Personal: The Extended Edition (Private #3)

Chapter 9

Brynley

“I’m going shopping,” I definitively announce upon my entering of Wes’s upstairs office where he’s meeting with my mom about the yearly estate financial plan. He barely has time to put down the shark pen he’s holding before I’m clarifying, “ I’m not asking. I’m telling. ”

A deep, displeased grumble is poorly hidden behind his gritted teeth.

You’d think I was announcing a month-long trip to Japan with the way he’s responding.

Which I’m not.

I’m not even leaving the fucking city.

Just the estate.

Without him.

“And I should probably tell you…” my frame leans over to place a loving peck onto Mom’s cheek, “you may wanna consider an increase to the fancy bush budget.”

“ Topiary ,” Wes casually corrects.

“Why?”

“Your grandson has taken to naming, feeding, watering, petting and giving them ‘haircuts’…” A tiny cringe is presented as I slide my palms into the back pockets of my ripped jeans. “Ultimately changing not only their shapes but life expectancies.”

Snickers precede her leaning back in her seat. “I’ll talk to the boss about it.”

The comment successfully gets my husband smiling.

Warmly.

Relaxed.

While I understand his paranoia – after all it was me that nearly died during what I imagine was a ransom kidnapping gone awry – I also would appreciate him understanding my aquarium fever.

I’ve been rescued.

Rehabilitated.

Time for the part where we release me back into the wild.

At the very least realize it’s time for me to test the waters.

He does his best to maintain the adoring expression as he shifts his focus to me. “Use my card. Take Hurst.” There’s no room for arguing. “ I’m not asking. I’m telling. ”

Sassily smirking is attached to my frame swaying closer to his. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Phone?”

“No.” Wes rotates his chair to better face me. “Park is still in the process of changing your number, securing your line, and adding extra encryption measures for your data. While he was projected to be done by today, he encountered a minor setback courtesy of an unexpected lead he’s following.”

“About the letter that was sent to the hospital or the attack itself?”

“The letter.” Fidgeting with his pen is clearly done in uncertainty. “A couple of Jessie’s classmates were in or near the library at the time of its pickup, so he’s looking into those individuals. Verifying their whereabouts at the time of the attack. Any suspicious activity of their bank accounts. Having cyber comb through their social media to search for any indications they may have been part of a plan or plot that involved the kidnapping or ransoming of you or Wy or anything similar in their pasts that would imply they would be open to trying it again.”

“You think someone used their relationship or close proximity to Jessie to get to us?”

“I think right now Park having something is better than him having nothing. ”

“Agreed,” Mom calls out from the other side of the desk.

“Use Hurst’s phone if you need me.” His shoulders do their best to untense once more. “I’ve got this budget meeting with Lauren, a brief employee evaluation with Zaidee, and a business brunch with J.T. and Faulk-”

“The dude who treated me like a high-class escort?”

Wes’s eyebrows immediately dart down in confusion. “Who told you that?”

“Why would someone need to tell me that? I was there. ” Folding my black crop top sweater sleeves across my chest is followed by an annoyed headshake. “He smelt like sandalwood and sadness and nearly shit his pants trying to bail before you blackballed him.”

“I remember hearing all about that and how much you love public sex when I was finally allowed visitors.”

“I’ve always loved public sex.”

“Yes, but that was the first time you could openly have public sex, which both increased and decreased the thrill.”

“That’s right!”

“I’m going to skip the page regarding you discussing our sex life with your mother-”

“Pretty sure we’ve been over that.”

“-and land on the one where we acknowledge you having a memory that you didn’t have to read somewhere.”

“Holyshit!” All of a sudden, my eyes widen in shock. “Holyshit! I did! I really fucking did!”

“We’ll make sure to mention that at your work medical assessment on Monday.”

Excited squeaks can’t be contained.

Okay, yeah.

I obviously don’t remember everything yet, but the fact I am remember anything… anything that I didn’t have to use a study guide for is progress.

And I need progress.

I need my life getting somewhere closer to the realm of normal.

“I’ll mostly be in meetings today; however, I’m always available if you need me.”

Salaciously scooting closer is accompanied by a flirty smirk. “And if I want you?”

“Same rules apply.”

“And if I wanna have dinner with you tonight?”

The corner of Wes’s lips smugly kicks upward. “Like a date , Ms. Kyle?”

“Like a date , Mr. Wayne.”

“Be ready by seven.”

I wrap my hands around the arms of his chair and lean forward. “Eight.”

“ Seven. ”

Crashing my mouth onto his causes him to groan over the initial contact yet the instance my lips widen just enough to grant his tongue access to mine, the sound amplifies.

Intensifies.

Leads to him winding one hand around my throat to keep me pinned in place as he reiterates what he’s commanded versus what I’m trying to negotiate.

