I'll shoot for once early in the week (Sunday or Mondayish, in an ideal world) and once later in the week.  If I'm not going to be able to post twice, I'll give you a head's up.

I'm hoping to wrap up with Kinsley and Lauren in the next 4-6 weeks.  I could probably write on either of them for several months more, and I might pick back up with them again in the future, but for now it's just not sustainable.  I want to give them both the endings they deserve instead of getting tired of doing it or overwhelmed and just abandoning you (and them!).

For the very end, I was thinking of doing a fast-forward post that wraps everyone's stories up nicely.  I was thinking about doing it from Liv's point of view, for old time's sake.  Thoughts on that?  If you don't want Liv, who would you prefer?

Don't be too sad about this blog ending, because I'm also announcing an official launch date of March 1 for my new blog!  That entire story is about 60% written, in bits and pieces.  It will overlap a bit with the end of this blog, but since the other is already mostly written, I don't anticipate that it will impact any posting schedules.  The title of my new story is "In All the Wrong Places" and I'm really excited to share it with you all!  I'll post the first post as a sneak peek in mid-February.

Thank you all for your continued reading, commenting, and support!  It's been so much to write Kinsley and Lauren's stories since they're both such different characters from Liv.

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Kinsley: Trust

I woke up a couple hours later and felt the weight of Damien's arm across me still.  My shoulder was sore from laying on it but I didn't want to disturb him, so I very slowly and carefully shifted onto my stomach.  Damien didn't move.  His arm was still draped over me--now it was on my back.  I got comfortable again and fell back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, the room was bright.  Damien only had blinds on the windows in here, no curtains.  I groaned and rolled over, then realized that Damien was gone.  Anxiety welled up and I wondered why he'd left.  Had I imagined him coming in?  No, I'd woken up once and he was still there.  Did he wake up and decide he didn't want anything to do with me?

There was only one way to find out.  I pushed back the blankets and blinked a few times.  My eyes felt raw and swollen.  A quick trip to the bathroom confirmed that they were red and puffy.  I looked terrible.  I splashed some cold water on my face but it didn't help.

I pulled on Damien's sweatpants, cinching the drawstring as tightly as I could.  They still hung low on my hips and were comically long. I completed the amusing picture with Damien's hooded sweatshirt, which I had to fish out of blankets.  Sometime during the night it had migrated out of my arms and down towards the end of the bed.

I made my way downstairs and found Damien in the kitchen, making breakfast.  "Coffee?" he asked me.  I nodded.

He poured me a cup and I thanked him when he handed it to me.  "Do you want help?" I offered tentatively.

He shook his head and said, "No, sit down.  Is it okay if I talk while I cook?"

"Sure," I replied, pulling a chair away from the table.  I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug and stared at the dark liquid inside it.

"First," he started, "I want you to know that I trust you completely and I believe what you told me last night."

"You do?" I asked, surprised.  I don't know what I was expecting him to say, but that wasn't it.

"I do," he replied.  He turned and looked at me.  "Should I not?"

"No," I said quickly.  "You should.  I just...wasn't expecting this conversation to start that way."

"I should have told you last night, but I was so thrown off by your reaction to the situation that I didn't know what to think," he admitted.  "You were so uncharacteristically upset that I didn't know what to make of it.  It seemed like an out of proportion reaction to some guy kissing you and you stopping it.  It was really confusing."

I considered this.  "Well," I said, rocking my coffee mug around on its bottom edge, "I think part of it is that something like that has never happened to me before.  I mean, hell, I've never even been in a relationship this serious before, so I've never even had the opportunity to cheat or be cheated on.  But it's one of those things that everyone else has such strong feelings about that I think I just panicked."

I paused, and decided if I was going to be honest and vulnerable, I might as well really do it.  "And you're not going to like this, and I'm sorry, but seeing him after so long was really confusing.  Our...breakup, I guess, destroyed me.  And he was there to help me deal with my feelings the best way I know how, which is sex.  So suddenly seeing him again stirred up some sort of feelings that were weird and confusing and uncomfortable and really threw me off."

Damien had been looking at me, and I caught his grimace as he turned quickly back towards the stove.  "I'm sorry," I apologized, for what felt like the thousandth time, but it also didn't feel like it was nearly enough.  Now that I was talking, I couldn't seem to stop myself.  The words just tumbled out. "I didn't ever want to be in a relationship with him.  You're the only person I want to be with.  Fuck, you're pretty much the only person I've ever wanted to be with in my entire life. And we'd just sort of talked about the future and... And it was scary to me how quickly and easily it all happened.  I never should have let him walk me to my car.  That was stupid."

"I don't agree," Damien said emphatically, turning to look at me.

"With which part?" I asked, confused.

"That it was stupid for you to let him walk you to your car.  A man should be able to walk you to your car without losing his sensibilities and making a move on a woman that he knows is in a relationship.  You didn't 'owe' him that kiss for his presence.  He's the one that fucked up, Kinsley."

"I kissed him back," I pointed out, then instantly wanted to kick myself.  I really could not seem to shut the fuck up to save my relationship here.

"Yeah," Damien said wryly.  "You told me.  And I kind of wish you hadn't.  But you stopped it and were honest--really honest--and that's important to me."

"This is weird," I blurted.  "You should be mad."

"You know that's not really my thing," he replied.  "Look, I'd be lying if I said this didn't suck.  It sucks and it's confusing and it hurts a little too.  I'm not happy about it.  But I trust you and I appreciate you telling me what happened.  I really appreciate this entire conversation, I know it's probably been really hard for you."

I looked at him, not sure what to say.  He turned back to the stove and finished what he was doing, then got out plates and put pancakes and sausage on them.  He brought both plates over the table.  "One of the things I fucked up in my last relationship was holding on to things that upset me for too long.  There's nothing I can do about what happened last night.  I can either overreact and break up with you again and regret it again, or I can trust you and move on.  So I'm choosing to trust you and move on."

"Okay," I said, still baffled by how this conversation was going.  "Well...okay."

We ate our breakfast mostly quietly.  It was awkward and weird and even though he had said he trusted me and was moving on, the tension in the room was heavy and kept me on the verge of tears.  Damien let me wash the dishes after we finished, then said, "I know we were going to run today and spend the day together, but I think I need to be by myself today."

Anxiety gripped me and I looked up at him, worried.  "But I thought you said..." I trailed off and pushed my hand into my hair, tugging on it nervously.

"Nothing has changed," he assured me.  "I love you.  I'm not mad.  But I just need some space today.  I'd like to take you out to dinner tomorrow, if you'd like to go."

I stood there quietly.  The logical and rational part of me (it exists, I swear) knew that this was reasonable.  Hell, if the whole day was as tense as breakfast was, I didn't even want to be here.  But the emotional part was terrified that he'd spend the day by himself and decide that maybe he didn't trust me as much as he thought he did.  It was also really hard to have been as vulnerable as I was and then get kicked out.  Finally, I nodded.  "Yeah, I'd like that.  I'm just going to change quick, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," he said.  "Take your time and do whatever you need to do.  If you want to shower before you go that's fine too."

I shook my head and hurried upstairs to change.  I pulled on yesterday's clothes, made the bed, and left Damien's stuff folded carefully on the end of the bed.  It would have felt weird to go into his room to leave them there.

When I came downstairs, Damien stood and met me by the door.  He pulled me into a fierce, tight hug and my anxiety decreased slightly.  "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I replied, pressing my face hard against his shoulder.  We stood there for a really long time.

Finally, he loosened his grip on me and we separated.  He touched my hair and said, "I really like your haircut, by the way."

"Thanks," I said, feeling almost shy.  "I do too, but it still feels weird."  I ran my fingers through it and smiled awkwardly at him.

"It doesn't look weird," he said, grinning genuinely.  My face relaxed into a more normal smile.  He stepped closer to me, took my face gently in both hands, and kissed me.  I reached up and gripped his wrists tightly as I kissed him back.  I wanted desperately to try to escalate our kiss, to try to fix the tension the best way I knew how, but I knew it wasn't a good idea.  So after several seconds, I pulled back, ending the kiss before I lost my self control.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Damien asked, studying my face.

"Yes," I agreed.  "I'll see you tomorrow."




Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Lauren: Headlines

I don't tell Logan everything, of course.  I'm not stupid.  I don't say anything about the non-disclosure agreement or even that Sean got into my email account and sent the email on my behalf.  I simply fill him in on the call I got, the severance package, and the weird encounter (an edited version to not give too many details) with Sean by the bathroom.

"Sean is apparently on paid leave," Logan fills me in.  "No one really knows why, but that explains it.  If you ask me, I think he's up to even more shady stuff."

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs.  "I don't know, but he's sketchy as hell.  I've thought that from day 1."

"So did I," I agree.

We both stand quietly for several seconds before Logan asks, "How's the job search going?"

"It's not, really," I admit.  "There isn't a lot out there.  At least with the severance and what I have saved, I can just apply to things I think I'd really like.  I'm not in a huge hurry anymore.  I need to check out those networking resources you sent me.  Thank you for that, by the way."

"Yeah, no problem," he replies.  "It's how I got this job.  I hope they're helpful for you."

We chat for a few more minutes, then go our separate ways.



Two weeks pass, and it's more of the same.  Job search, do some things for Alex, keep my house clean on top of it.  I spend most nights at his house, only sleeping at my own every 3 or 4 nights.  Alex is now working from home for a couple hours a day a few days a week.  He's thrilled with having a bit more to keep him busy.  He's also getting more self-sufficient and better able to use his left arm.  I'm relieved as his need for me drops a little because it means I don't have to feel bad about spending more time at my place instead of his.

