Free Strapped by Nina G. Jones

make me anxious. I don’t like people touching me or hugging me, or shaking my hand. I do not like being handed anything directly by people I do not know.” Oh no, Taylor. Is this why you live in your giant fortress in the hills? I sense the embarrassment in his voice. “One of the reasons I will have you around is to help me as a buffer in social situations. Galas, fundraisers, and those sorts of things make my anxiety more intense. You have no idea how much touching and exchanging of items occur at these events when you have no issue with it. I will rely on you to help me hide these issues. For example, handing me a glass of champagne off of a tray instead of me grabbing it for myself.” I feel the ache of sorrow for this lonely man. His perfect looks, his beautiful house, his wealth all now seem like a cocoon for him, not a manifestation of success.
    “Is it about germs?” I ask, genuinely trying to understand.
    “Not really. I have always had these issues to some degree and I can’t really say what they stem from. It’s not germaphobia in the conventional sense. I mean, there are many things I touch on any given day that are exposed to the normal amount of germs. It’s something else, a tension or discomfort that needs to be relieved. The anxiety is distracting and makes me hate the mingling aspect of these events even more. I guess the best way to describe it is that I prefer to keep an invisible wall between me and the greater world. These habits help me with that. There are just certain rules I have always had for as long as I can remember and to break them gives me great anxiety. I have found ways to hide it, but certain situations bring the behaviors to the surface. I have a terrible feeling of dread if I don’t do things in conjunction with my rules. As the CEO of one of the largest companies in the US, I do my best to keep this under wraps. I don’t want to attract attention to my issues or tie them into the company. I have worked too hard to look like some freak.” His voice trails off. The NDA makes perfect sense now.
    “But you touched my hand.”
    “Listen. I didn’t want you to feel weird about this when I was persuading you to work for me, so I wanted to wait until we knew each other a little better.” He pauses, looking uncomfortable. “When you spilled the coffee on me, normally, that would have sent me reeling. I mean there was your coffee on me, and you were wiping me, touching me.” I wince at my clumsy and awkward behavior, having no idea how that must have felt for him.
    “I’m sorry,” I say with shame in my voice.
    “No. That’s not how I meant it. What I am trying to say is I didn’t feel any of that when you touched me. I felt completely relaxed. I am not sure why, but I knew I couldn’t let you walk away without talking to your further. Lucky for me, it rained.” He smiles a wistful smile. “I thought you could be my conduit to the world, a work companion of sorts. It’s nice to be around someone that doesn’t make me feel so tense. I really did need an assistant, but was having a hard time finding someone suitable. Then you literally fell into my arms like fate.” While I feel sad for Holden’s predicament, part of me selfishly feels relief. I now know why he so adamantly pursued me and why he made me sign the NDA. We are finally sitting here, out in the open, no gameplay or hidden agendas. I can only hope that now that I know his secret, he can act more like the person I first met.
    I am careful not to be too emotional in my response as I have learned this only causes him to recoil. “I am happy to help however I can. Just tell me what you need me to do and I will help you.” I look into his eyes, that now appear to be two orbs of jade, darkened with emotion.
    “Thank you Ms. Ball.” Just like that, the wall is back up. I clench up from the immediate disappointment. The tension is now mine to bear. “You should be heading home. We have a full day of work ahead