Abruptly pulling back prompts him to unexpectedly pant presenting me with the perfect opportunity to declare, “Seven thirty it is.”

Grumbles of submission slip loose prior to him finishing the lashing he keeps fairly light due to the other person in the room.

Afterward, I bid them both goodbye, grab my Star Trek fanny pack I get the feeling Wes was trying to hide from me, and summon Lurch away from his not-so-secret sexting with Jessie.

Neither of them are good about hiding the fact they’re fucking.

Mom and I had a whole convo about it last night during our monthly medical and mocktails night, which is apparently something we agreed would be a good way for us to keep our mother-daughter bond in spite of the fact I myself am a mom too.

We drink frozen blended beverages and binge old medical dramas – Nurse Jackie has some killer lines – while Clark, Wes, Wy – and sometimes Puppet Boy – do their own less laidback activity such as a sporting event or bookstore trip or even feeding the ducks after having sandwiches at Mo Mo’s.

I think it’s a good balance for our family.

One that I enjoyed restoring.

Huh.

And since we’re on the subject of restoring, I think it’s time to restore another relationship.

Like one with the person, I have a feeling has a matching Star Trek fanny pack.

“Lurch,” I lean forward between the seats, “detour to the Reeses.”

“You could say please.”

“You could be more subtle about fucking my son’s barely legal nanny.”

“She’s more than barely legal,” he mindlessly argues, admission of guilt swiftly following the statement. Arrogance bounces my eyebrows prior to him sighing, “Detour it is.”

Our quick change in direction to their end of the property doesn’t add more than a couple minutes to our journey and damn sure doesn’t require letting Wes in on it.

No, I don’t need his approval, but I know he worries.

Honestly?

He’ll probably worry less if I’m out with a bestie.

Or who knows.

Perhaps more.

I’ve seen our photos.

We’ve made way too many headlines for chicks not starring in their own Real Housewives reality show.

Taking the stone path through their landscaping up to the front door of their house – that’s resembles more of a resort home than anything in the guest living quarters department – not only allows me a minute to relish in the warm, early fall sun, it gives me adequate time to consider what exactly it is I should say.

I mean how do you talk to your best friend that you don’t even remember is your best friend?

Although, can it really be any weirder than fucking your husband that you have no recollection of being your husband?

Ringing the doorbell is done the instant I arrive and sliding my palms into my back jean pockets occurs next.

About two minutes later, one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen in real life, appears in the doorway, barefoot, with a messy bun, and a Spock printed “Trek Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself” cropped t-shirt.

Oh yeah.

This friendship was clearly forged at the Fleet.

“Put on pants , Gaila,” my head kicks the direction of the waiting vehicle, “we’re going shopping.”

The brown skinned bombshell in front of me lightly laughs. “I would never hide Kirk under my bed. He breaths too fucking loud.”

“ Right?! ”

“But I’ve done it.” She leans her t-shirt covered shoulder against the frame. “The painted myself green to be Gaila thing.”

Cocking an eyebrow is instant. “Seriously?”

“It was J.T.’s birthday.” Her shrug is small. Innocent. “It was either that or file for divorce after trying yet failing to build another Blue Brixx Star Trek set together.” She shakes her head in obvious annoyance. “I don’t have to speak fucking German to know that that was a nose piece not an ear.”

It’s my turn to giggle.

“What are we shopping for?” One leg theatrically crosses in front of the other. “Clothes? Makeup? Collectables?”

“Whatever you want.” Waggling my eyebrows is attached to mirthful smirk. “ It’s on Wes. ”

Glee spreads throughout her gaze prior to her stating, “Give me five?”

“We’ll be waiting.”

About twelve minutes later – another piece of evidence we’re besties – we’re in the vehicle headed towards downtown. We talk about music, dance to a classic Cooper Copeland song, and discuss some of the celebrities we’ve both apparently met despite my lack of memory. Our conversation about them easily flows into the status of my concussion and amnesia and all other health things I’m willing to talk about since they hadn’t received real updates.

According to her, Wes has been keeping all that information possible close to his Bat covered chest.

The most he’s told everyone is that I’m healing and will need extensive space.

In his defense…I had turned into a bit of a Pacific angelshark.

But I wouldn’t have bit had he let others try to talk to me.

Be near me.

“You should definitely call Vanessa and Calen,” Nae recommend while pushing around clothes in the third boutique shop, we’ve entered. “You know when you get a phone.” She momentarily stops perusing to check her own that’s vibrating. “And I should definitely invest in a work only phone to successfully not be bothered on my day off.” Her eyes cut to mine. “It’s not like the entire ship is going to fall to its doom if I postpone logging in my daily star date entry, ya know?”

“What do you do again?”