Despite having my own stuff and Alex's stuff to keep me busy, plus him to keep me company, I'm going stir crazy.  I get a couple leads through one of the networking resources Logan gave me, and I apply for them and wait.  Finally, about 4 weeks after I originally walked out, I get an interview.

I relish the excuse to dress up and do my hair and makeup.  I've let myself devolve into a bit of a slob, wearing yoga pants and sweatpants and leggings far too often.  I won't even tell you how often I actually put a bra on.  You'd be ashamed, and that's fine.

Unfortunately, by 10 minutes into the interview, it's really clear to me that this isn't the company for me.  The job itself sounds great, but the three people interviewing me (one of whom would be my direct supervisor, and another is his direct supervisor) seem uptight and micromanaging, which doesn't work for me.  I confirm this by asking a question about what a typical day looks like.  I find out that lunch and break times are dictated and every minute of the day must be accounted for.  Next!

I go to Alex's house after the interview and collapse on the couch next to him.  He's playing video games, which is a fairly new thing for him, and I sit irritated and quiet until he gets to a place he can stop.  "How'd it go?" he asks.  Then he takes a second look at my face and says, "Oh, not good, huh?"

"Not good," I confirm.  "I think I need a hobby."  I've never been one for having hobbies.  I don't work out, I don't do crafts (seriously, can you imagine me crafting? I didn't think so.), I'm not artistic, and I can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over something.  Generally my own feet or, you know...air.

"I've got some hobbies for you," Alex says with a smirk.

"Yeah, I know," I say rolling my eyes.  "I guess it's about lunchtime."  Without waiting for him to respond, I stand up and stomp towards the kitchen.  I really do need to come up with some hobbies soon before I self destruct.

I hear him come into the kitchen behind me but I ignore him.  I'm standing and staring into the pantry, realizing that I desperately need to pick up some groceries, when he slips his right arm around me from behind.  "That's not what I meant," he says softly before sucking my earlobe between his lips and nibbling on it.

I sigh and close my eyes, lunch completely forgotten.  It's been almost 5 weeks since we've had any sort of sexual contact and I'm turned on the second I even feel his breath against my neck. I take a deep breath and get a hold of myself before I rip his clothes off, then turn and look at him.  I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he's just as ready to go as I am, but I ask, "Are you sure?"

"If we don't, I might die," he tells me with a totally straight face.  I laugh, because dramatic is not normally his style.  "We'll just have to be careful."

"I don't know if I have careful in me at this point, but I'll do my best," I promise.

He smirks.  "That's fine, I'll give you something else to have in you."

"You're disgusting," I say, rolling my eyes.  "Let's go upstairs."

Alex grabs my hand and pulls me upstairs, moving a lot more quickly than I'd seen him move since before his accident.  We're barely even in his bedroom when he presses his lips to mine and pulls my body against his.  He begins awkwardly pulling at my dress with one hand and I step back and tugged the zipper down then pull it over my head, then take off my tights.

Alex just stands there for several seconds, staring at me.  He does it long enough that I start to feel self-conscious standing there in my bra and underwear.  Finally he says, "You're beautiful.  Get over here and kiss me."

I gladly do, and I shiver as he runs his fingertips lightly down my spine and kisses me again.  He works to unhook my bra with one hand, fumbling like a newbie.  I laugh and say, "I can get it."

"No," he says stubbornly.  "I'm going to do it."  I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but luckily his next try frees the clasp and I shake my bra down my arms and onto the floor.  I nudge him backwards and he takes the hint and walks back until he runs into the bed.  I give him a minute to undress, lay down, and get situated, then climb onto the bed and carefully straddle his hips.  "Why are these still on?" he asks playfully, hooking a finger underneath my underwear and sliding it back and forth across my skin, making me shudder.

"Because I'm not ready to take them off," I reply, taking his hand and using all my willpower to move it away from me.  I lean down and kiss him for several seconds as I wrap my hand around him.  He's been hard since we got up here and it doesn't take much to have him panting and squirming.  I give him a short break and move so he can bite and suck on my nipples while he slides his fingers back underneath my underwear. I groan when he makes contact and let him get me close to an orgasm before I once again pull his hand away and slide down the bed.

I go down on him until he finishes, and it doesn't take long.  I wait until his grip on my hair relaxes enough that I can pull the strands free and move back up to lay next to him.  I don't even think he notices that I've moved until I start lightly running my fingertips over his chest and shoulder.  

He groans and clears his throat, then says, "Well."

"Yeah?" I reply, laughing.

"Yeah," he answers.  He shuts his eyes and is quiet for several seconds, then says, "I needed that."

"Oh good, then I guess my work here is done," I say sarcastically.  "I'll just get dressed and--"

"You'll do no such thing," he interrupts.  "I'm keeping you here naked for the rest of the day.  Now get those underwear off and come up here so I can thank you."

I lean up on my elbow and smirk at him.  "You're awfully bossy for someone who only has the use of one arm."

He reaches over, wraps that one arm around my waist, and pulls.  My body falls back against his and I'm stuck.  "If I didn't know better," he says softly near my ear, nipping lightly at my neck every couple words, "I'd think you didn't want sex."

"Mmm, well I'd hate for you to think that," I reply arching my back against him as he slides his hand beneath my underwear again.  "You know me, I just can't let everything be easy."

"I do know you," he agrees.  "And you don't let anything be easy.  But I do wish you'd take these off and come up here, because I miss the way you taste."  That was all it took for me to quit being a pain in the ass, and my underwear were off in about 2 seconds.  I carefully positioned my knees on either side of his shoulders and lowered myself to his mouth, gripping his headboard when his tongue slid against my skin.

Alex wasn't lying when he said he was going to keep me naked in his bed for the rest of the day.  We take frequent breaks and I do a vast majority of the work, but we work out some of the serious sexual frustration that has been 5 weeks in the making.  By dinner time, we we're both too dazed and tired to actually make anything, so I go down to the kitchen and come back with two bowls, two spoons, a box of cereal and the milk.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow," Alex groans, wincing as he works himself slowly into a seated position.  "Have you ever had sex with anyone that needed to take prescription pain meds afterwards just to function?"

"There was this old guy once..." I joke, smirking and cocking an eyebrow at him.

Alex shakes his head.  "You fucked up," he tells me.  "You could have married him, waited for him to die, collected on his life insurance and then started dating me."

"You're a horrible person," I inform him, struggling to keep the grin off my face.  "That's disgusting."

"You started it, babe," he reminds me, winking.

"Why don't people ever joke about men marrying old women for their inheritance and life insurance?" I ask.

"Because men would never stoop so low," he responds haughtily.

"You're really fucking lucky you have broken bones and shit," I tell him.  "I'll refrain from kicking your ass.  I think you're on your own tomorrow though."

"That's fine, I don't need help from you anyway," he replies.  Then I see him eyeing up the cereal box, which is on the other side of me and about 4 feet to his left.  He looks from the box to me and frowns.

"You were saying?" I ask, smirking.  He just laughs and shakes his head.  I hand him the box, then the milk.  Once we're done eating I take the stuff back downstairs then get back in bed with him.  We spend the rest of the evening laying in bed, watching Netflix.

The next morning, I'm washing dishes from breakfast and the night before, feeling much less cooped up than I had for awhile.  I'm putting dishes away when I hear Alex.

"Lauren?" he calls from the living room.  His voice sounds odd.

"What?" I yell back.

"You need to come see this."

I walk into the living room, slightly irritated at the interruption.  My irritation fades as I take the newspaper from him and see a large photo of my former office building on the front page.  I quickly scan the headline.  "Fortune 500 Company's Executives Under Fire in Sexual Harassment Cover Up."  "Shit," I mutter.  My eyes move to the sub-headline.  "Sean Condin Fired Amidst Scrutiny."

Monday, January 25, 2016

Friday, January 22, 2016

Lauren: Power Trip

I thought that I'd be nervous about being back at my old employer, but as I pull into the parking lot I'm as calm as can be.  I check my appearance in my visor mirror briefly, straighten a rogue piece of hair, then turn off my car and get out.  I'm precisely 4 minutes early.

People are starting to trickle out, leaving for the day, and I get a few a curious looks.  I wonder what kind of story Sean concocted to explain my absence.  I wonder if Logan straightened out any rumors, or contributed to them.  I could see it going either way, honestly.

Once inside, I walk straight up to the desk.  Kelly, the admin assistant sitting there, doesn't look surprised to see me so I imagine Sandra informed her I was coming.  "I'm here for an appointment with Sandra," I tell her.

"Okay," she replies placidly.  "I'll let her know you're here.  You can have a seat."  She gives me the smallest of knowing smiles at the end, but I don't return it before sitting down in the door closest to the the wing that houses HR.

I wait for over 10 minutes before Sandra comes out.  "Lauren, you're right on time," she says with an unconvincing smile plastered on her face.

"And you're not," I reply brightly, causing her fake smile to falter.

"Right, I'm sorry about that," she says, recovering quickly.  "I had something else I was finishing up."

I roll my eyes as she turns to lead me back through the twisting HR hallway to her office.  I've not spent much time over here, so the brief feeling of having no idea where we're going causes my confidence to waver slightly.  Luckily, as soon as we're in Sandra's office, it returns.

She motions to me to sit at the small round table that's in the corner of her office.  She collects a stack of paperwork and joins me.  "Did you have any questions before we get started?" Sandra asks me, handing me a pen.

"Yes, actually," I reply.  "I'd like to see the email that was sent from my account, on my behalf."

Sandra's eyes widen slightly, and she considers this.  "Fine," she answers finally.  "Let me print it.  You won't be able to take it with you, but you may look at here in my office."  She goes to her computer, clicks around a bit, and then I hear the printer in the corner come to life.  She returns to the table and hands me the page she printed.

