Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Stranger88: I don’t think that makes you a porcupine. It makes him a dick.
Stranger7721: Thank you for saying that!! This guy’s a piece of work. The bane of my existence in the office.
Stranger88: Maybe one of these days I’ll come to your office and you can point him out to me. I’ve got some good one-liners I can use to put him in his place without coming off like an ass myself.
Stranger7721: That would be amazing. I don’t think he’s ever been put in his place in his life. I’d do it, but I have to a professional.
Stranger88: Happy to do it for you. It’s not like they can fire me. I don’t work there.
Stranger7721: Appreciate it.
Stranger88: Okay, so let’s talk about what we’d do AFTER I put this douche canoe in his place. I’m thinking we go into your office? (Do you have an office?) Shut the blinds. Lock the door. I’d kiss you, soft and slow at first, and then I’d take you right there on your desk, ripping off your nylons so I could spread your legs wide and taste you.
I swallow, my entire body buzzing. The idea of having sex on my desk at work is one I’ve never entertained in my life—now I can think of nothing I want more.
Stranger7721: Sounds dangerous… what if someone heard us?
Stranger88: ☺That’s why you’d have to be extra quiet. Can you do that?
In that second, I make a decision. Screw BLIND LOVE’s terms of service. If we want to arrange to see each other ahead of time, we should be able to. I bet this happens all the time—people hit it off but they want to meet ASAP.
Stranger7721: I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet.
Stranger88: Technically we don’t have to… I’m sure we could figure something out. There’s got to be a way around the messaging parameters.
Stranger88: Are you a rule follower?
Stranger7721: I tend to be, yes.
Stranger88: Me too. It gets exhausting. But we’re both consenting adults. If we want to meet up, we should be able to.
Stranger7721: It’s hardly been a week. Isn’t this kind of fast? And doesn’t it defeat the entire purpose of the ninety day rule?
Still, the idea of meeting him sooner rather than later makes my heart kick it up a notch and sends a hitch to my breath.
I’m clearly under stress and not thinking straight.
Also, Stranger88 is my refuge from reality, but if we meet in real life, he’ll become a part of my reality and then I won’t have… whatever this is.
I type, erase, then retype words, to that effect, about five times. Doubt creeps in. Or maybe I’m simply trying to talk myself out of this. What if he’s been lying to me all along, catfishing me? What if all of this is just in my head?
Do you want to meet now?
I type the words, wondering what he’ll do.
BLIND LOVE’S terms of service state that if you violate their rules, they can immediately terminate your account. In a heartbeat, I could be disconnected from Stranger88 forever, without a chance to meet him or find out know who he truly is.
I can’t take that chance.
I delete the message.
Then I type in my phone number.
What if they have software that blocks emails and phone numbers? They probably do. So I delete that too.
Stranger7721: I need to think about it some more.
We should let things simmer for a couple more months. If I’m right, it’ll only get hotter, and we’ll be even more connected.
As I’m staring at the screen, waiting for his response, my phone buzzes with a call from the Women’s Center. It’s odd that they’re calling me this time of night, so I take it.
“Yes?”
“Hi, Tenley, it’s Francine, at the center. I hope I didn’t wake you?”
Wake me? It’s not even nine yet.
Actually, no, it’s after eleven. Where did the time go?
And my voice probably did sound rather breathless and out-of-it, the result of too many hot texts with my stranger. I swallow and try to sound more professional. “No, of course not. What can I help you with?”
“I just wanted to tell you that Rhonda called. She’s moving out of state.”
“What?”
“Yeah… apparently her boyfriend is moving to Alabama, and she’s going too.”
I let out breath. Rhonda didn’t have a boyfriend. At least, not last week. Or maybe she did, and she didn’t tell me about him. Maybe there were a lot of things she didn’t tell me. When I ask my clients to place her absolute trust in me, sometimes, they can’t do that. They’re ashamed of their behaviors, of the choices they made to put them in dire straits. I can just imagine Rhonda telling Francine this story. So happy and full of excitement for the future. But Rhonda didn’t tell me directly, because deep down, she knows what I’d say and she knows this is a bad choice and that I’d try and talk her out of it. Her resources are here. Her life is here. The only support she has is here. Moving out of state could set her back… or worse.