Last Updated: 3/27/2024 additional chapter.

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March 21st, 8:58 a.m.
My phone vibrating on the nightstand prompted an annoyed rollover to grab it, to see who was calling me so early, and finally answering it on the third ring when I saw who it was.

I croaked out a strained, "Mmellho..."

"Liz?"

"Hey," I said with a little more effort and clarity.

My mouth was bone dry, and my tongue felt like wet used sandpaper caked in sawdust. What time was it anyway? I looked at my alarm clocks blazing digits - 8:59…

"Crap, did I wake you? I'm really sorry."

I huffed a little too loudly, "Long night. What's up?"

I could have used a few more hours of sleep. No sooner had I finally fallen asleep, after my 2 AM visitor, than a car alarm started going off in the parking lot. I think that was probably about 4:30 AM. Then, at around 6 AM, someone taking their trash out let the dumpster lid clang shut, and in a panic, I grabbed the bat laying next to me, thinking someone had knocked something over in my living room.

I felt like the world knew I was frayed at the seams and intent on making me pay a toll for my past sins.

"I... I was wondering if you wanted to do something today; maybe get lunch and talk," he asked meekly.

Damn it – drop the attitude! I wasn't purposely trying to be a bitch to Paul, and I needed to absolutely get my shit together quickly about how I wanted to navigate his telling Jacob more than necessary about my compromising past. I’d thought about it enough last night, what did I want to say to him?

"Hey... I, Whew... Crazy night. Some idiot was trying to kick my door in this morning around 2. He was certain 'Heather' was in here with some guy."

"What?! Someone tried to kick your door in," Paul asked, concerned.

"He didn't make it in; he just pounded, yelled a lot, and looked to have kicked it twice. My neighbor stuck her head out into the hallway and scared him off. I was on the phone with 911, and the police got here quick. They didn't find him unfortunately."

I laid back down, put the phone on speaker, and set it on the pillow next to me.

"That must have been scary!"

"Just a little," I said, looking at the ceiling, then towards the window, where I could see the sun peeking through the sides of the curtains. I wondered if it's nice out.

"Has anything like that ever happened before?"

That was a question I didn't want to share details about, at least not with him. The easy answer was 'No, not while living here.' and was the truth, which was my eventual reply to Paul.

The real answer was that I'd had several past incidents of shit like this happening when I was posting content online. There were assholes I’d be fooled into thinking they wanted a relationship, but were just chasing their fetish, which was me. One of those instances ended with some guy raping me, but not before slapping me around first when I told him to leave and began to protest his groping me.

He wouldn't take 'Not interested!' for an answer when I turned down his advances. He told me after he was finished that I had 'asked for it'. And his last words to me as he wiped his cock off my face before getting dressed and leaving were, 'Say anything, and I'll fucking kill you...'

Yeah, not sharing that bit of my past with you.

“I feel bad... If I hadn't said anything to Jac…"

I stopped him midsentence, "I'm fine, Paul... I probably would have had to cross that bridge with Jacob or someone in management at the firm at some point anyway. It was bound to come out sooner or later. And last night was just some drunken idiot looking for his girlfriend, wife, or whatever. I hope she's alright and he slept it off somewhere."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have said anything or maybe have bent the truth," he complained.

"Look, I'm not happy about that, and I wish my past wasn't what it was, but going forward, anything between us or in my past stays between us and in the past, okay? I'm not that person anymore. I can't keep telling you that..."

Did he understand the depths of my scars from my past mistakes? That posting shit was the lowest I thought I could possibly get, until I had been raped. I’d hit bottom hard after that, and it made me take a serious look at what the fuck I was doing by pimping myself out. If none of it had been recorded or hadn't been posted online, maybe my life would have...

"I know who you are, Liz... I get it, and I'm so sorry. I screwed up and I hope you know I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I hope you can still trust me. I care and I, I care about you. I am really sorry.”

He'd rambled a bit, but there was sincerity in all that he was saying. I could feel the desperation in his voice as he apologized again today, as he had last night before I got in the Uber. I was disappointed he'd said anything to Jacob, but it was spilled milk, and I'd pretty much moved on. There were other jobs out there for paralegals like me, so if it came to that, well, I'd deal with it and make a fresh start at a different firm. One thing is certain: I was going to keep on this track and not screw up my life like that ever again.