I read over it.  It was definitely sent from my email account and it certainly does request a reduction in my responsibility due to the "overly stressful nature of my current role."  It also includes a request that all communication regarding the change in duties and job description go through Sean, as I'd like him to handle the transition so I can focus on wrapping up some of the projects I'm working on.  That explains why I never heard anything from HR about it, though it still seems strange to me.  Sean is a sneaky, manipulative bastard.

I had the page back to her calmly, even though I'm disgusted.  "Okay, I'm ready to look at the forms I need to sign."

"Great," she says, taking the first form off the stack and glancing at it, then sliding it over to me.  "This form lays out what you'll be receiving from us.  So you'll get the seven months of severance, paid biweekly on Mondays starting next Monday, and also the continued health insurance coverage, through the same 7 month time period."  She pauses and glances at me.  "Do you want to continue contributing to your 401k?"

"Absolutely," I reply.  If they're going to continue to match it, why would I turn down free money?

"So you'll need to check that box about halfway down the page.  That will continue through the seven months as well."  She pauses and waits, but I don't put my pen to the paper.  "Do you have questions?"

"I'm just reading through," I inform her.  She's out of her mind if she thinks I'm going to sign something without reading it.  "Also, I'm not signing anything until I see everything you want me to sign."

I glance up from the page to see her purse her lips briefly.  "Of course," she says, but it sounds forced.  I look back down at the form and then frown.

"All the dates on this form say 2015," I point out, sliding it back to her.

She blinks in surprise and the slightest flush creeps into her cheeks.  "They certainly do," she admits.  She looks at the next form and the pink on her cheeks darkens.  "I'll need a few minutes to fix these," she says, flipping through the other forms.

"That's fine," I say.  "I'd like to use the restroom, anyway."

Sandra directs me to the nearest bathroom, which is in a small alcove a hallway away from the main HR office hallway.  I make my way over there and use the single unisex bathroom then wash my hands.  I inspect myself in the mirror and determine that I did an excellent job picking out my outfit for this meeting.

When I walk out of the bathroom, I'm surprised to find Sean lurking in the hallway.  He looks just as surprised to see me.  The surprise on his face is quickly replaced with a sneer.  "Are you happy now?" he asks bitterly.

"Happy about what?" I ask calmly.

"About your little stunt.  I knew you were a vindictive little bitch."

"And what little stunt is that?" I reply.  I have no idea what he's talking about.

He rolls his eyes.  "Calling HR, ratting me out, landing me in all sorts of hot water.  I should have known you were up to something."

I laugh.  A full on, loud laugh as if he told a joke.  "First of all," I tell him, once I've gotten a hold of myself, "HR called me.  I didn't call HR.  Second of all, that is rich coming from you, considering you had an entire scheme to force me out of my position and into an assistant position.  I haven't quite worked out if your goal was to actually have me as your assistant or to get me to quit, but either way, it was awfully stupid of you to think you could get away with it."

He takes a step towards me and his nostrils flare.  It's not a good look for him.  I don't move, and I continue to gaze at him with a bored look on my face.  "You worthless little bitch," he sneers.  "You'll be happy to know that I'm getting transferred and demoted at best, possibly fired.  So if you're really that attached to your old job, you can take it back without worry that you'll have to look at me every day."

"Okay, Sean.  Thanks for the update!" I tell him cheerfully.  "Good luck to you!"  I slip past him and walk back towards Sandra's office.  I don't look back, but I can practically feel his eyes boring holes into my back as I walk away.  It isn't until I turn the corner that my hands start to shake slightly.  I take a deep breath and collect myself before I re-enter Sandra's office.

She smiles politely at me as I sit back down at the table.  I hope I don't look flustered.  "I've fixed the forms," she informs me.  "I'm so sorry about that."

"It's okay," I reply.  "I know how it goes."

She pushes the first form back to me, then goes through the next form, which is the release from liability.  It's identical to what she emailed me, except the dates are filled in.  I read through it again, then nod.  The next form, which probably should have been the first form, is an official notice of resignation.  The wording is changed slightly so that it says it's a "notification of dissolution of employment relationship."  Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sandra.  Then she gives me the last form, which she tells me is a non-disclosure agreement.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask.

"A non-disclosure agreement is a legal document stating that you won't--"

I interrupt.  "I know what a non-disclosure agreement is," I say, slightly irritated.  "But this is the first I've heard of it.  And why, exactly, are you interested in preventing me from disclosing what happened?"

"We don't want anyone to get unnecessarily riled up or upset," she tells me.  "And I'm sure I mentioned it when I told you about the release."

"You didn't," I say shortly.  I read through the agreement, which lays out very carefully, in great detail, that I cannot tell anyone in the entire world--including the Pope and Jesus and the Queen of England--the details of the dissolution of our employment relationship.  Too bad I've already told several people.  She can't possibly believe that no one knows.  "I'm not signing this," I tell her.  It explains her annoyance at me refusing to sign any of the other paperwork before seeing everything.

"It's a required document," she informs me.  "The rest of the deal is void without it."

"Then I guess the rest of the deal is void," I say.  There is no way I'm signing this document that she tried to sneak in here.  I start to gather my things and put on my coat.  I wasn't planning on suing before, because my need to make a point wasn't that strong.  Now it is.  "I imagine you'll be hearing from my attorney by the end of the week."  This time I'm not bluffing.  I'm already mentally composing a text to Evan to ask him for the contact information for the employment attorney he mentioned.

Sandra lets me get my coat on and get to the door.  I turn before I leave and say, "I ran into Sean when I came out of the bathroom.  We had an interesting chat.  Tell him I said good luck."  Then I put my hand on the knob and turn it.

I barely have the door open an inch when Sandra says, "Wait.  I'm sure we can work something out."  I turn back with one eyebrow raised skeptically.  I wait silently for her to say more.  "There's a chair outside my office," she goes on hurriedly.  "Can you have a seat while I speak to our attorney?"  I nod curtly and exit the office, shutting the door behind me.

As I sit down in the uncomfortable chair outside Sandra's office, I feel a rush of adrenaline.  I shouldn't be getting so much pleasure from this interaction, but I am.  I'm kind of in awe of my ability to negotiate with this powerful woman.  It's awesome.  Maybe I really am in the wrong business.

I wait for just a couple minutes before the door opens and Sandra steps out.  "Come on in, Lauren.  Sorry about that."

I walk in without saying anything and sit back down in my seat at the table.  Sandra sits across from me.  "Will you sign a revised non-disclosure agreement that only restricts you from speaking to the media?"

The media?  Is this woman for real?  I wonder what the fuck is actually going on here.  I pause long enough to make her squirm.  "I'd like to read it," I tell her.  She hands it over and I read through.  True to her word, from what I can tell, this agreement only limits me (or anyone acting under my direction) from speaking to the media regarding the details of the dissolution of our employment relationship.  "I will sign this," I tell her.  I have no desire to talk to the media.  Actually, that's not entirely true.  I had no desire to talk to the media until she told me I can't.  Now I have a very strong desire to do so, but I know I don't want anything to do with the circus that would ensue.

The relief on Sandra's face is clear.  I re-read all the forms to make sure she didn't sneakily try to change anything, then sign, initial, and check the right boxes.  It's well after 5 by the time I leave with my copy of the forms I've signed.

I'm giddy with the excitement of the power I wielded today and I don't even notice Logan until he says my name.  He's leaning against the passenger side of my car.  "I thought this was your car," he  says.  "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, have I got a story for you," I tell him, grinning.  It's a good thing I didn't sign that original non-disclosure agreement.  Still high on my power trip, I start to tell him everything that just went down.




Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Kinsley: He Kissed Me

This is the last Kinsley post for the week.  Come back at the end of the week for the next Lauren post!
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At first, the situation didn't even register, and I let myself kiss him back briefly before I realized what was happening.  It felt good, and I leaned into him, letting my hands travel up his arms and across his chest.  As I was touching him, it occurred to me that I wasn't touching Damien, and I yanked my hands back then shoved him away from me, ending the kiss abruptly.  "What the fuck?" I hissed.  "Get the fuck away from me."

"Kinsley," Cole said, and he didn't look terribly sorry.  "Come on, you know you wanted that as much as I did."

"I have a boyfriend, you motherfucker!" I spat at him.  "And you fucking know that!"

"I won't tell him if you won't," he replied, lazily leaning against my car and cocking his head, watching me.

"Get. The fuck. Away. From me!" I snapped loudly, attracting the attention of a couple walking past.  They watched us warily as they continued on.  "You are such a fucking piece of shit," I half-whispered furiously to Cole.  "Now move because I need to leave right now."

He moved away from my car and watched helplessly as I yanked the door open, got in, and slammed it closed so hard the whole car rocked slightly.  "Fuck!" I yelped, once I was inside.  I started the car, glanced quickly around to make sure no one was in my way, and gunned it onto the road.  "Fuck fuck fuck what the fuck!"

Without thinking, I drove straight to Damien's house.  I got out--almost forgetting to turn off my car--and pounded on the door.  When he didn't answer, I rang the doorbell.  I waited about 3 seconds, then rang it again.  "Goddamn it," I muttered angrily.  Just as I was getting ready to get back in my car, I saw a light go on.  I knocked on the door again and waited.

The porch light turned on suddenly, then I heard the lock.  The tears started the second Damien pulled open the door and blinked sleepily at me.  "Kinsley?" he asked, looking confused.  The confusion turned to concern when he saw I was crying.  "Kinsley, what's wrong?"

"He kissed me," I choked out.  "He kissed me."  I repeated it one more time for good measure, then added a miserable, "I'm so sorry."

