Chapter One-The Breakup

Carolyn stepped out of the sable heels as she turned the key in the door. The cool hardwood felt refreshing on her tired feet as she shuffled into the apartment. Placing her work carefully on the roll top desk, she turned the cell phone off before plugging it into the charger. Only after setting the teapot to boil did she collapse on the love seat to examine the day’s lack of important mail. No news is good news she thought as she rose to the summoning teakettle. Dropping the mail into the trashcan she watched the teabag bloat as the hot water diffused into its tiny pores and the aroma of mangos permeated her nose. Leaving the tea to steep, Carolyn shuffled to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothing for the evening’s work. She settled onto the bedroom’s plush crimson carpet and opened the cabinet to find appropriate music for the long evening ahead. Deciding on Sinatra, she returned to the kitchen for her tea and the night’s reading material. Stopping briefly in the bedroom, she turned the stereo up slightly.
“I get a kick, yes, I get a kick, yes. I get a kick out of yooooooouuuu!” her accompaniment was slightly off tune as she slid the balcony door open. “Alright Frankie, lets get to work.” She settled into the wooden chair and settled her tea carefully on the iron table beside her. 
As Sinatra serenaded the setting sun, Carolyn critiqued over a hundred pages of the novel. She finally felt as though she was making progress; Carlton Majors, her newest client, took criticism well. Unlike many of her other acquisitions, he could take minimal comments and completely rework the manuscript with amazing results. Dazzled with the rewrite of the novel’s first fight scene, Carolyn did not notice the meager patio light or the steps on the stairs leading to her apartment. She did not hear the knock at the door, nor did she hear the key turning in the lock. The muted sound of rubber soled shoes on her hardwood floors failed to alert her to his presence. She read as a set of keys dropped onto her prized Chippendale coffee table—the first antique she had splurged upon. Not until Sinatra suddenly stopped singing in the middle of a line did she realize anything was happening. Looking up from the manuscript she waited a moment to make sure time had not merely escaped her. A moment later, Daniel stood in the doorway attempting to hide his annoyance.
“How is it that you can forget we have plans? It’s Thursday. We’ve had a routine for six months now and over the past few weeks you seem to have decided that a routine can simply be altered whenever you get a whim to not attend an important function.”
“Daniel, I hardly find dinner at Fernando’s an important function.” She settled the pen into the manuscript and closed the binder.
“Carolyn, honey, Thursday night dinner at Fernando’s is an important event because everybody important in local politics shows up.”
“I’ve never really understood that. Everybody shows up excessively late, pretends to enjoy a meal that can barely be stomached when nauseous from hunger, sits at a table with their date and pretends to ignore everybody else for two hours. It’s not exactly a social occasion.”
“Regardless of your contemptuous critique, attendance is still mandatory for anybody wanting to make it in Sandy Ridge politics. Besides, nine thirty is not too late for dinner. Come on, cupcake, get dressed.”
“Daniel, I’ve got to finish the critique on this novel tonight. Tomorrow and Monday are both packed with preparation for the launch on Tuesday. Just this once, can we please skip Fernando’s?”
“Carolyn! You can’t think such a thing. It’s Thursday”
“We’ve covered that, Daniel. If it’s that important, why don’t you just go alone. It’s not like anybody will miss me.”
“I can’t go to Fernando’s alone. Are you out of your mind? The foundation to my political career cannot begin with gossip. Do you know what people will think?”
“That I have a career? That perhaps my agenda didn’t have room for dinner tonight? If you’d like, I can get somebody at work to write me an excuse.”
“Carolyn, my political future—and your entire future—depend on us showing up tonight. I have to make certain that nothing happens to jeopardize my judicial nomination. I can’t risk somebody stealing my chance.”
“Fine, Daniel.” She gathered the manuscript and stepped past him into the bedroom. “Give me just a minute to change and we can be on our way. All I ask is that we not spend half the night there. I really have a lot to do before work tomorrow.”
“Relax, cupcake, you have all night.” Daniel scrutinized the outfit she pulled from the closet. “Wear the black skirt. It’s more appropriate for Fernando’s.”
Carolyn rolled her eyes as she switched skirts. There was no need for a fight; it would just delay the return to the manuscript. Stepping into the bathroom, she quickly changed clothes, dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrists and knees. In the bedroom, she tossed her lounging clothes on the bed and pulled the heels she wore to work off the shoetree.
“Unbutton those first two buttons, cupcake. You don’t need to look like an old school marm.” Daniel stepped into the living room.
“School marms don’t wear yellow, Daniel. It’s all earth tones.” Carolyn unbuttoned the first button, still trying to appease him and get the night over with. She grimaced as she heard the sound of his keys scraping across her coffee table. She decided that, like his refusal to remove his shoes in her apartment, it was a losing battle. She should just get a cover for the coffee table to prevent him further scratching its near pristine surface.