“I’m the lead choreographer and engagement liaison for the Highland Hellcats basketball team.”

“Meaning?”

“That dancing pays shit and teaching dance also pays shit, so I coordinate events and outings and appearances for the girls to attend that boosts and protects the team’s branding while simultaneously helping the chicks supplement their income during their dance career with us for a respectable salary on top of the commissions fee, I receive from connecting the dancers to financial opportunities… globally. ”

“ Fuck dude. ” My jaw hits the over polished floors beneath us. “You’re like a real-life Troi.”

“And you, Mrs. A Thresher Shark And A Fox Shark Are The Same Fucking Thing, are a real-life Uhura whose marine life based knowledge reminds us all an awful lot of philology.” Amusement crosses her expression as she pulls out a pink tube top monstrosity. “Too Selena meets My Little Pony ?”

“ One hundred. ”

Nae sighs, shoves the object back on the rack, and braces an arm on top of it. “Maybe we shop for you now? I’m clearly not in step with any of these places so far.”

Small giggles precede me lowering my mouth to retort yet a familiar face passing by the distant glass window has me switching topics. “Have you ever had a stalker?”

“Several.”

Our eyes lock once more. “Did they ever get…violent?”

“Violent? No. Creepy?” She bounces her head back and forth, loose locks playfully swaying around. “I’d check the yes box before the no box.”

I cut another glance to the young woman who has stopped outside the store where she’s pretending to text instead of stare. “Do you think that that’s who attacked me the day of the incident? A Wes stalker gone Nero?” My head falls to one side on a disapproving glare. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Is that in reference to your stepsister?”

“Can we not call her that?”

Nae poorly hides her grin. “Your mom’s husband’s daughter.”

“Wordy.”

“Mouthy.”

Another round of snickers slips free in tandem with my nodding. “Yeah. I’ve been wondering if maybe the incident is somehow related to her or someone who feels like she felt, which to my understanding – because I don’t remember shit about that whole nightmare that I haven’t been directly told – was like I was given command when I didn’t deserve type of shit.” I steal another quick look at the woman less than innocently angling her phone to snap a picture of us. “What if Wes has a stalker who thinks if she gets his son and wife out of the way, she can have him all to herself?”

“Valid ship of thought.”

“Thank you.”

“ Except- ”

“No thank you,” leaves me on a headshake. “I like feeling brilliant.”

Nae’s eyeroll is mirth filled. “Stalkers escalate. They tend to start small, taking pictures from a distance. Leaving you love letters on your car windshield. Chalk painting ‘Mine Forever’ on your hotel window-”

“Very specific.”

“-and then they grow. Bolder. And often more forceful.”

“Like trying to murder your wife or kidnap your child.”

“Yeah, but that’s the captain’s seat. They start in the academy.”

“As in if there’s no other proof beside my curiosity, it’s unlikely to be a stalker.”

“Exactly.”

Scrunching my nose occurs prior to me kicking my chin to the chick now pretending to be on a phone call. “So, we don’t think that Voyager extra out there – who has been snapping pics by the way – has anything to do with what happened to me?”

“Highly unlikely.” Nae finally steals a glance of the situation. “We’re clickbait, so anytime we’re seen out together, someone… somewhere …insists on following us around to grab photos for some outlet.”

“Should I let Lurch know?”

“We can let him know on our way out.” She suspiciously smiles in a way I would. “I like when he takes their phones, throws them on the ground, and then curb stomps them while making heavy eye contact.”

Additional laughter has my head tipping slightly backwards.

“What are you in the mood to buy?” My best friend – that I can’t deny feels like it – folds her arms across her chest. “Something for your date tonight? Something for after your date tonight?”

“Something that feels like me. ”

Bewilderment scrunches her entire face.

“I was looking in my closet this morning, and I have all these clothes in there that are mine , but they’re not mine. They reflect me but not… me. They’re the me that I was before the incident, the me that I’ve studied since it, but not the me that’s moving forward, that’s not afraid to tell Spock I’m the best and deserve to be on the best assignment.”

“ Gahhhh , she was so hot in that moment,” Nae swoons.

“One thousand percent.”

We exchange girlish giggles that are followed by her nodding her comprehension. “And what you’re saying makes total sense. You now needs to connect to the now you.”

“ Exactly! ”

“Time for a trip to Gemini.”

An excited gasp instantly escapes. “Holyfuck! I still see Gemini?!”

“Why would you ever see anyone else?” my bestie sasses back. “You know the rule. Hairdressers, nail techs, and waxers are self-care doctors. You don’t change that shit unless you’re moving or someone is retiring, which is why I now see Gemini too.” Nae’s eyebrows playfully bounce before she retrieves her phone. “Let’s start there with the whole being you thing because you know what they say…New Hair. New. You. ”