Damien blinked and rubbed his hand over his face, then stepped back and pulled the door open.  "I think you should come in," he said placidly.

I nodded and stepped inside, dragging my pathetic ass over to his couch and collapsing in a heap.  "I'm so sorry," I sobbed, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Damien tried to put an arm around me but I flinched and pulled away.  "Kinsley, please try to calm down," he said patiently.  That just made me cry harder.  He leaned back against the back of the couch and yawned, waiting for me to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

I finally managed to get it together a little bit.  I wiped furiously at my face and almost lost it again when Damien handed me a Kleenex.  I tried to take care of the situation that I was sure was happening under my eyes, but gave up.  "He kissed me," I said for about the fifth time.  "And I kissed him back.  I didn't mean to.  It was awful.  I'm so sorry."

Now I had his attention.  "Who kissed you?" he asked warily.

"Cole," I moaned miserably.  "That motherfucker.  I'm sorry.  Damien, I'm sorry."

"Would you please just tell me what the hell is going on?" he snapped.  His face was unreadable and he didn't raise his voice, but I could tell by how fast he was talking that he was agitated.  "Who is Cole?"

I took a deep, shaky breath and began my explanation.  I reminded him who Cole was, and his jaw twitched.  I told him about running into him on Monday with Liv and Lauren, and him following me to my car.  I told him that we'd run into him again tonight, and he'd walked me to my car because I was parked so far away.  And then I told him what had happened when we got there.  "And I'm sorry," I finished pathetically.

He sighed and rubbed his hand across his hair.  "So, you just happened to run into him twice in the same week after not seeing him for months?" he asked.  He had control of his words again, and he spoke at his normal rate.

"I thought it was weird too," I replied weakly.  "But remember how many times James ran into Liv way back before they started dating?"  I was grasping at straws to prove my innocence and realized that I was probably making myself sound guiltier.

"And he knows you have a boyfriend," Damien continued, clearly trying to make sense of everything.  I was hopeful; it seemed like he wanted to believe me, even though my story was admittedly far fetched.

"Yes, he absolutely knows that," I told him.  I tentatively reached for one of his hands but he moved it out of my reach.  I bit my lip and looked down.

"So you happened to run into the guy you were fucking while we were broken up, not once but twice in the same week?  And he walked you to your car, because you were parked far away and it was 1am on a Saturday, and any decent man would do that?  And then he kissed you.  And you kissed him back, but only for a second until you realized what was happening?  And then you told him to get the fuck away from you, got in your car, and drove straight here?"  His words were careful, his speech slow.  I could tell he was processing everything out loud as he spoke, and the couple of words he emphasized were the only clue that he was unhappy.

I nodded and he leaned forward and put his face in his hands for several seconds before he looked back up at me.  "It all sounds a little...unbelievable," he said.

"Yes," I said softly.  "I know it does."

Without looking up, he said, "I need some time to process all this.  It's late, so if you'd like to stay rather than drive home, you're welcome to the guest room."

I stood up, not sure what to do.  "I..." I stopped.  "I can just go home," I said reluctantly.  I was worried about what would happen if I left, but I knew I needed to respect his need for some time and space.  I grabbed my purse, which was tipped on its side on the floor next to the couch, and walked towards the door.

I was at the door when Damien said, "Wait."  I stopped with my hand on the knob.  "I'd prefer it if you stayed," he said quietly.  "In the guest room.  But here.  You can go if you want, I understand.  But...the last time you walked out of my house like this, everything got really fucked up.  I want this to be different.  I just need to think."

I turned around and he was watching me.  "I just need to think," he repeated.  "But I want you to stay.  If you want to."  His face was finally showing some signs of his emotions, and he looked weary, confused, and sad.  I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than angry, which is what I had been expecting.

"I'd like to," I agreed.  "I'm not sure I'm really in a good state to be driving this late."

He led me up to the guest room and left to let me get settled.  In the attached bathroom I found a toothbrush, toothpaste, and generic face wash in the drawer of the vanity.  I scrubbed off my makeup and brushed my teeth.

I came out of the bathroom just in time to hear Damien knock on the bedroom door.  I opened it.  He handed me a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  "The pants are too small for me, though they'll probably still be huge on you."  I took them and we both stood there for a few seconds.  As if he just remembered it, he held out his other hand, dangling a hooded sweatshirt towards me.  He shrugged.  "You know how cold it can be in here in the morning."

"Thank you," I said, taking the sweatshirt and laying it over the chair in the room.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.  "Did you find a toothbrush?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding.  This felt so stiff, so formal.  "I think I have everything I need.  Thank you."

"You're welcome."  He regarded me carefully for a minute, and I resisted the urge to throw myself at him, to wrap my arms around him so tightly that he'd have no choice but to hug me back.  To my surprise, he stepped forward and put his arms around me.  I sagged against his chest in relief, wrapping my arms tightly around his lower back and choking back a sob.  I didn't want to start crying again.  Too soon, he let go and stepped back.  I bit my lip and looked at his chest.  "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too," I whispered.  I made eye contact with him as I said it, maybe for the first time since I'd gotten here.

"Goodnight, Kinsley."  And then he was gone.  I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall to his room.  I squeezed my eyes shut and sank down onto the bed, feeling like the worst person in the world.  How could I have let this happen?  I never should have let Cole walk me to my car.  I should have gone with Liv and Lauren like someone with some common sense would have.  I should have let them drive me to my car.

I fought back tears and I pulled my phone out of my purse and toyed with it.  I desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone, but I realized I had no one to talk to.  Lauren would lecture me.  Liv would be overly sympathetic, which I didn't want right now.  This is when some of my friends would call their moms, or a sibling, I thought bitterly.  Too bad my family was so fucked up.

I threw my phone across the room, and it hit the wall with a dull thud.  I angrily pulled off my clothes and pulled Damien's t-shirt over my head.  I looked desperately around the room for something to derive some minuscule bit of comfort from and settled on Damien's sweatshirt.  I tucked it into a ball and climbed into bed, hugging the sweatshirt tightly against my body.  Once more, I cursed my awful, fucked up family, and then I started to cry again.

I cried for about a half hour before I managed to calm myself down.  I felt like such a disaster.  I was sniffling and sucking in shaky breaths when I heard a very faint knock on the door.  Before I could respond, the door slid open a couple inches.  I rolled over and saw Damien slip into the room.  He didn't say anything, he just climbed under the blankets and laid next to me, wrapping his arm tightly around me.  I didn't say anything either, and soon I fell asleep--the first time I'd ever fallen asleep in someone's arms.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Kinsley: Friends

You know how I love my bonuses.  I'll be back to school soon and won't have time to write as many, so I better give you guys some while I can!  If you haven't read Sunday's post yet, don't miss it!
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Our pre-dinner sex was exactly what I needed to settle down a little.  Cole was gone from my head, and I even grabbed Damien's hand as we left my house and walked to his truck--which was indeed running.  "At least my truck is still here," Damien teased me as he pulled open the passenger side door for me.

"What's this?" I asked, smirking.  "You knock on my door like a gentleman, fuck me like that, and then open the car door for me like a gentleman?  Trying to make sure I know you're not a dirty old man?"

He laughed and shook his head.  "Careful with that 'old man' crap," he said.  "Don't make me prove my virility again."  He winked and held out a hand to help me up into the truck.

I snorted as I got in and muttered, "Your virility.  Okay, Damien."

He walked around the front of the truck and climbed in on the driver's side.  "Hi," he said, smiling at me.  "I never got the chance to properly greet you."

"Hi," I answered, returning his smile and leaning over the center console to kiss him.  He gently pushed a piece of hair out of the way, then cradled the side of my face in his hand as he kissed me back.  I loved the contrast of the tenderness after the quick, hard sex we'd just had.  I leaned my face against his hand for a second after we separated and sighed.

"How was your day?" he asked, his hand still warm against my face.

I closed my eyes briefly before I settled back into my seat and put my seatbelt on.  "It was fine," I said.  "We're slow at work this week so I spent a lot of time shopping online."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, chuckling.  "What did you buy?"

"Nothing," I replied.  "I was window shopping, I guess."

"Something in particular you were looking for?"

I shrugged.  "I want a new pair of boots but nothing is really doing it for me.  I made my appointment to use my Christmas gift for Saturday, too."

"Good," he said, smiling.

"I'm looking forward to it.  How was your day?"

"Busy," he replied.  "I went in early so I could get out at a reasonable time tonight so we could go out to dinner."

"Well, thank you," I said.  "We could have rescheduled for tomorrow if you were that busy."

"I didn't want to," he told me.  "I wanted to see you tonight."

Our dinner was nice and I relaxed even more.  "I figured while I was spending the day at the salon, I might as well get my hair cut too," I told Damien as we were waiting for our appetizer.

"Yeah?  What are you going to do with it?"

"I think I'm going to cut if off," I answered.  "Collarbone length or so."

Damien reached over and brushed my long hair back over my shoulders and cocked his head.  Then he nodded.  "I think that will look good on you," he said.

"Good," I replied, "Because even if you didn't, I'd still do it."

"I would never expect you to do something with your hair or clothes or makeup based on what I like, so we're on the same page," he said, chuckling.

A devious smirk turned up the corners of mouth.  "I'd wear lingerie that you liked," I said quietly, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Would you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to match mine.  "Now that I might take you up on."

"Pick something out and I'll get it and wear it for you," I told him.

He was about to respond when our server brought us the appetizer we'd ordered.  He snapped his mouth shut and just smiled slyly at me instead.  I loved this side of him, and I'd been seeing more of it lately.

We managed to behave ourselves for the rest of dinner, then we moved to the bar area for one last drink before we headed back.  We sat in the corner of the bar, legs touching, talking as we drank.