Had I leveled my expectations with Paul in regards to whatever this relationship between us was becoming? I hoped so. I wasn't going to say, 'That's your final warning buddy...', but I also wasn't going to let a man abuse me ever again, including one I may have developed some deep feelings for and...

"Liz?"

"Yeah... I was just looking at the clock and thinking I needed to get up, get a run in to decompress, and get ready for some handsome guy to come over and take me out to lunch. That was the offer, wasn't it?" I asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood between us and block out those past memories that only made me hate myself.

"Well, I don't know what handsome guy you're talking about, but I'd be happy to stand in for him."

"How about noon… Are you going to pick me up, or do I need to hop a bus to some restaurant?" I knew the answer, but I was feeling sassy.

"Oh, a little sass, huh? I like it, and I deserve that. I think I can manage coming aaall that way... See you at noon."

Damn his mind-reading abilities! I smiled at the phone on the pillow next to me.

"Yes, you will. Bye handsome..."

I picked up my phone and was about to press the button to hang up when I heard him whisper, "Thank you."

The line went dead before I could reply. As I replayed our conversation, it occurred to me that he wasn't feeling too confident that we were okay. Maybe we could come to a better understanding of where we ultimately wanted this relationship to go at some point today.

I rolled out of bed, tired, but maybe a little energized. Time to get a couple miles in...

March 21st, 12:24 PM
I extended my run by a mile and a half, but only because I'd noticed an older red Acura following me—maybe. The guy, who I got a good look at the second time he passed by me, was a young Hispanic male. The description of the guy trying to kick my door in this morning was a white guy, six to six-one in height, and two hundred plus pounds. Mr. Red Acura wasn’t a match by any stretch, but I was on edge and maybe just being paranoid. I finished my run after about the seven-mile mark, the last couple miles without any red Acura's reappearing.

Paul was four minutes early, and judging by the greeting I'd gotten at the door - the flowers, the hug, and the kiss I'm sure we both enjoyed it - I got the message loud and clear that he was happy I'd agreed to meet him for lunch after our falling out last night. It was only the second time I'd ever gotten flowers from a man, and his giving them to me choked me up a little.

As we were leaving to go get lunch, he stopped to examine the footprints left on my door. I watched him run his hand over one of them. He noted there was a small impression left at the heel from one of the kicks in the metal door. I hadn't noticed that, but it made sense given how loud the guys' kicks were and how they sounded—even while locked in my bathroom.

Now at Famous Dave's BBQ in Tukwila, having just finished ordering, he was saying something about his parents. Wait, what?

"You told your parents about me," I asked, a little surprised. I tried to rewind what he'd just been saying about them—something about cooking his Nana's lasagna and maybe telling them he was cooking to impress someone. I think that's what he'd said. I needed to pay better attention!

"Well, I'd asked for the recipe; I didn't have it," he said, taking a pull from his bottle of Coor's.

"And that led to me, how?" I raised an eye brow but was smiling because I was teasing him that there might be someone special he was cooking for.

"You don't think my mom was curious? I was asking for a cherished family recipe. She knew why, and I got grilled! No, cross-examined!"

He chuckled, and it wasn't strained at all. He'd relaxed a bit since the call this morning and was pretty much back to being that confident guy I was attracted too. I felt like we were about to get back to our normal operating mode with one another, which made me feel better that he felt better or less stressed or wasn’t going to dwell on last night.

"Okay, but let's take the dissemination of information slowly. You think your parents are going to like me," I asked leaning in to suck some sweet tea from the straw in the glass before me.

"I think they'll love you, Liz. I love," he stopped speaking, catching himself before blurting out any more of that train of thought.

I sat back slowly and just stared at him, one brow raised. What did you just about say?!

"You love what Paul," I challenge softly.

"I... you know, like lasagna, and a... long walks on the beach," he offered quickly, trying to smile, but looking uncomfortable.

He was obviously embarrassed. That slip was unexpected, but I felt good that he had maybe slipped a little and that it was done organically, without any pressure or expectation.

He was cute, and I reached across the table, squeezed his hand, and said, "I love lasagna too... Left-over’s might make for a nice dinner."