The sounds of Beethoven drifted softly through the restaurant as Carolyn and Daniel were shown to a small table in the back dining room. Daniel assured that the political figures populating the room noticed him without making eye contact with anybody. Carolyn attempted to make herself comfortable in the stiff leather chair and opened the menu she knew she could not read in the dim light. There was no need; she only had one option when eating with Daniel. Only moments after they settled Ramone approached the table and filled their water glasses.
“Your usual, Mr. Brantlee?” his voice was hushed.
“Please, Ramone.”
“I really don’t want any wine tonight, Daniel. You know it makes me sleepy and I still have work to do.”
“Relax, cupcake. You’ll be fine. Just a glass or two.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I want to make tonight special.”
“You’re not staying over tonight. I’ve told you, I have work to do.”
“You can’t reject me before the appetizer, cupcake. Besides, I have a feeling that before this dinner is over, you’ll change your mind.”
Ramone’s return prevented Carolyn from responding. She watched with loathing as he poured the wine into their glasses.
“We’ll have the caviar and calamari appetizer, Ramone. Carolyn will have the Chicken Parmigiano.
“Very well, sir. And for you, sir?”
“How’s the lamb tonight?”
“Extremely tender, sir. I highly recommend the Abbacchio al Forno.”
“Wonderful, Ramone.”
Ramone excused himself and Daniel turned his attention back to Carolyn. 
“Cupcake, I almost forgot. Clear your calendar for Tuesday night. We’re having dinner with Shawn Morgan and his mother.”
“Daniel! You know I can’t clear my calendar for Tuesday. Can’t you move it to later in the week?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Of course you can clear your calendar. What is there of importance that you can’t postpone?” the irritation in his voice made Carolyn bristle.
“Daniel, the launch is Tuesday.”
“Well, you either need to postpone it or let somebody else handle it for you this time. Dinner is on Tuesday.”
“I can’t just let somebody lese handle it. Garvin is my client.”
“He’s a senile old man who writes about flies. There is no way you can convince me his book is more important than dinner with the Morgans.” The growl in Daniel’s voice subsided as Ramone settled the calamari and caviar between them.
“Garvin writes about a fly fishing detective, but that’s not the point. You need to understand that I am an autonomous person, Daniel. Garvin is my career just like Shawn Morgan is yours. I can’t just leave him in the hands of somebody else. Would you trust somebody else to Shawn’s defense?” she pushed aside the appetizer plate Daniel had filled for her.
“I would never turn Shawn over to another defense attorney. I shouldn’t expect you to understand, you’re just an editor. Being a lawyer…”
“Just an editor!” Carolyn choked on her water. “I am just an editor in the same capacity that you are just a lawyer.”
“There’s a difference, cupcake. Being a lawyer takes finesse.” He lowered his voice again and growled, “Now, keep your voice down. People are listening.”
“Occasionally, I wish you could stop focusing on your career and your reputation and see what I want and what I need. I’ve spent the last six months catering to your needs and desires and whims and now I need you to understand the importance of the launch…”
“Keep your voice down, Carolyn. Do you know what people will say if they think I can’t keep my fiancée in line on a Thursday night. That alone could be detrimental to my nomination.”
“I am not your fiancée, so that should cut down on the talk. Dammit, Daniel…”
“I said lower your voice.” He scolded again. “Have you forgotten who I am?” Daniel glanced around, realizing the entire room was hanging on their every whisper.
“No. You are Daniel Brantlee the third.  I, on the other hand am not your fiancée no matter what you keep telling people. I’m not even certain I want to be your girlfriend anymore.” Wine sloshed from the glass as she bolted from the table and breezed past Ramone who stood near the table dumbfounded and curious. 
“Can you please call me a cab, Sam.” Carolyn smiled at the maitre’d.
“Ms. Dukes, please feel free to use the courtesy car.” Sam took her arm and guided her towards the door. “We keep a driver and car on hand for those who have too much to drink. In this situation, I think we can make an exception.”
“Thank you, Sam.” Carolyn said as he opened the door of the black sedan for her.
“That’s what I’m here for, Ms. Dukes. Enjoy your evening.”
Carolyn gave the driver the address to the apartment and then closed her eyes. It’s finally over. I expected it to be much harder.

Half an hour later, Carolyn settled once more onto the balcony with a cup of hot tea and Carlton Majors’ manuscript. She could not focus on the breakup right now; she needed to finish the comments to this manuscript so she could turn her attention to the launch on Tuesday. Once again, Sinatra crooned from the bedroom a bit softer than this afternoon. She read another fifteen pages before she heard the pounding on her door.