Once we finished our drinks, we left.  I shivered as we walked out into the cold and Damien slipped his arm around me.  I moved close enough to him that it made it hard to walk, and we both laughed as I shifted away enough so that we could make our way down the sidewalk without tripping each other.

"My lady," Damien said, bowing as he opened the door to his truck for me.

I took his hand and climbed up into the truck.  "You're ridiculous," I told him, laughing.

He kissed my hand and said, "I'm okay with that," before he shut the door.

When we got back to my house, Damien plopped down on the couch and pulled me down next to him.  I curled up against his chest and let him wrap his arms around me.  We cuddled on the couch until we were both almost asleep, then we moved up to bed.

Damien was busy all week and I didn't get to see him again until Friday.  He was exhausted, so we stayed in.  I even pretended to be a good girlfriend and cooked him dinner.

After dinner, we hung out on the couch together with a movie on and Damien's head in my lap.  I absently massaged his head, rubbing my fingertips over his short hair.  About 20 minutes into the movie, I impulsively blurted out, "Do you want to get married?"

"Right now?" he asked, turning his head up to smirk at me.

"Don't be a dick," I tell him, my cheeks getting pink.  "Never mind."

He twisted and sat up, looking at me seriously now.  "I'm sorry.  Tell me what you meant."

I was uncomfortable and I fidgeted under his gaze.  He read my discomfort perfectly and laid back down, settling his head back on my lap.  My fingers automatically went back to his head, soothed by the texture of his hair against them.  It's easier to talk without him looking at me.  "I mean...ever, I guess?  Is marriage a thing that you want, someday?  With someone?  I know that you were engaged..." I trailed off, regretting saying anything at all.

"I would like to get married someday," he answered.  "I'd like to have a family too, maybe."

"A family?" I squeaked.  I cleared my throat.  "Like, kids?"

I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.  "Yes, like kids.  How about you?  Do you want to get married?  Have kids?"

This seemed like such a nonchalant and ridiculous way to have this conversation, but I wasn't ready to have it in any other way yet.  "Yeah," I replied.  "I mean, I think."

"You think?" he probed gently.

"I guess I spent so long convinced that I'd never end up in an actual relationship that I've only just started considering the possibility of both," I admitted.

"And what has you considering these possibilities now?" he asked.  This time his smile was clear.

"Shut up," I said.

"It wouldn't be me, would it?"  He turned and looked up at me.

"I said shut up," I reminded him, fighting my smile.  "But maybe."

He reached up for my hand and twisted his fingers with mine, bringing my hand to his lips.  He kissed my knuckles gently then brought our linked hands to his chest, resting them there.  "Well, if you're thinking about wanting to maybe marry me someday, and you want to talk about it some more, I'd be happy to.  But I'm not in a hurry."

"Okay," I said.  "I'll keep that in mind."  He nodded and turned back towards the movie, and I was relieved.  Both that the conversation was over, and that it had happened.

I barely managed to kick Damien out in time for me to leave for my salon appointment on Saturday.  Somehow, I got there with 2 minutes to spare, which is basically the normal person's equivalent of being about 20 minutes early.

The day was excellent, and though I had briefly second guessed my plan to chop off my hair, by the time I sat in my stylist's chair I was relaxed enough to go for it.  When I sat down, my hair fell to the middle of my back.  When I left, nearly 8 inches was gone.  I shook my head, feeling the ends of my hair brush across the back of my neck.

The first thing I did when I got in my car was take a picture and send it to Damien, Liv, and Lauren, then posted it to Facebook.  Don't pretend you don't you do the same thing.  Then I hurried home to get ready.  Lauren, Liv, and I were having a girls' night out tonight.  It had been a long time since we'd done that, and I was excited.

Of course, I'd promised Damien I'd go for a run with him in the morning, Lauren had to get back to Alex, and Liv lived out of town, so it was safe to say that none of us would be getting wild and crazy tonight.  It didn't matter.  Going out and having a couple drinks and dancing with them was enough for me.

We were on the third bar of the evening (and getting close to tapping out) when someone touched my shoulder.  "What are you drinking?" Cole asked, close to my ear.

"Water," I replied, once I had caught my breath.  "And for fuck's sake, stop sneaking up on me like that!"  I whirled and glared at him.  He was, of course, smirking.  I cocked an eyebrow angrily and he tried to make his grin go away but it wasn't working.

"Sorry," he said.  "It's loud in here, there was no way to get your attention without scaring you."

"You're full of shit," I snapped.  "And seriously?  I don't see you anywhere for months and now I see you twice in one week?"

"Months ago you would have been happy about that," he replied nonchalantly.  He nodded a belated greeting to Lauren and Liv, who were both watching a little suspiciously.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Lauren called.  "Do you want to come?"  I paused, then shook my head.  She raised her eyebrows at me, then shrugged and grabbed Liv, pulling her towards the bathroom.

"I'm a little bummed that you're not happier to see me," Cole said, not sounding bummed at all.  He leaned against the table, effectively trapping me between him and the wall.  "I was hoping we could at least stay friends."

"Cole," I started.  I shook my head and stopped.

"What?" he asked.

"I can't be friends with you," I told him simply.  "It's too hard."

"Why?" He looked genuinely curious.

I sighed and pushed my hair out of my face.  "You know why.  I've never been able to look at you without wanting to get in your pants.  It's not like that's changed.  I'm not interested in doing anything to fuck up my relationship, so I think it's better if we're just...not."

He looked as though he was considering this when Lauren and Liv came back.  "Are you ready to leave?" Liv asked, after a quick glance at Cole.  She looked down at her watch, which I hadn't noticed before and must be new.  It looked expensive.  "It's getting kind of late."

"Yeah," I said quickly.  "I'm ready."  After a quick discussion of where we were parked, we discovered Lauren and Liv were parked fairly close and I was parked in the opposite direction and a solid 5 blocks away.

Cole glanced at me and said, "Let me walk you to your car, at least."

"Fine," I agreed grudgingly.  I wasn't looking forward to the 5 block walk by myself this late on a Saturday, anyway.

"You're okay, then?" Lauren asked me.  "Otherwise you can walk with us and one of us can drop you off at your car."

"I'm okay," I told her.  I hugged them both and we set off in opposite directions.

Cole kept up easily with my brisk pace, and was mercifully quiet as we walked.  When we got to my car, I turned and said, "Well, thanks for walking with me.  I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he said, and it was one of the most sincere-sounding things that had ever come out of his mouth.  "By the way, I like your hair...even if it's probably harder to get a good handful now."

I rolled my eyes and without thinking said, "I'm sure it's just fine."

"Let's see," he said teasingly, and before I could stop him, he'd grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my head.  Operating purely on reflex, I sighed and let my eyes flutter closed, losing myself for just a second.

And then Cole kissed me.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Kinsley: In a Hurry

"Cole," I said in surprise.  "Hi."  Liv and Lauren look really confused, and they're looking between Cole and I as if they've never seen a man before.

"Hey Kins," he replied, flashing a smile that was enough to make my palms start to sweat.  "It's been awhile."

"Yeah," I agreed.  "It has been.  How are you?"

"I'm good.  And you look good.  Are you going to introduce me to your gorgeous friends?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.  "Gorgeous and very much not single," I informed him.  "But, the one with the huge diamond on her left hand is Olivia, and the one with the huge emerald on her left hand is Lauren."

Cole grinned and said, "Nice to meet you, Huge Diamond Olivia and Huge Emerald Lauren.  I'm Cole, I used to work with Kinsley."   Liv and Lauren both said hi, then looked back at me.  They're clearly confused, and I don't blame them.  "Anyway, I'll let you ladies get back to your dinner, but I wanted to say hi.  I'll see you around."  He smiled disarmingly at each of us in turn, then turned and left.

"Okay," Liv said, as soon as he was out of earshot.  "Who the hell is that?"

"He is hot," Lauren added.  She narrowed her eyes at me.  "And you've fucked him, haven't you?  Lucky bitch."

"Yeah," I replied.  "I was sleeping with him while Damien and I were broken up."

"Was it good?  I bet it was, he looks like he knows how to lay some serious pipe," Lauren observed.

Liv's face turns pink and she elbows Lauren.  "'Lay some serious pipe'? Really?"

I laughed and Lauren joined me.  "Yeah, actually.  He's pretty talented."

"Too bad I'm not single," Lauren said, cocking an eyebrow.  "Mmmm."  That time, Liv and I both looked at her.  "What?  I'm out of sorts today, wait until you hear what happened."  Lauren filled us in on what happened with her job and I was absolutely shocked.  We talked about it for the rest of our dinner, forgetting about Cole and his serious pipe.

I hit the bathroom before I left, saying goodbye to Lauren and Liv as they headed for the door.  On my way out, I glanced towards the bar, and happened to catch Cole's eye.  He grinned and winked, tipping his chin ever so slightly.  I smiled back and turned, leaving quickly so I didn't have to think about the way that smile and wink made me feel.

I was unlocking my car door when his voice made me jump.  "In a hurry?" he asked.

I spun and glared at him.  He was leaning casually against the side of my car.  "Jesus Christ, Cole.  You should fucking know better than to sneak up on me like that.  Fuck you!"

"Here?" He smirked and glanced around.  "If you really want to."

"You're disgusting," I said.

"You've never complained before," he replied with a shrug.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked him, trying to covertly check him out.  The way the corners of his lips twitched up told me I wasn't sneaky enough.

He shrugged.  "I just wanted to say hi.  I haven't seen you since you got back together with that boyfriend."

"That's probably a good thing, don't you think?"

"Depends on your perspective, I guess," he replied.  "I was just starting to enjoy hanging out with you."