"You're on!"

"Good... So, let's talk about Tim," I said, all cheery to steer the conversation elsewhere. If we were on for dinner later, we could talk about 'us' then in greater depth.

He looked confused by the redirect, "FBI Tim?"

"Yes. You talked to him recently," I asked.

"Ah, not since last Tuesday," he said, questioning himself. "Yeah, Tuesday. What's up with Tim?"

"I got the impression that everything we've thrown at Jacob still has no legal leg to stand on."

He nodded. "That's how he explained it to me after I told him about the Norton email and the check Janet ran on you."

"So... I think she's dirty, and I called her on it."

"You did what?!"

"I called her last night and told her I suspected her fingerprints were all over Amber's abduction... Not in so many words, but I wanted to hear her squirm."

He looked to still be processing what I had said and shook his head as if worried about something.

"Liz... Let's say she was involved, and... Well, I feel like maybe she is, but reaching out to her? That probably wasn't a good idea."

"I didn't tell her anything she didn't already know. She knows she's being investigated for the ethics hearing. I just asked about Norton and her having me checked out. Why she did it."

"Yeah, and you just asked me about Tim. You told her we turned over this information to the FBI, didn't you, as a bluff to rattle her?" he asked, more concerned now, and his face showed it.

I felt a little embarrassed and could only nod that I had.

"And you don't think some random guy showing up at your door last night wasn't put into motion because of that threat?"

No... That's not possible, is it?

March 21st, 12:31 PM
"Liz...," he began, "I would bet that guy at your door wasn't some random shithead."

"No. That, no...," I tried to reason, shaking my head slowly.

"Really? You level a threat at Janet, and randomly, some guy is at your door trying to kick it in a few hours later. That's no coincidence. Shit, none of the stuff we've found on her possible involvement is without suspicion; I don't care what Jacob says about the legal side of it. She's involved and dirty. Liz, seriously, I think you should stay with me tonight," he said forcefully, and now sounding very worried.

My head was beginning to spin, and I needed a moment of calm to put the pieces in place. I wanted to study what I knew, but I couldn't... I felt chilled and placed both hands on the table to steady myself. The red Acura? Twice while running?

Fuck! Not now... I felt less steady and I grabbed for my purse, fumbled to get it open, fought the pill bottle, and eventually removed a single .25mg Xanax. I tossed the foul-tasting pill in my mouth and got it under my tongue to get the effects of the drug into my system quicker.

"Are you okay?" Paul asked, sounding even more worried. I watched him stand and come to my side.

I nodded, 'No' through a haze I felt blanketing me and a blackening of my peripheral vision.

"Alright, I got you..."

I felt his hands on my shoulder, and he was speaking to someone about getting our order 'To Go’, and he'd be right back. You're leaving me?! I turned to look at him, panicked.

"I'll put you in my car and come back and deal with the food," he said softly. "It’s going to be okay, come on… Slow, I got you."

I felt my body moving and was standing and walking with him. I couldn't breathe. Air?! Breathe... And I blinked a few times, and then we were outside of the restaurant and at his passenger car door. I was seated and the door shut with a thud; my purse was on my lap; my hands had been placed one over the other on top of my purse; and he'd said he would be right back sounding very far way.

When I saw him opening the door to the restaurant, I opened the door and felt a cool gush of wind brush over me. Breathe. I closed my eyes praying I wouldn’t throw up.

"Liz? Liz..."

I felt my shoulder move, and my eyes popped open, trying to find the voice that was speaking to me. I had to look down as Paul was squatting in the open door next to me. He looked worried. Fuck!

"You good?"

"I'm so sorry," I got out just before losing my shit and beginning to cry.

"Whoa!" I felt his arms wrap around me. "Easy... You're safe, all good. I got you."

My body rocked uncontrollably, sobs rolling on like crashing waves, as he just held me.

What have I done?

March 21st, 4:11 PM
We'd made our way back to my place, and half way there, I'd finally gotten this panic attack under control. I contemplated taking another Xanax but held off because I was feeding off of Paul's calm and him distracting me. I don't think he realized how much his being there for me had walked me back from the ledge of a really big cliff. Janet was still on my mind, though, and I did my best to not appear worried or guarded, but I think he knew I was trying to put on a brave face.