The music isn’t that loud. She stood up and trotted towards the front door as the pounding resounded again. Besides, it’s still early. It’s not even eleven o’clock! Manuscript in hand she flung the front door open.
“Daniel, I don’t…”
“How dare you embarrass me like that!” he pushed his way past her into the apartment.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan it. But…”
“No buts. You had no right to…”
“I have every right to do whatever I want! Now get out!”
“I am not leaving. We’re going to resolve this tonight.”
“No, Daniel. We’re not resolving the issue; it’s already resolved. I’m not going to dinner with you Tuesday night. If you have a problem with that then you can consider the relationship over.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not as concerned about that damn dinner as I am about what you did tonight. If you would just rearrange your schedule slightly…”
“Slightly? Daniel that launch date was set over six weeks ago. I can’t just shift things around on your whims.”
“It’s not exactly a whim, Carolyn. This is the trail that determines my political future. What you did tonight, though…”
“You arrogant—“

“—self involved prick” the words floated in through the air vent  “Oh, you tell him, honey!” James turned the television off, opened the patio door and wheeled himself outside. “Don’t mind me eavesdropping, I have justification. I was a cop before I chose art as my career.”
“—when you marry me…” the man’s voice came stronger through the brisk night breeze. James could hear the man stomping through the apartment towards the balcony. “—back here!”
“James! Where are you?”
“On the patio. Come on. It’s a beautiful night.”
“—LISTEN TO ME!” he was shouting now.
“—No! You listen for a minute. I have a career. I thought I made that clear earlier…”
“Are you eavesdropping?” Nat stepped out onto the patio.
“Oh honey, I’m crushed! How could you possibly think I’m eavesdropping. I just wanted to make sure it didn’t escalate into a made-for-tv-drama.”
“Is that the…”
“Frumpy redhead from upstairs? Yeah.”
“James. She’s not frumpy.”
“Oh honey, you’re so sweet. If you had a sense of fashion, you would understand. You’re just lucky that uniform blues look good on you.” He openly checked out his roommate.
“Stop that. I’m still adjusting to the new you. Checking me out doesn’t really help.”
“Sorry, honey. So, what was your adjective of choice for our frumpy redhead?”
“I was thinking…demure.”
“Well not tonight. She’s already called him an arrogant self involved asshole and I don’t see the language getting demure and G rated in the next little while. I just hope I don’t have to listen to them having make-up sex. Yick.”
“Well, it sounds like they’re just arguing. I’m going to change.” Nat stepped inside the door. “Want to have a beer with me before bed?”
“I’d love…”
“—Daniel! No!”
The sound that followed sent Nat running. He had heard the sound too often as he reached domestic disturbance calls; most likely, he had hit her, she had hit the wall and there were many scenarios that could follow. Nat didn’t want to see any of them play out.  He didn’t even know the demure redhead’s name. He took the stairs two at a time, found the door upstairs ajar and stepped into the apartment. A broken flowerpot lay on the floor beside the roll top desk. The man had pinned the woman to the wall, his hand clutching her wrist in an attempt to wrestle the cell phone from her.
“Sandy Ridge Police. Stop right there, sir!”
“Get out! This is a private discussion.” Daniel bellowed
Nat waited for the moment when the man let his guard down; he would not risk hurting his demure redhead. “Sir! Let go of her arm and take a step back!” 
“I think I told you to leave, officer. She just has a bad case of PMS. Now leave!” he glared over his shoulder and Nat took his chance. Lunging forward, he grasped the weak man and shoved him towards the sofa.
“Are you okay, ma’am? Did he hurt you?”
“I just want him out of my life. I don’t ever want to see him again.” She was on the verge of tears. He sensed Daniel’s approach and thrust an arm out to prevent him getting near the frightened woman. Instinct drove his other hand to his side arm. He would not lay a hand on her.
“Carolyn, we are not ending this relationship after all I’ve invested in it.”
“Sir, I believe your wife…”
“I am NOT his wife!” her voice was hoarse from screaming.
“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. Sir, I believe she asked you to leave.”
Daniel scoffed. “Do you even know who I am? He was on his tiptoes barely bringing his face to Nat’s shoulder.
“No, sir. I don’t know who you are. But I’m not here to make friends; I’m here to make sure that you don’t hurt her anymore.” Once more he turned to the demure redhead. “Ma’am do you want to press charges?”
“I can have your badge!” Daniel bellowed
“Ma’am do you want to press charges?”
“No. I just…”
“Cupcake, just tell him everything is fine.”