"Cole," I said, a note of warning in my voice.

He held up his hands in surrender.  "I didn't mean anything by it," he assured me.  "I'm not looking to change your situation.  You've got a good thing, from what you told me.  It all just ended a little abruptly and I do miss pulling that pretty hair of yours."  He reached out and grabbed the end of a chunk of hair and tugged lightly.

"Stop it," I demanded, trying to ignore the flutter of anticipation in my stomach when he tugged on my hair.

He let go of my hair and shifted back a little.  "Sorry," he said, and it sounded genuine.  "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick, I swear.  I really did just want to say hi.  I can't help being an asshole sometimes."

"No kidding," I replied, pulling open my car door.  "Look, it was good to see you, but I really should get going."

"Sure," he answered, flashing that disarming smile again.  "Good to see you too.  I wouldn't mind running into you again."  He cocked an eyebrow, then turned and headed back towards the restaurant.
I got in my car and took a deep, shaky breath.  I pushed my hair out of my face and silently reminded myself of the ridiculous amount of really amazing sex Damien and I had had over the weekend, and how miserable I'd been without him.  "Fuck," I whispered to myself.  Why did 5 minutes with this asshole make me weak in the knees?

I grabbed my phone and called Damien.  "Hey, baby," he answered cheerfully, and I immediately felt guilty.

"Hi," I replied.  "What are you doing?"

"Still at the office, unfortunately," he said.  "I can come over when I'm done, if you want?"

"No, that's okay," I told him.  Realizing that was a strange answer, I hurried to amend it.  "I just got done with dinner and I'm really tired.  I think I'm going to head to bed early tonight."

"Okay," he replied, sounding a little disappointed.  "Can I see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Definitely," I said immediately.  "Can we go out for dinner?"

"We can do whatever you want," he told me.  "But I guess I should get back to work so I can get out of here at a reasonable time.  I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay.  I love you, Damien."

"I love you, too.  Goodnight, Kinsley."  I said goodnight and hung up, resting my forehead on the steering wheel briefly before I straightened and started the car.

I made my way home and without even thinking about what I was doing I started to clean.  My house wasn't nearly as clean as it had been during the time Damien and I were broken up.  I hadn't had a good excuse to give it a good deep clean, but now I did.  Anything to keep my mind off Cole.

Honestly, I was pissed at myself for letting his presence and his touch get to me.  I'd barely even thought about him since Damien and I got back together.  Until tonight.  Asshole.  Who the fuck did he think he was?

I cleaned furiously, and eventually my rage started to subside.  I realized I was overreacting and if he said he didn't mean anything by it, then he didn't mean anything by it.  I glanced at the clock and realized with shock that I'd been cleaning for 3 hours.  I finished up dusting my living room furniture and window sills and put my cleaning supplies away.

It was past my bedtime but I got in the shower to try to get the cleaning supply smell off me.  Cleaning and the shower relaxed me, and it didn't take me long to fall asleep.  It also didn't take me long to wake up from a steamy dream about Cole.  In the dream, he'd used his grip on a handful of my hair to tilt my head back and was dragging his teeth down my throat.  His other hand was... I shook my head to clear the thought, but I shivered just remembering the dream.  "God damn it, girl, get it together," I hissed at myself in the dark.

I got out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, and splashed a little cool water on my face, trying to calm the angry, neglected throbbing of certain parts of my anatomy.  I got back in bed and tossed and turned until the feeling finally faded and I fell back to sleep.

I was on edge all day at work.  For some reason, the dream (and my body's reaction to it) really shook me up.  I had sex dreams about random guys all the time, but they never bothered me.  This one, however, felt like it was mocking me.

When Damien knocked on my door to pick me up for dinner (seriously, even now he still knocks on my door), I flung it open, grabbed him by the front of his coat, and pulled him inside.  He barely got a chance to greet me before I kissed him hard.

"Kinsley," he said breathlessly, gently disentangling himself.  "My truck is running."

"You'd better fucking make it quick then, huh?" I replied, grinning devilishly at him.  Never one to turn down a challenge, he backed me up to the arm of the couch, spun me around and shoved my upper body down across the couch.  Then he flipped my dress up onto my back and tugged my tights down.

"Next time, skip the tights," he demanded, working them down my thighs.  He left them around my calves, trapping my legs together, and worked a hand between my legs.  I groaned and arched my back just in time for his hand to disappear.  I heard his belt, then his zipper, and then he was sliding into the small space created by my tightly joined legs and pushing inside of me.  I moaned and dropped my head down to rest on the couch cushion in front of me as he slid a hand beneath me and began stroking me as he thrust.

I was seconds away from orgasm when he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of my hair, tugging my head up and arching my back.  I came immediately, my legs trembling against the side of the couch.  Damien used the hand under my hips to keep me from sliding down to the floor and thrust harder, making me come a second time in less than a minute.  He finished shortly after and stroked my back for several seconds, keeping me pinned between his body and the couch until my legs could support my weight again.  Even after he pulled out, I stayed bent over the arm of the couch, catching my breath.

"Holy shit," I breathed, pulling my face up from the couch cushion.  "Where the fuck did that come from?"  It had been exactly what I needed, and not Damien's normal style.  Even when he humored me and pulled my hair or fucked me hard, it still had a very distinct "Damien" feel to it.  This had felt like a totally different person fucking me hard from behind.

"I could ask you the same thing," he answered, lightly smacking my ass.  "I guess you inspired me.  Are you ready for dinner?   I'm starving."

"Sure," I replied, finally straightening up.  I dragged my tights back up and adjusted them, then smoothed my dress back down over my ass.  "Yeah.  Let's go eat."


Saturday, January 16, 2016

Lauren: Release of Liability

Couldn't leave you hanging for too long!  Happy Saturday!
____________________________

There's a long pause as Sandra collects herself.  "If you're not interested in having your job back," she says finally, speaking slowly, "I'm authorized to offer you a severance package."

Apparently she isn't terribly surprised by my threat.  Alex is watching me intently, and I wonder if he can hear Sandra at all.  "Tell me more," I say.

"I can offer you 4 month's severance pay," she informs me.  "We'd continue to pay it on the same twice monthly schedule as you received your salary while you were employed here.  In return, of course, we'd require you to sign a release of liability."

"That means I sign something saying I won't sue you," I say.

"Correct," Sandra confirms.

"Can you email me the release?  I'll have my attorney look it over when I discuss my options with him."  A little bluff never hurt anyone.  Alex cocks an eyebrow at me and I shrug.  He smirks and shakes his head.

"Um, of course," Sandra replies, sounding flustered for the first time.  I give her my personal email address and tell her I'll talk to my attorney and get back to her.

After we hang up, Alex gives me a look.  "Where are you going to find an attorney?"

"Amanda's husband is an attorney," I reply, shrugging.

Alex laughs.  "Isn't he in patent law?"

"Well, yeah," I answer.  "But I don't really need to talk to an attorney.  I'm not going to actually sue them."

"You could," Alex points out.

"I could," I agree.  "But honestly?  I just want to be done with them and move on.  I'm just not above making them sweat a little."

Alex shrugs one shoulder.  "Maybe you should at least talk to Amanda's husband."

"I can," I agree.

"So did they tell you anything?  I mean, are they firing Sean?"

I roll my eyes.  "'Those involved are being dealt with'," I tell him in a mocking tone.

"Really?" he asks, shaking his head.  "Dealt with, huh?  That shit pisses me off."

I grin.  It takes a lot for Alex to get worked up, and even though his voice isn't raised and his face hasn't changed, I know he's angry on my behalf and I appreciate that.  "Me too," I agree.  "Want to go out for lunch?"

"Yes!" he agrees, quickly and enthusiastically.  "Let's get out of here for awhile."

We go out to lunch, and because it's nice out, we wander around on a short walk.  It doesn't take much for Alex to get short of breath, but he insists on just taking a break and walking a little more.  I know he's going crazy being stuck at home.  He'd tried to get his doctor's approval to at least do some work from home but his doctor said absolutely not for at least two weeks.  He has an appointment on Friday and he's hoping they'll let him start doing some work, either from home or going into the office once or twice a week.

When he's finally too tired to wander around anymore, we head back to his house and he goes upstairs to nap.  I don't feel like job searching so I put on a movie and make myself comfortable in the spot Alex has practically worn out in the last week.  I doze off while I watch, and I wake up when Alex comes back down.  I hang out with him for a little while, then head upstairs to do a little job searching.

Around 7 I call Amanda.  "To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call from my little sister so soon after I last saw her?" Amanda asks sarcastically when she answers.

"I actually want to talk to Evan," I tell her.

"Of course you do," she replies.  "About what?"  I quickly explain and she just says, "Huh.  Well, let me get him."

"You know I don't do legal advice over the phone," Evan says cheerfully, picking up Amanda's phone.

"I don't want legal advice," I retort, "just some brotherly advice."

"Alright, hit me."

I fill him in and he listens quietly.  He doesn't say anything until I finish, and then he asks, "What's more important to you: making a point or getting something for the shit you had to deal with?"

"'Both' isn't an option?"

"Well, you have a case, but without any proof in your hands of what you think happened, you'll spend more in legal fees than your case is probably worth," he says.  "But if you wanted to make a point, that would be the way to do it."

"So I'm better off taking the severance pay," I say.

"No legal advice, remember?  You need to figure out what's more important.  If you decide making a point is more important, I know a good employment attorney I can recommend.  If you decide taking the money is more important, send me what they want you to sign and I'll make sure you're not going to get screwed."

I get his email address and tell him I'm going to send him the release that Sandra sent me.  I thank him for his non-legal-advice and hang up, then send him the release.  He emails me back in a few minutes and lets me know it's a pretty standard release from liability and he didn't see anything too concerning in it.  I email him back a thanks and then toss my phone aside and head downstairs.

