Page 37 of You Saw the Best In Me

“Hm, that name sounds familiar,” she mulls it over for a minute before it clicks.

I drown my plate in ketchup, ready to dig in when Juliette shakes my arm, nearly knocking me out of my seat.

“Oh shit, Karina! That’s Adam’s new hire! Remember the new kid he told us about?” she squeals, and my jaw drops.

I’ve seen him in his work clothes, the company name plastered on his back and me, being a clueless idiot, never made the connection.

“I should’ve known. Of course, I know both of his bosses,” I shake my head, but an idea forms.

“Can Adam and Hunter help me prank Maverick? Like the most perfect prank to end the war,” I smile, and Juliette immediately pulls out her phone.

Within the half hour, a plan has been set in motion. Juliette took the liberty of texting Adam, telling him his new employee fucked with me, which has his attention.

Adam and I have a fun friendship, but when I need him, he’s always there for me.

We’ve lived through hell and know how to survive. When I told him my story, once I trusted him enough, that was it. We were bonded, and I wasn’t just Juliette’s roommate or friend. I became a part of his world, and for that I’ll always be thankful.

I give Juliette some juicy information, which she passes on, and Adam assures us that his new nickname will stick by the end of the day.

I high-five Juliette and thank her for her help in this crucial mission.

I hold the keys to the prank war championship, which feels so good.

“This is exactly what I needed, Juliette. Thank you,” I say, hugging her in the parking lot.

“Next time Hunter and Willow have a dinner party, you’re coming!” she exclaims, and I agree that I’ll be there.

I drive home with a smirk painted on my face, and it’s not going anywhere. I just fucked Maverick over at work beyond the parameters of our usual playing field, and I know he’ll be livid.

I run a few errands, picking up detergent to do laundry and a few other cleaning supplies.

I spend hours at the store, wandering around and ending up with more than need, but retail therapy is a proven scientific cure.

I feel great after lunch and shopping, but when I reach the lobby I realize I should check my mailbox. I tend to forget, which is a terrible habit, and when the lock pops open it’s stuffed.

I carry the load upstairs and toss it on my kitchen counter, it’s most likely junk mail, considering my mom pays all my bills, and I pay her back.

A handwritten note is mixed in, and my heart nearly stops when I recognize who wrote it.

This is bold, even for him.

I immediately throw up in my kitchen sink, overcome with terror and anxiety.

I look out my window and don’t see anything, but I have no idea when this could’ve been sent.

The last time I checked my mail was one of my first days here when I met Maverick.

I pull my phone out to call my mom when I see an unopened text.

We need to talk. I’ll be home in thirty minutes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I completely forgot about the prank I pulled, and my mind fogged by this letter.

I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him? I can’t be that stupid damsel in distress, but this is fucking scary, and if I tell my mom, she’ll make me leave again.

I don’t want to move anymore, and I don’t want to run away.