Paul helped me pack the suitcase I'd used for the trip to Phoenix with the clothes I would need for the coming work week, since it was decided I would be staying at his place in the short-term. Two separate large plastic bins had various other items, including shoes, makeup, and personal care items. When we were done, my bathroom and closet looked as though I was in the process of moving out. I didn't have much to begin with, so maybe it looked as though I hadn't fully moved in?

As we were on our way to pack my stuff up in his car, we ran into my neighbor, who'd interrupted the idiot at my door this morning, and she asked if I was moving out. Paul told her I was staying with him for a couple days and thanked her for helping out. The exchange ended with her saying something about understanding and that she would keep an eye out for the guy and call the police if he came back. When we were in the car and about to leave I remembered the flowers he'd bought and insisted on getting them. I think he knew they meant something to me by my crazed instance for having them with me.

Now lying on his couch, in his arms, I was finally feeling myself again. I hadn't even considered arguing about staying with him. Getting settled was easier than I thought it would be, and most of my stuff was unpacked and had a place. He’d made room for my clothes in his room, and I tried to be organized about putting things away, but I was running low on desire and just wanted to sit – which led to us snuggling on the couch.

We talked a little about Janet and eventually he said he would reach out to Tim to lay our suspicions out. We were hoping the RCMP investigators would consider looking into a possible Janet link to Lafleur via Vincent at CLogistics. Legally thin, but maybe…

"You need anything?"

"You need to get up," I asked, worried he was going to leave me to go out to the store or run some errand. I need to relax! Good God! He probably just needs to go to…

"Yeah, thirsty... Bathroom break. You want some more water?"

I nodded and moved my body off of him so he could get up. I lay back down after he'd walked out of the living room and wondered what it would be like being here all the time.

March 21st, 8:49 PM
Dinner was good, but I couldn't eat as much lasagna as I had the night before. I had to assure him I was fine multiple times and that I was just tired, which was the truth given the chaos my day had consisted of.

Generally speaking, our conversations were good since I got my head screwed back on after my lunchtime breakdown. He had me laughing more than a few times, which was nice. I insisted on helping with the cleaning up after dinner, and he gave in this time. It might have been the kiss I'd planted on his lips that helped convince him I wouldn't take 'No' for an answer.

We worked out an understanding of how we'd get ready for bed tonight and what the morning needed to look like. I was obviously the one needing more time to get ready on both ends of getting into bed and out of his townhouse for work. There was no awkward posturing or awkwardness when it came to our sleeping arrangements. I was happy about that because I really didn’t want to sleep alone and being with him is where I wanted to be tonight anyway.

I'd gotten up from the couch about an hour ago. Teeth brushed, showered, and legs shaved. I'd wash my hair in the morning, so all I needed to focus on was my nighttime skin care routine. I had just started applying lotion to my legs when I noticed Paul coming into the bedroom. When he saw me, he smiled.

"Damn those legs," he said, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around me.

"Too long, too skinny," I said, leaning back into his embrace and watching his face in the mirror next to mine.

He kissed my neck saying, "I'd argue that and win."

I turned to face him and said, "Oh, really? Which of us has more legal training?"

"I doubt in court you'd stand much of a chance," he said, kissing me.

His lips were tenderly over mine, our tongues slowly exploring, his hands making their way to my ass. I was wearing only an oversized t-shirt, and while it hung just below my ass cheeks, his hands wasted no time getting around the bottom of it and onto skin. I broke the kiss and studied his face; his hands hadn't moved. Was he reading my mind? Did he know I wanted him?

"Go shower... Come to bed," I said, kissing him quickly. "I need to finish up here. No need to rush; I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled, said something about how it would be hard to not rush, and grudgingly let me go to get his shower in.

March 21st, 9:23 p.m.
Paul opened the bathroom door to a darkened bedroom and was holding his towel in front of him, while patting his face dry. The look on his face when he finished said he was anxious to join me. He turned back to the bathroom to lay the towel over a rack, giving me a view of his very nice ass. Thank you very much for that! When he finished that and turned the light off; the room was now very dark. I heard a noise, saw a shadow moving, and a moment later felt him climb onto the bed, to slide under the sheets, and sidle up next to me.