"My non-legal counsel advised me that suing is probably a waste of time and money," I inform Alex.
"If you take the severance, you can focus on just applying for jobs you'd really want," Alex points out.  "You wouldn't have to take something just to have a job."

"That's true," I agree.  "It would give me some more time to wait for something awesome.  There's not much right now."

"There will probably be more after the first of the year," Alex suggests.  I nod.  "What do you think you're going to do?" he asks.

"I think I'll probably take the severance.  I might fuck with them a little bit more first, though."

Alex laughs.  "I wouldn't expect any less of you," he says.

I end up going home for the night.  I need to pick up my mail and check on the house.  I feel a little anxious leaving Alex alone but he assures me that he could use some alone time too.  I remind myself that it's not like he can't get around and do things for himself.  I'm ridiculous.

I wait until mid-afternoon to call Sandra back.  "My attorney told me I have a case," I inform her.  That's not even a lie.  Well, the part about him being my attorney is, I guess.

"Oh," Sandra replies.  It's a calculated response.  We're both silent for several seconds.  She cracks first.  "I've be authorized to increase your severance," she tells me.

"Oh," I reply, in the same tone Sandra used.  Maybe I should have gone to law school.

"I can do 7 months severance pay, plus you'll retain the same insurance coverage with the company paying the same amount of the premium.  In addition, if you'd like to continue contributing to your 401k with the severance pay, we'll continue to match it up to 5%."  She delivers the news in a bored and businesslike tone, as though she doesn't really give a shit what I decide.  Maybe she doesn't.

"7 months?" I ask.  "That's an interesting number."  I try to match her bored tone, but in reality I'm pretty excited that my request to talk to "my attorney" got me another 3 months of pay, plus insurance and continued 401k matching.

"One month for every year you've worked for us, plus a bonus month," she informs me.

"Hmmm," I respond.  Sandra says nothing.  I grow bored of my own game finally and say, "That sounds fair to me."

"Excellent," she replies.  "When can you come in and sign the paperwork?"

I glance at the clock and see it's almost 3.  "How about 4:30?" I ask, knowing that's probably close to when she usually leaves.

"Are you available any earlier?" she asks.

"Unfortunately I'm not," I lie.

She pauses, and I swear I hear her sigh.  "Alright, I'll see you at 4:30, then.  You can ask for me at the front desk.  I'll let them know I'm expecting you."  That's right, I'll have to check in at the desk like a normal non-employee.  That will be weird.

I hang up the phone and head to the shower, needing to get ready for what I hope is my final appearance at my former employer.







Thursday, January 14, 2016

Lauren: A Serious Mistake

I'm so relieved that Alex isn't upset about me quitting (or about not telling him right away, or about the text from Logan...) that I'm not even nervous about the idea of calling HR.  I really don't even think about it the rest of the weekend.

By the end of the weekend, I've practically moved in to Alex's house.  He's figured out how to manage most things with one arm by this point, and he can use the hand of his injured arm for quick, simple things like buttoning his jeans, but there are lots of things around the house he can't really do.  Of course it's all the most fun things like cooking and washing dishes.  But, unfortunately, those things are necessary so I'm helping him because despite popular opinion, I'm actually a nice person.

"You should quit your job and move in and just cook and clean for me all the time," Alex tells me on Sunday night.  I glare at him and he smirks and continues, "Oh wait, you already quit your job.  Perfect.  I can't pay you, and I can't even have sex with you, but know that I appreciate all your hard work."

"I swear I will kill you," I growl, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I don't think you will," he replies, shifting on the couch and putting his feet up.

I raise an eyebrow.  "Let's see how cocky you are when you have nothing to eat and your dishes don't get done."

He shrugs his right shoulder and says, "I only need one hand to order pizza and open the door."

"You've gotten awfully entitled with your injuries," I say, rolling my eyes.

He smirks.  "I know, I'm lucky you love me."

"You sure are," I mutter, snatching his empty water glass and striding into the kitchen to refill it.  When I come back, I hand it to him and then move his feet to sit next to him.

"Come here," he says, motioning for me to get closer.  I curl up next to him and tuck myself under his arm.  "I love you," he tells me, kissing the top of my head.  "Thank you for staying here and helping me.  You're way less annoying than my mom."

I burst into laughter.  "Really?  That's the compliment you have for me?  That I'm 'less annoying' than your mom?"

"Actually, I said 'way less annoying'," he points out.

"Mmhmm," I reply.  "And you're way less ugly than that stupid looking bird we saw the other week."

He laughs, knowing exactly which bird I'm talking about.  "I deserve that.  But a bird?  Really?"

"Shut up," I say, grinning.  "It was the best I could come up with on the fly."

"Seriously, though, thank you.  I know you're probably about ready to run me over with your car, but I really appreciate your help.  I hate needing it, but I appreciate having it."

"Don't be weird," I tell him, shaking my head.  "But you're welcome."

We cuddle on the couch and watch a movie before we head up to bed.  By this point, I'm itching for some alone time, so I decide to take a quick shower before I get in bed.  I stand under the hot water and sigh.  I know Alex needs me here and I'm happy to help him but it's really interfering with my need to be by myself sometimes.  This is why I'm not ready to move in.  I feel really shitty the second that thought pops into my head, but I can't help it.  I don't really understand how I can be so ready to spend the rest of my life with him, but not even close to ready to even move in with him.

I shake my head and turn off the water, drying off quickly.  When I come into the bedroom, Alex says, "You know, if you need some space at all while you're here, you're more than welcome to use the guest room."

My head snaps up and I look at him, wondering how he knew.  "What?"

"You know, if you need to sleep alone for a night, or want a quiet place to work while you're job searching," he replies.  "I know your alone time is important."

I narrow my eyes briefly, irritated for a second at his ability to read my mind.  Then I realize that he's basically just told me he's okay with my alone time and even me sleeping in another room, and I'm so grateful for the way he understands me.  "Thank you," I say, pulling on one of his t-shirts, which I've taken to sleeping in.  "I'm good for now, but I'll keep it in mind."

I grin and go back into the bathroom to hang up my towel and brush my teeth. When I come back, I climb into bed with Alex and snuggle up next to him.  "I love you," I say impulsively.

"I love you too, Laur," he replies, wrapping his good arm around me.

I reach over and turn off the light, grateful once again for how Alex understands me.


I don't even get a chance to call HR on Monday before I see my former job's number pop up on my phone.  I don't answer, because I'm worried it's Sean.  I don't want to talk to him.  My fingers shake a little as I dial my voicemail to listen to the message, and I shake my head at myself.  I'm being ridiculous.  It wasn't Sean, but Jamie from HR.  Her message says that she has some questions for me and asks me to call back.

I dial the direct number she left me.  She picks up after two rings.  "Hi, Lauren," she says after I tell her who I am.  "Thanks for calling back.  Was your new job description not what you were expecting?"

"Not what I was..." I start, confused.  "Well, no, I wasn't expecting a new job description at all, much less one that amounted to a serious demotion."

"I'm sorry?" Jamie sounds even more confused than I am.

"You guys wrote the new job description, did you not?" I ask, frustrated.  "Were you aware when you wrote it that I was hired as an engineer?"

"I think maybe there's been a misunderstanding," Jamie says slowly.  "I was under the impression that we wrote up the new job description at your request."

"At my request?" I parrot, not sure if I should be angry or really confused.

"Yes, we were told you had requested a change of job duties because your current work was getting too stressful."

"Wouldn't a request to change my entire job need to come from me?"

"It did."  Now Jamie sounds irritated.  "Sean forwarded us an email from you."

"An email?  I didn't send an email requesting a change in my job duties," I state.  "There has been a serious mistake."

"No, I have it right here," she insists.  "Let's see, it's from November 24th.  It says--"

"November 24th?" I practically shriek, realizing what's happening.  "That's the week of Thanksgiving?  I wasn't even in this state on November 24th, much less at work to send an email to my asshole boss."

Jamie is silent for several seconds, and I'm glad I already quit, otherwise I'd probably be fired at this point.  "But I have an email..." she says softly.

"I'm sure you do," I retort, "but I didn't send it.  I am telling you right now that I never requested a change in my job description or duties.  I quit because Sean took away my job and tried to turn me into his assistant."

"I'm going to have to do some looking into this," she says brusquely, finally pulling herself together.  "Can we call you back?"

"Whatever," I snap, irritated at this whole thing.  "I mean, yes.  Sure."

Jamie thanks me and we hang up, and I storm out of the guest room, which I'm using as an office of sorts at the moment.  "Do you want to know what that motherfucker did?" I screeched, pounding down the stairs and into the living room, where Alex is in his usual spot on the couch.

"What motherfucker?" he asks, looking at me with concern.

"Sean!  That asshole somehow wrote an email from me and forwarded it to HR, saying that my job was too 'stressful' and I wanted new job duties.  He told them that I wanted it!  And they bought it!  He sent it while we were in Georgia!"  I'm pacing back and forth and my voice is rising dangerously close to a yell.

"Wait, seriously?" Alex asks, looking shocked.  "He can't do that."

"You fucking think?" I cringe as soon as the words are out and say, "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean...I'm just really riled up."

"I see that," he replies.  "And I don't blame you.  I'm pretty pissed off about it myself.  So now what?"

"I don't know.  The HR person I talked to was awfully confused, said she was going to 'do some looking into it'," I inform him, rolling my eyes.

I'm too angry to sit down and comb through worthless job listings again, so I busy myself aggressively cleaning Alex's kitchen.  I'm on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor when I hear Alex walk in.  "I think it's clean now babe," he says gently.  "Though I have to admit I appreciate the view."

