ViennaMata

Claire

I'm back in my pajamas and parked in front of Aiden's TV. Joy informed me she's now officially my realtor and that we'll begin looking for places as soon as I'm ready. We're going to check out a few places this afternoon—I want to get settled and find a job as fast as I can. I've spent the last few hours searching online for open positions, but the pickings are slim unless I want to flip burgers or take up the very suspicious Craigslist ad from some guy "looking for a lady with nice feet—can meet at his home, alone, $5,000 per photo." Now, I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I'm pretty sure that's something to call the FBI about.

As I eat my ice cream, sitting on the couch with my feet strapped into a Restorator bike, a normal, chill, definitely-not-falling-apart kind of morning, watching Are You The One on Netflix, I hear a car pull up. Andrew is back—with, I squint—Jared? I panic and jump up to run upstairs and change, forgetting one key detail: my feet are still locked into the damn Restorator. To the floor I go.

I crash hard. A tangle of limbs, ice cream, and regret. Pain shoots down my leg and into my already-broken arm.

Fantastic.

The cast was supposed to come off in two weeks. Now? I'm thinking it'll be two months.

I start whisper-yelling for Joy because there's no way I want Drew and Jared to walk in and see me like this. Unfortunately, Aiden's beautiful home has massive windows along the walkway to the front door. The only thing hiding me right now is the couch—and I can't even climb the stairs.

This is a nightmare.

Joy walks into the living room, freezes, then runs to my side. "What the heck, Claire?! What happened?"

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I groan. "I was trying to be emotionally devastated but still, you know, active. Then I heard Drew's car and tried to run upstairs to change, but forgot my feet were still in the Restorator bike."

I'm laugh-crying. It's a mess. I'm a mess.

Joy kneels behind me, hooks her arms under mine, and tries to lift me. I scream out in pain, and she gently lowers me back down.

"Claire, I don't know how to help without hurting you more. Aiden's out grabbing groceries, and there's no way I can lift you up the stairs—not to mention, one of your ankles is starting to swell."

Cue emotional breakdown. My pride is bruised, my body is bruised, and my ego is practically roadkill.

Still half-laughing, half-crying, I tell her, "Okay, run upstairs and grab my yellow dress. It's on the floor." Yes, the floor. Once Drew left earlier, I basically ripped it off and dove into my pajamas.

I hear Andrew and Jared's voices at the door—followed by the doorbell. Joy runs up the stairs to grab my dress and comes back, kneeling by my head, trying to slide my pajama top off gently. My arm is screaming, but I insist she get it off.

As she tugs on the sleeve, I scream—and from outside we hear Drew shout, "CLAIRE?" The knocking turns urgent.

Joy yells back, "Just a minute, Andrew! We'll be right there!"

She's halfway done getting my dress on—my boobs are basically falling out, and my pants are still on—when we hear Drew yelling again.

"Joy, what's going on?! Where is Claire? I heard her scream!"

Then, of course, Jared chimes in because Jared: "Dude, maybe they're having a threesome." He shouts louder, "Should we come back later? Or do you have room for a fourth? Just to be clear, I'd be the fourth."

There's a loud thud. I'm guessing Jared just got smacked.

"No thanks, Jared. Drew, give us a minute. Claire fell and I'm trying to help her up," Joy says, frazzled.

Silence... then SLAM. Drew is trying to break the door down.

"Joy," Jared says, suddenly serious, "you should open it unless you want him to take it off the hinges."

Joy looks at me apologetically and runs to open the door.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!"

The second she opens it, Drew barrels in. "Where is she?"

Joy goes to block Jared. "She's in front of the couch, but let Drew get to her first. She's having a wardrobe malfunction—you don't want Jared seeing that."

Drew rushes over.

"Hi," I chuckle tearfully. "Bet you didn't think you'd see me again today looking like two split personalities fighting for control of the same body, huh?"

He doesn't smile. He's scanning me from head to toe, his hands hovering lightly over my legs until he sees my swollen ankle.

"Fuck, baby. Fuck. What happened? Can I pick you up?"

I shove a boob back into my top and nod. He gently removes my feet from the Restorator, careful not to aggravate the swelling, then scoops me into his arms and settles me on his lap on the couch.

"Joy, can you grab some ice?" he asks, examining me. "Baby, maybe you should move back home—"

"Come on, Andrew. Accidents happen. That's no reason to move back in, and I'm not going to. Joy and I are checking out apartments this afternoon. All I need is some pain meds, a wheelchair, and maybe an x-ray."

He shakes his head and notices my laptop open to that cursed Craigslist ad.

"What is this, Claire?"

Joy returns with the ice pack. Drew stands with me still in his arms, then gently lays me down on the couch, propping up my head and foot before placing the ice pack on my ankle.

I already miss his warmth.

"I'm looking for a job, Drew. Some of us need one of those to survive."

Jared scoffs. "Okay, MOST of us need jobs to survive—but Claire, you're not one of them. You're loaded. Maybe that fall knocked something loose and you're forgetting."

He looks at Drew. "Speaking of which, Drew needs a new secretary—fired his this morning. Isn't that right?"

I look at Drew. "What happened with Stella? Was she behind the wedding disaster?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah. She told security we wouldn't need them after the ceremony. And this morning? I found Becca screwing some guy in my office. He looked just like me. She was wearing your blouse and pencil skirt. He was in my suit."

My jaw drops. "Our clothes?!"

He nods.

Jared bursts out laughing. "Yea, Becca looked like a deranged cosplayer, and Discount Drew was wearing one of the most expensive suits in real Drew's closet."

Joy and I are speechless.

Jared wipes a tear. "Man, I wish you'd seen it. Claire, I swear—you would've lost. Your. Shit. But for the record? You wear your clothes way better."

I turn back to Drew. "Please tell me she's banned from the building—or at least from your floor."

"She is. I had HR file a sexual harassment complaint. She's not allowed near my office unless it's for a scheduled meeting."

I'm still trying to process. "How did she even get our clothes?"

Drew sighs. "I keep a change of clothes for both of us in my office. After our last... office moment... I figured it'd be smart. Didn't know I was stocking up for someone else's office affair."

I shake my head. "She's insane."

Drew squats beside the couch. "I do need an assistant, and you need a job. I'll pay you a fair salary. You can get your own health insurance through the company if you want. And if you want to go back to teaching after summer, I'll find someone else. I swear, I'll keep it professional. At work."

He looks up at me, eyes pleading.

"You already don't live with me, Claire. Please. Let me be near you... even if it's just at work."

27. Claire

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