“Just get out.” Her voice was laden with fear
Daniel lurched forward, grasping her arm again. “Car—”
Grabbing Daniel’s collar, Nat turned him around and lifted him several inches off the ground to look him in the eyes. He wanted to get his point across. “You are not going to lay another hand on her. If you try that again, I will arrest you. Do you understand me?” He released his grip long enough for the frightened man to nod. “Now, do you live here, sir?”
“Yes.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“But she’s my girlfriend and I—”
“Is his name on the lease, ma’am?” He tightened his grip on the man’s collar.
“No. Just mine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”
“I’m sure. I just want him gone.”
Nat let go of the man and pulled himself to his full height. Towering over Daniel, he ordered him from the apartment. “Now, find your way out the door or I will arrange for you to spend an evening in jail for trespassing.”
Daniel drug his keys across the coffee table, trying to get a rise from Carolyn. When she did not respond, he stormed out the door, muttering under his breath.
She crossed the room and collapsed on the sofa, her eyes coming to rest on Nat’s sidearm. Realizing the threat was gone, Nat released the grip on his sidearm, snapping the holster. When she raised her eyes to his, he could still see the fear. His time on the force had taught him this was the appropriate moment to explain restraining orders, yet he could not find the words. The only solution his mind could converge upon was to hold her. Common sense told him that was wrong, but his mind persisted. He kneeled before her, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“Are you going to be alright, ma’am? I can call somebody for you. He forced the last words, ensuring he did not offer his own company. It was not ethical.
“I’ll be fine. Really. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for ma’am. I was just doing my job.”
“How…how did you know? I didn’t actually have a chance to call.”
“I’m actually the courtesy officer for the complex. I’d just gotten off work when I heard the crash.” The image of her pinned to the wall, helpless, flashed through his mind again. His stomach knotted violently. “How’s your wrist?”
“Sore.” She held her right hand out towards him, already swollen and a painful shade of purple. He took it gingerly into the palm of his hand like a wounded bird’s wing. Her skin felt as though it had just been submerged in a pot of boiling water.
“Does this hurt?” She winced as he tenderly squeezed her wrist, feeling for broken bones. The sight of pain on her face made his stomach knot again, inexplicably. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not broken, but I would recommend that you wrap it up. Keeping it immobile for a day or two will help with the swelling.”
“Thanks.” Her green eyes glistened with sincerity.
“I have bandages downstairs. If you want me to wrap your wrist up it wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t mind.” He had not sounded this unconfident since he was nine.
She nodded. He took her left hand and helped her off the sofa. Neither spoke as they walked downstairs to his apartment. Opening the door for her, Nat gestured to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable; I’ll be right back.”
Carolyn settled onto the lime green sofa and stared nervously around the room. The walls, covered in maroon velvet contrasted with the glassy black tile. Sheer curtains hung over the window that overlooked the parking lot. I wonder how many times he’s seen me pass by his window. He lives right below me and I’ve never spoken to him. He lives right below me. He must have heard us. He must have seen Daniel leaving in the morning. Humiliation overwhelmed Carolyn but was instantly washed away by the paralyzing fear the next thoughts brought.
“Here we go. Just hold your hand out and I’ll have you ready in no time.”
Her mind could not process his words. He knelt in front of her, and his mouth moved, but there was nothing recognizable entering her brain.
“Are you okay?”
“Key.”
“They’re still in your hand.” Nat glanced over to see her clutching desperately at the keys in her left hand. “Just let go and…”
“Key. He…key.” Complete sentences became an obstacle.
“He? Key? You’re not making sense. What about a he key? Oh! He has a key?”
He could see the fear building again in her eyes. “You can stay here.”
“I can’t.” the paralyzing fear disappeared as she turned down the offer. “I mean, I appreciate it, but I don’t even know your name.”
“Nat. My name is Nat Adams. And I understand your hesitation. It wasn’t the best idea I’ve had tonight. Why don’t I give you my cell phone number? Then, if he comes back, all you have to do is call.” The gratitude in her eyes said it all. He disappeared again and returned with a Sandy Ridge Police Department business card. “All of my contact information is here. You can get a hold of me any time you need. Now, about that wrist.”
She placed her wrist again in his hand and he felt the heat radiating again from her skin. Treating her arm as if it were as delicate as porcelain, Nat wrapped the bandage securely around her wrist. “It’s not too tight, is it?”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks.” She stood up and Nat walked her to the door.
“Make sure you put my cell number in your phone. Keep your phone by your bed in case you need it.” He opened the door for her, and then walked her back to her apartment. “Make sure all your doors and windows are locked before you go to bed.”
“I will. Thanks, Nat. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
He waited until he heard the deadbolt lock and walked back to the stairs. He waited another forty minutes to leave, ensuring all the lights in the apartment were off so he would know she was in bed. Resisting the urge to kiss her had proven inexplicably difficult.