I sit back onto my feet and sigh.  "I'm just pissed that I probably did exactly what he wanted me to do," I say, tossing the rag I was using on the already clean floor back into the bucket.  "God, I hate cleaning."

I look back over my shoulder at Alex, who's giving me a sympathetic half smile.  "Come on, get up.  If you're going to be on your knees, I can think of something much more fun and productive for you to be doing."

His lewd joke has the intended effect and I laugh and get to my feet.  I walk over to him and let him wrap his arm around me.  "I just can't believe I fell right into his trap."

"Lauren, what he did was illegal.  You did what any reasonable--"  We both freeze when my phone rings.

It's my former job's number again, but this time I answer.  "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Lauren?"  It's not Jamie.  It's someone else.  I can't place the voice.

"Yes, it is," I reply shortly.

"Lauren, my name is Sandra, and I'm the head of HR.  It seems that there's been a serious mistake."

"That's what I said."

"Right. So, I apologize on behalf of the company.  Your job--your original job--is available to you whenever you'd like to start it again."

"I'm sorry?" I ask, baffled.  "Do you seriously think I want to come back there after this?  And anyway, I have questions.  How did he do it?  Was he on my computer?  I thought things looked out of place on my desk when I got back."

Sandra pauses, and I wonder if this is going at all how she expected.  "I can assure you that those involved are being dealt with and that this won't happen again," she tells me calmly.  "Now, if you'd like your job back, I'm prepared to offer you a 3% raise with it, along with all your old duties, including field work."

"A 3 percent raise?  For being forced to resign over a fraudulent email?"

"I think that's a little extreme--" Sandra starts.

"I don't," I interrupt.  Alex puts a hand on my arm but I shake it off.  "I don't want my job back.  I will never work for this company again.  In fact, I'm considering suing."

That shuts Sandra up really fast.


Monday, January 11, 2016

Kinsley: Snowball Fight

We didn't ski on Christmas.  We considered it, but we were both feeling a little lazy (and I was awfully sore).  Instead, we played outside in the snow, complete with snow angels, a snowball fight and a snowman.

I started the snowball fight by shoving a handful of snow down the back of Damien's coat.  I'd never heard him yelp like a girl before, but he certainly did it then.  By the time he recovered enough to grab some snow, I'd taken off, and his snowball whizzed past my elbow.  "You'll have to do better than that!" I called, turning just in time to dodge a snowball headed directly towards my head.

He ran after me as I scooped up a handful of snow and sent it flying back towards him.  It hit him in the leg, which is a worthless place for a snowball to land but better than he'd done yet.  I turned and ran again, skidding around the corner of the house.  I ran awkwardly, because have you ever tried to run in two feet of snow?  It doesn't work very well.

I was bending down to make a snowball around the corner of the house when Damien suddenly grabbed me from behind and flipped me upside down so I was dangling with my face just inches from the snow.  "Give me one good reason I shouldn't give you a face full of snow," he threatened, laughing.

I was laughing too hard to give him any reason at all, much less a good one.  "Nothing?" he asked, dipping me a little lower.  "That pretty face of yours is about to get awfully cold."

"Is 'because I'm pretty' a good reason?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"Hmmm," he pretended to consider, lowing me a little then pulling me back up a bit.  "No.  But I'll give you another chance."

"I can't think when I'm upside down above 2 feet of snow!" I protested.

"That sounds like your problem, not mine," Damien teased.

"Well," I said, "If you put me down, I'll make it worth your while."

"How?" he asked.

"Oh, I think you can probably figure that out."

Apparently, it was tempting enough, because he let me down without dunking my head in the snow.  I scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at him before taking off.  He caught up to me within seconds and tackled me into the deep snow, and we wrestled in the snow until I admitted defeat.


"I feel like a kid," I said, laughing as we came inside and stomped the snow off our boots.

"So do I," Damien agreed.  "I haven't played in the snow in ages.  It was fun."  He grabbed me by the waist and kissed the tip of my cold nose.  "Your nose is pink."

"Your whole face is," I replied, grinning at him.  He laughed and drew me closer, lowering his lips to mine.  His lips, somehow, were warm against mine, and I sighed into our kiss and leaned into him.  We were both still covered in snow and wearing far too much clothing for inside, but it didn't matter.  "I love you," I said as we pulled away from each other to pull off our outerwear.  "I know I keep saying it, but this has been the best Christmas.  Thank you for spending it here with me."

"Look at you and your feelings," he teased me gently as he pulled his gloves off.  "I love you too, and I agree.  This has been really great.  I thought I might miss seeing the kids open their gifts but it's been kind of nice to just relax and not have to listen to squealing and shrieking."

"I can squeal and shriek if you want to," I said, grinning.  "You know, just to really give you that true Christmas experience."

He grinned mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows at me.  "I'll give you a Christmas experience that will make you squeal and shriek," he threatened.

I threw my glove at him, and he caught it easily.  "You're a perv," I said, shaking my head.

"You don't seem to mind," he countered, tossing the glove back to me.

"That's because I don't," I answered, rolling my eyes.  I tugged off my coat and hung it up, then wandered towards the kitchen.  Damien followed me in, then opened a cabinet and pulled out a container of hot chocolate.  "This weekend keeps getting better and better!" I exclaimed, grabbing it from him.

We made hot chocolate and started working on dinner.  I'd wanted ham, but apparently Damien isn't a fan (this is probably the only thing he won't eat), so we settled on roasting a chicken instead.  I got the chicken prepped and in the oven, then we took our hot chocolate into the living room.

We spent the rest of the day being lazy, making dinner together, and then having sex.  Again.  Though I definitely had no complaints.

We skied again all day Saturday, then did a few quick runs on Sunday morning before we left.   At my suggestion, Damien had called his mom on Saturday to see if she wanted company for Sunday dinner, which she was thrilled about.  I kind of just wanted to go home and relax in my tub with a glass of wine, but I figured the least I could do was have dinner with Damien's family after he spent the whole holiday weekend with me.  I could tell he was happy that I suggested it, so I was glad to do it.

Claire greeted us excitedly at the door.  "Come in," she said happily.  "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Claire," I replied, hugging her.  "Thanks for letting me steal your son for the weekend."

"Oh sweetheart, we missed you both, but you can steal him any time you'd like."  She glanced at him, then in an exaggerated whisper said, "I think he likes you better than us and I think it's wonderful."

"Mom," Damien said, rolling his eyes.  I laughed and Claire winked at me.

We had planned a family "Christmas" with them for the next weekend, but it hadn't stopped Claire from making a huge ham dinner with all the trimmings.  "And I made a pork chop for you," she said to Damien.  He grinned.  I was just excited to get my ham.

"I don't get why you like pork chops but not ham," I said, shaking my head.

He gave me a weird look.  "They don't taste the same at all.  They don't even look the same!  It's not like the difference between white meat chicken and dark meat.  Or a ribeye and a New York strip."

I shrugged and was about to respond when the door opened again.  "No!" came a tiny (but loud) voice.  "Uncle Damien's truck is out there.  Uncle Damien???"

"We're here, Amelia," Damien called back.

"Kinsley?" Amelia shrieked, flying around the corner and skidding to a stop in the kitchen.  She composed herself enough to walk over and fling her arms around my legs.

"Hi Amelia!" I greeted her, bending down to actually hug her.

She pulled back and looked at me with her wide eyes.  "Kinsley?  Did Santa come see you at the house in Crested Butte?  He knows where it is. He's come to see us there before."

I laughed.  "He sure did.  Did he come see you?"

She nodded, eyes still wide.  "Did he ever!" she declared, which made me laugh.  Then, just as quickly as she'd flown into the kitchen, she scrambled back out, yelling for her mom.  Luke gave her a dirty look as she scooted past him, then shook his head and rolled his eyes in a very well-practiced big brother way.

Dinner was--of course--wonderful, and we left fairly early because we were both tired.  Damien dropped me off at home and helped me bring my stuff in before he headed home for the night.  

I slept so well Sunday night that I was not even close to prepared for my alarm on Monday morning.  I almost always woke up just a little before my alarm went off, but I was sound asleep still this time.  It took me a few minutes to convince myself to get out of bed.  Once I was up, though, I was fine.

Work seemed to go pretty fast, and afterwards I met Liv and Lauren for drinks and dinner.  Kendra was supposed to come too, but she wasn't feeling well and bailed.  We got an update on Alex first, and Lauren reported that he was doing pretty well, though he was feeling a bit cooped up and was frustrated with that.

I told them about my awesome Christmas with Damien.  "It was seriously so good," I said excitedly.  "I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a holiday.  This was so much better than any holiday I ever spent with my parents."

"Were your parents upset you were gone?" Liv asked.

I snorted.  "I wasn't invited to either of their Christmases, so probably not."

"So when are you guys getting married?" Lauren asked nonchalantly.

"Sometime after we're engaged, I would imagine," I replied sarcastically.

She raised an eyebrow.  "Have you even talked about it?"

I shook my head.  "No."

Now she frowned a little.  "Don't you think that's weird?"

"No...should I?" I asked, starting to get a little irritated.

"It's been, what?  Almost a year and a half, right?  He's not getting any younger."

"Lauren!" Liv said.

"What?" she asked.  Liv just gave her a dirty look.

"Neither of us are, obviously," I replied.  "But we're both happy with the way things are.  He's probably waiting for me to bring it up, and I'm just not there yet.  But I can see myself marrying him at some point."

"Kinsley?  Getting married?  I don't believe that," came a familiar, sarcastic male voice.

My breath caught for a second as my brain processed who the voice belonged to.  I looked up, straight into Cole's eyes.