JULIE

“He said he wouldn't be here without you, and I don't know why I didn't think of you immediately.” Dr. Ted McKnight speaks to me eagerly, while horror forms on my face.

He holds out a hand. “It's Dr. McKnight, remember? We met—”

Instead of matching Ted's boyish excitement, my voice comes out flat.

“At the hospital, while Hunter was recovering.” I look at Hunter, who's suddenly interested in his empty champagne flute. “I had no idea we were even dating.”

Ted laughs. “Let me guess, you asked him out first, didn’t you?”

Before I can ask if Katie was filming us for a skit, Hunter takes my hand.

“Yeah.” Hunter chuckles. “Hey Dad, I think the trivia game over there needs a fourth person—”

“So, how did it happen?” Ted inquires, ignoring his son. “Before the incident or after?”

With no sign of a camera aimed at us, I realize Dr. McKnight isn't joking. I squeeze Hunter's fingers for help, but he gives me a secret pleading stare. A lump forms in my throat. This is actually happening.

“After,” I lie.

“Well, it's no surprise; a tragedy can bring two people together.” Ted nods while linking his fingers together. “I'm just glad my boy's not going to end up alone. What's your name again? Julie?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, and he shakes my hand.

Then Ted and Hunter wanders off to talk to some of the board members, leaving me to wonder if I'm in a coma.

I don't get to see Hunter until after the party.

“I know you're upset.” He says.

“I'm way more than upset. What the hell? I'm not your girlfriend!” I hiss through my teeth.

Hunter shrugs with a skeptical look. “My dad concluded.”

“So, why didn't you correct him?” I hiss.

“Uh.” Hunter drawls and steps back into the wall as I come closer.

“You told him, didn't you?” I narrow my eyes; I want to punch him so hard, but I remember he's my boss.

“Look, I can fix it. I'll say you broke up with me.”

“Oh, that won't make me look like the bad guy at all. More like a giant cock before everyone!”

Hunter looks away and then back to me as if an idea has hit him. “You felt something when we kissed, didn't you?”

I stare at him, unsure of what to say.

He smiles brightly. “You did.”

I bring my index finger and thumb together. “I'm this close to filing a lawsuit.”

“But you won't, because you're not a giant—”

“Enough!” I spat. “We'll break up mutually, like in a week. End of story.”

Much to my confusion, Hunter shifts on one foot, staring at me nervously.

“What?”

Hunter's lips pry open, but he says nothing. I shake my head in disbelief.

“You told him we were going long-term, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly in those words, Julie. It's messed up, I know. My dad is what you would call a rule follower. I broke seven generations of McKnights holding medical degrees; my uncle's a registered nurse, and he still gets bullied. So imagine what it's like for me.”

I scoff. “Oh, you poor rich dude.”

“I'm serious.” He pleads. “Remember when I said I owe you for saving my life? I'll give you anything you want in return for helping me again.”

Maybe I must have been blinded by authority or respect, because Hunter McKnight was actually the biggest goofball I've ever met.

Hunter's eyes grew so much that I might have seen stars in them.

I groan.

“We need to draw up some kind of a rule book,” I say.

“You'll do it?” He asks eagerly. “Excellent.”

“How old are you again?” I ask.

“Uh, twenty-seven.”

I have a strong feeling this hole we're digging will only go deeper.

* * * * * * * *

“Why is it so cramped in here?” Hunter asks the next day as he squeezes into my one-bedroom apartment.

“It's because you're built like a quarterback,” I reply.

We settle into my dining table. I haven't had the time to settle in properly. “Did you play football in high school?”

Hunter frowns. “No.”

“I may need to remember that,” I murmur as I flip open the black folder in front of me. “So, last night I drew up a draft for the legal agreement—”

“Wait, what?” Hunter asks in alarm. “I thought we were going to compare notes about what we like and our goals?”

I shoot him a nonplussed stare. “Why?”

“What if my dad asks about the time I won a trophy at the science fair? Or if you remember the name of my favorite painkiller prescription?”

I clasp my hands together over the table. “I don't need to know what your favorite color or movie is, either, Hunter. We're not actually dating.”

Hunter scoffs. “When was the last time you dated? Certainly, you knew everything about your ex.”

I shrug. “Thanks to the permanent scar on my belly, now I wish I didn't.” I push the folder to him. “I'm protecting myself legally, just in case something happens.”

Hunter reads the folder. “Oh yeah, like what? Dad finding out you know absolutely nothing about me?”

“I know you have a tattoo of a skull with wings on your back.” I muse, flashing a smile.

He smirks and shakes his head. “Everyone knows that.” Then his eyes grow wide at the document. “You want what? Seven percent of my company shares!”

I tap my cheek with a finger. “Is that too much?”

“Julie, that's more than board members get.” He barks. “It's not achievable!”

“Five percent is my final offer,” I say. “You came to me for help, and this is what I want, Hunter.”

“You're kind of devious.” He remarks.

“Do you want to change your mind then?”

“No.”

He makes some calls, and I can practically picture myself in a new apartment with the money I'll be getting.

For my first team meeting, I feel more confident than ever. Sylvia, on the other hand, is interested in filing her nails.

“Since everyone has adapted to modern technology, we could do something retro by building a stone wall in the neighborhood for families,” I suggest. “They could leave goodwill messages, birthdays, and even wedding invitations?”

Sylvia speaks up. “Yeah, that sounds solid, Julie.”

I beam at her.

“You know, if this were an average neighborhood.” Sylvia finishes.

I slowly frown.

“We need to provide quality services based on the income of our clients.” Sylvia turns to everyone. “Do you think an astronaut or a tech CEO has the time to scribble with chalk on walls? That's what texting is for, people.”

No one even dares to laugh along with Sylvia.

Drawing a deep breath, I bite my tongue. “Good point. Now, if you were listening instead of shaping your nails, you would have heard me mention tech.”

She drops her nail file.

“I think it's essential to give character to a neighborhood,” someone offers.

By the end of the meeting, Sylvia approaches me.

“You don't need to apologize,” I say before she can speak. “It's a collective effort after all.”

Sylvia blinks. “No. I wasn't.” She whispers to me. “For the record, we both know I deserve that office you're sitting in. If McKnight hadn't been so careless, you'd still be in your cubicle. Don't ever forget it.”

I glare at her. “Not quite, but you won't ever forget who's boss.”

As Sylvia leaves the room, my heart sinks with certainty that I've just declared war.