Free Privacy Code (Shatterproof) by Jordan Burke Page B

no windows, no view, no connection to the outside world.
    That sounded more like something I would have done, but instead I chose to get outside as much as possible.
    She brought up Watts the first day we had lunch. I didn’t feel like talking about it, and explained why: that I needed to begin pushing the memory of him out of my mind.
    She was reaching out. I was touched, and for the second time in six months I was making a personal connection with someone. Much different than the Watts situation, but still.
    I was making a friend. Something I had never allowed myself to do. While it hadn’t been easy, it was at least a small bright star on the otherwise pitch-black emotional horizon that I’d been staring at since Watts walked out of that hotel room.
    She liked reality shows but I didn’t watch them. She liked country music, and I wasn’t a fan. She came from a big family, and I came from no family.
    So we had our differences, but there was still a connection. Best of all, she didn’t try to pry information out of me about my past.
    She tried to talk me into going out that upcoming weekend. I declined at first, telling her I had a lot to take care of at home.
    “Like what?”
    I shrugged. “Just, you know, things around the house. I really have to clean this weekend.”
    Tara eyed me skeptically. “Didn’t you say you had, like, a nine-hundred square-foot apartment?”
    I nodded.
    “How long could that possibly take to clean? And you’re always impeccable looking. I bet your apartment is the cleanest in your complex.”
    I laughed lightly. She had no idea how right she was. It wasn’t that I was a neat freak or had some kind of compulsion to clean; it was more along the lines of cleaning was so mething to do when I was bored.
    Hey, there are worse things I could have been doing. Like browsing that dating site, which I had no intention of doing again.
    “There’s a band I want to see,” Tara was saying. “I saw them on Conan O’Brien’s show one night and they’re p laying in Alexandria on Friday night. Shit, that’s tomorrow. This week has flown by.” She went on to tell me more about the band, and about how hot the lead singer was. “I’m going with my friend Callista, and I really think you should go with us.”
    I thought about it for a moment, looking straight ahead, and when I looked at her and saw her big smile and her eyebrows wiggling on her forehead, I relented.
    “Okay,” I said. “Sounds good.” It didn’t really sound good, but I said that anyway, and I guess somewhat convincingly because she didn’t challenge it.
    “And, who knows? ” she added. “Maybe you’ll meet a guy there, too. Fuck that Internet dating shit.”
    No way was that going to happen, I thought. It was the last thing I wanted or needed right now. But I didn’t tell her that.
    I went straight home after work the next day. I wanted to shower and change into something more appropriate for a concert.
    On the drive home, I fought with myself over whether to go with the plans or back out at the last minute. I didn’t know anything about this band. I was not big on concerts and clubs, anyway. I didn’t know who Callista was or if she was bringing someone else, and whether guys would be involved…
    It was sounding more and more like something I didn’t want to do.
    But I had promised my new friend I would go. What kind of friend would that make me if I backed out?
    All of that was moot when I was getting undressed for my shower. While waiting for the water to warm up, I checked my email on my phone. I wasn’t expecting anything, especially what I found in my inbox.
     
    To: Catherine
    From: Watts
    Subj : Proposition
    I need to see you.
    I’m not going to ask you to respond to this email. Just read it and decide.
    There’s a bar called Off The Record. It’s in the Hay-Adams at the corner of 16 th St. NW and H St. NW. You may already be familiar with the location.
    I will be there at 7 p.m. sharp. Meet me outside