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I grabbed her and dragged her into bed.

And days went by like that. Weeks. I wouldn’t have described them as blissful, not out loud at least, but I thought it more than once.

I was on the phone, arguing with an old college friend of mine when Ro walked into my office.

“Let me ask my boss what she thinks,” I told him.

“This is my friend Jason,” I told her, pointing at the phone. “I’m trying to tell him he needs to quit his job. He works for Vice, and I think they’re trying to kill him. Ask me why I think that.”

She played along. “Why do you think that?”

“He’s on location in the Congo right now. This man can’t wash his hands without applying lotion immediately after, and they make him live without indoor plumbing. This man couldn’t fight his way out of an internet café, and they send him to the worst bush wars in the world. Tell me that doesn’t sound like they’re trying to kill him.”

“When you put it that way, it does sound a bit suspicious,” she agreed.

“Your boss?” Jason was asking me, and I could tell everything going on on my end was cracking him up.

“Yeah, she was supposed to be my assistant, but now she’s running my life, so that seems like a more appropriate title, don’t you think?”

Ro was still standing in front of my desk, and I realized she was waiting for me.

“What do you need, cupcake?” I asked her, ignoring whatever Jason was saying now on the other end.

“I’m taking off for a few hours.”

I studied her, head to toe. She was wearing a pretty floral dress—that I had picked out for her, of course. Her hair was different, braided back from her face, but with a few teasing tendrils framing her face.

Uh uh. Not good.

She was even wearing a bit of makeup. Mascara and lip gloss, maybe a touch of blush, I thought.

I got a sick feeling in my gut.

“Why?” I asked sharply. “Where? It’s a Tuesday, you know.”

“I’m more aware of days of the week in general than you are, so yes I knew that. And it’s after five, and I’m allowed to come and go as I please, I think we’ll both agree. I’m not an actual hostage, and I’m allowed to have a social life.”

Everything she said was true, of course, but I really didn’t like the way she was saying it. That she was saying it at all.

“I’ve got to go,” I told my friend, “I’ll talk to you later. Please quit your job.”

“Catch you later, man. Invite me to the wedding.”

I paused. “I would, but she refuses to marry me,” I said and hung up. Boy, was that going to run around the rumor mill and come back to bite me in a hurry. I just didn’t care. In fact, it kind of tickled me.

I gave her my undivided attention. “Now, where are you going?”

She sighed, crossed her arms and looked like an adorable, bratty child as she did it. “I have a church… social thing.”

“What kind of social thing?”

“It’s like a dance, but we mostly stand around and talk. It’s a nice way to meet new people in the area.”

“A dance?” I asked her, voice cold.

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, don’t wait up.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”