I rolled away slowly so we could spoon, and once he'd adjusted for his arousal, his body was against mine perfectly and his cock sat comfortably between my legs. His arms were around me; there was a single kiss at my neck and a single slow grind of his hips into mine, which got a return push back of my hips in kind. Yes, that's what I'm thinking, Mr. Kline...

"I'm happy to just lay here with you," he whispered.

"If that's all you want, I... I might be disappointed," I said softly.

There was a moment when neither of us took a breath. He moved first, pulling my shirt up slowly, and I got the message that it needed to go. After a little bit of squirming, which hadn't dislodged his manhood from between my upper thighs, I got the t-shirt off. His hands found their way to my chest, cupping my breasts, and I stiffened, stifling a moan as his tongue traced a path to the back of my right ear and his lips pulled on the lobe. His fingers tugged at the nipple of my...

Oh, fuck! Ooooh fughk... I felt as if the whole bed had moved and jiggled slowly under us, though I knew it hadn't.

I reached between my legs, and my fingers could feel the head of his cock had found its way through the lube I'd applied down there before getting into bed. His body stiffened as I moved a single finger over the tip, tracing around the slickness of its fully engorged helmet and dribbled pre-cum. I moved the entirety of his cock between my thighs lower, then back up towards my ass. He pulled his hips back, and his cock was removed from my finger tips, but he slid it slowly back towards them, and I guided him up and towards...

He was frozen, but I encouraged my want by shifting my hips back into his. His right hand moved from my breast to my ass, pulling my ass cheeks a little wider open; he moved his hips slightly; and his cock was now firmly and pensively positioned at the tight rosebud opening.

I wanted him inside of me and tried again to encourage him to push himself into... Wait, he was waiting; why? I tried to relax, knowing there would be a few moments of pain and a need to relax, but I wanted...

And as if out of my body and my mind, I said, "I want you, Paul."

"I want you too,” was the reply I got in the darkened room whispered in my ear.

March 22nd, 7:09 a.m.
I was sitting, a little gingerly, at the dining room table, eating a piece of toast, while Paul was finishing up getting ready for work. My mind had been solidly focused on us and last night as I got ready for work this morning. We hadn't talk afterward we’d exhausted our collective wants for each other, instead we just held each other until we'd both succumbed to sleep. It was one of the most contented night’s sleeps I'd had in years.

I'd talked to Lisa about what I'd experienced the first time Paul and I had sex, skipping any crazy details but sharing enough to maybe get an explanation as to whether those feelings I’d had were normal since they weren’t like anything I’d experienced ever before. She was quick to say she knew what had happened. I was like, ‘Really?’, to which she proceeded to congratulate me on having my first big 'O' as a woman.

“You know, orgasm, climax, getting to the promise land!” she’d said happily, giggling all the while as I complained for her to stop and that someone might hear her since we were on our way to coffee.

I understood what she was saying certainly, but was having trouble believing that’s what had happened. At least until it happened again last night and was even better!

Of course she couldn’t stop razzing me the entire coffee run we’d be on when I asked about what I’d experienced. Some of her razzing was hilarious and delivered in a full-on typical Lisa manner, dripping with sexual innuendos I could only roll my eyes about while she expounded on some of what I’d experienced. For a few days after we'd talked, I’d catch her with an open mouth in an 'O' expression or holding her hands together in the shape of an 'O' every time we saw each other at work. Luckily, she dropped it after a couple days, but I'm sure it wouldn't be the last time I'd get that treatment from her.

Would she be able to tell I had a 'glow' today? I felt like I was glowing.

Were those feelings I had last night really an orgasm? I remember sensing something and feeling different, and my body absolutely being rocked last night. I was certain something was different last night for me, even without having any ejaculation to speak of like before I’d begun HRT. Something deeper and more powerful had rolled on and over me, and I was a feeling I wanted to capture that again and again.

Was this some kind of HRT benefit? If so, I would take it if it could be that every time we were in the throes of passion, I thought while smiling.

"Morning... You're smiling; I can't say I haven't had a few of those this morning."

