Free Love Emerged by Michelle Lynn

“McCain? Are you Tanner McCain’s brother?”
    Dylan nods, proud, as he should be.
    These dipshits don’t know the true story.
    “I am, and Brad Ashby is his best friend. Yes, they were involved in something at Michigan, but that’s been cleared up for a couple of months now. Brad’s a good guy, and I think you’ll like him.” Dylan stands.
    I’m sure he wants to escape their judging eyes.
    “That’s all, guys. Go back to work, and we’re having lunch with Brad tomorrow. Team-building.” Tim leaves the room.
    I rise from my chair to bolt the hell out.
    “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose? A lunch with the budget guy,” John says as he files out of the room with Kevin and Yasmin.
    I round past Dylan to hide back in my cubicle.
    “Can I talk to you for a second?” Dylan’s hand lands on my arm.
    My eyes close as I search for any ounce of willpower I might have against this guy.
    I spin around and wait for him to talk first.
    “I want to apologize for leaving. I just—God, can we go out for a drink after work?”
    “No. I already told you to quit sweating it. We’re good,” I lie because I am offended. He made me feel like a slut. But if I tell him I’m hurt, then that’ll only open me up to more pain, and I can’t let that happen.
    “You okay with Brad coming here?” He changes subjects, which shows how much he really gives a shit about me. He doesn’t.
    “Well, I have to be, don’t I?” I back up, putting space between us. “Excuse me, Dylan. I need to finish working on the Fraedrich’s account.” I twist around and leave the room before he can touch me or object.
    My phone is vibrating off the edge of my desk when I return. I totally forgot to grab it on my way to the meeting. Right before it catapults to the floor, I pick it up.
    Mom . Sigh.
    I swipe across the screen because I don’t have a choice. She’s called restaurants to have me paged before. She’ll stop at nothing to talk to me.
    “Hey, Mom,” I answer, sulking in my chair.
    “Sweetie, I’m back in town, and I need you to come see me tonight.”
    Again? Why is she here again?
    “Why are you back this time?”
    “Just come and see me after work, okay?”
    I pull the phone from my ear to make sure I really am talking to my mom. She’s way too sweet to be the woman who raised me.
    “Okay.”
    “Great. I love you.”
    Say what?
    Click . The line goes dead.
    I’m confused and wondering why she’s back in Detroit and why on earth she’s being overly nice to me.
    Before I can put the phone down, a text message rings in.
    Dylan: Let’s go out tonight. I want to talk.
    Bea: I have plans. Another night.
    Dylan doesn’t respond back, and I don’t mean to be a bitch, but he’s acting like I should fall at his feet and beg him to give me the reason he ran out the other night. I hadn’t expected roses and candy, but an hour would have been nice.
    Is that because I enjoy his company though? Am I the screwed-up one in our friendship?
    Dylan: I’m holding you to that.
    First, I need to figure out why the hell my mom is here. I send a quick message to Tim that I have to leave early for a meeting with the Fraedrich’s, and then I pack up.
    Just like two weeks ago, I’m out of the building and on my way to the MGM. The only difference is my taxi driver.
    This time though, when I knock on the penthouse door, Helen answers.
    “Beatrice,” she says in her thick Asian accent, “you upset me.”
    “Hi, Helen. Why is that?” I walk into an empty room and look to the right and left for my mom. Let’s get this talk done.
    “You not stay here last time.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I was in a rush.”
    “Hey.” She pinches my blouse and pulls me into her room of the suite.
    “Helen!” I screech.
    But she ignores my attempts to break free. It’s like I’m fifteen again, and she caught me with a boy.
    “So, your mama is in a dire place. She’s passed out right now in her bed. She’s depressed, so you be nice to her.” She pokes