Momentarily embarrassed, I got up and met Paul at the coffee maker, took his face in my hands, and kissed him softly, but with purpose. I could get used to this, being here with him.

"You make me smile... Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome. I'm glad I have that effect on you," he chuckled, turning to pour a cup of coffee.

"You've had quite the effect on me, Mr. Kline."

I carefully hugged him from behind as he set the cup down and turned to study me.

"Everything okay?"

"Absolutely... It couldn't be better."

March 22nd, 9:33 AM
We'd gotten to work with a couple minutes to spare, and after getting off the elevator on our floor, Paul and I went our separate ways. He had a busy day with interviews for the CIO position, his replacement, and a bunch of other techno babble he tried to lay on me on the way to work that I tuned out. He was pretty cute, though, and I did try to listen like I cared. I’m pretty sure he knew I didn't.

The kiss before we got out of his car in the garage brought smiles to both our faces. I think some of my smiling was because I knew we'd be going home together, so I had something to look forward to all day. No sooner had I entered my office than my phone started ringing—it was Gina Barnes, and judging by her tone and desire to see me immediately, my 'couldn't be better' morning was about to become a steaming pile of excrement.

In her office, she was composed and her usual cold self. By now, though, I'd figured that was her standard mode of operation, but when she began the dumping of her issues, it came quick and hard and was going to be painful for my team and ultimately me.

Her first issue, the Johnson Trucking LLC case, had gone to appeal, and was settled out of court. The ultimate ruling exonerated Johnson Tucking LLC of violating state campaign contribution laws. They did plead to a lesser infraction, but the center piece case she was relying on did nothing for the ethics case we were building with this cases new disposition. This case was the one that Gina had put a lot of emphasis on in her brief, and we were now going to be scrambling to strengthen the Bentley and Cambers case points as they related to Janet and Martin's ethical violations.

If that wasn't enough to ruin the morning, the hearing had been moved up to this Thursday, and the venue had been changed to an appellate court conference room. That wasn't that big of a deal for Gina, but the reassignment of the mediating party from a retired judge neither side had ties to, to a retired state supreme court judge who had ties to Janet was going to be a problem. Gina had a call into the state bar to find out how, why, and when these changes were made and to let them know of the possible bias or conflict of interest. To say she was pissed would be an understatement.

But the worst piece of news delivered in this meeting was that I was to assist Gina in the actual proceedings. I'd be a glorified paper pusher, but I would be there in the same room as Janet and Martin as Gina tried to screw them in this ethics hearing. She caught the concerned look on my face while belaying her desire that I assist.

"Is there an issue with that request?" she asked, annoyed.

Fuck!

"No, Mrs. Barnes, I'm..."

I stopped speaking when she stood, then walked around her desk to lean against it, just to the right of the seat I was in. She had used this 'power move' on me when I got this assignment, and while intimidating, I was used to her doing scary Gina things like this by now. I sat back and waited for the barking to begin.

"To this point, Elizabeth, I have been quite impressed with your team's efforts, even with the setback with the Johnson Trucking case. I am, however, wondering why you have issues with assisting me in the hearing against Janet and Martin. Help me understand your reservations," she asked none too gently.

"I have no problems assisting Mrs. Barnes," was my hushed reply. Think!

"But there 'is' something, some problem I'm not aware of, correct?"

Fuck! I was done hiding crap, and I trusted her allegiance to Jacob and to the firm. She was his pit bull in court, for God's sake, and I was just fodder to be easily chewed through and spit out as a lowly paralegal. Here goes nothing!

I spent the next eight minutes describing at a high level my involvement with investigating Amber's disappearance and left her with enough sprinkled 'coincidences' to say I thought Janet may have been involved.

"I was not aware you were that involved in retrieving Amber. I apologize for doubting your commitment, Elizabeth."

I was a little taken aback, shocked by the apology.

"Thank you, I... I value my job and the opportunity given to me by the firm. I would be happy to assist you at the ethics hearing."

She smiled, and then chuckled. "Happy might be an overreach, but I think this experience will be good for you. Plus, I fully intend to screw both of them; even with what I'm certain was Janet's meddling to getting someone at the state bar to make concessions for her regarding the hearing."

::: --- :::

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Rachel M. Moore