Dangerously Big by Cleo Peitsche

one, I figured I’d try a different tactic with you instead of starting another fight.”
    I blink. “Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. “So you know, I wasn’t trying to steal money from your uncle.”
    He glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m late for a meeting.”
    I watch him go, and I try to burn the memory of his scent into my brain. Despite the fact that he’s always been such a pain in the ass, I’ll miss him.

    ~ ~ ~

    I’m feeling unsettled as I make my way toward Romeo’s office. Tamara, his assistant, is at her station.
    “Is he…” Unable to trust my voice, I point at the closed door.
    “In the big conference room,” Tamara says. “Are you ok?”
    I nod.  
    “It’s awful what happened to you the other night,” she says. “You’re brave for even coming in today.”
    The big conference room is the one on the corner with two glass sides, and as I near, I see Romeo inside.  
    His brow is furrowed in concentration, and he looks upset about something in the pile of documents spread out in front of him. The other people in the meeting don’t seem as concerned, and I wonder why he can’t seem to relax.
    I watch as he flips a few papers over, then he asks for something. Sharon slides a paper down to him, and he skims it, then reads something aloud.
    I can’t help but smile as I watch him. This is how I want to remember Romeo. Competent. Surrounded by people who respect him.
    Also, not yelling at me for leaving.
    Technically I kept my promise to Hawthorne. I considered talking to Romeo. Maybe, if he weren’t busy… But he is.
    And I have an apartment to fit into a suitcase, a safe deposit box to empty, unexplored highway to travel to my next adventure, whatever it may be.  
    I start to turn, then take one last look at Romeo.  
    The woman who gets that man… I hate her, whoever she is, but I’m grateful if she can make him happy. He deserves that.

Chapter 12

    My car is in the garage, as promised. I slide behind the wheel and start the engine.
    The gas tank is full. Hawthorne must have topped it off. Kidnapper Joe wouldn’t have bothered if he planned to dump the car.
    My first stop is the apartment. I flirt with the security guard, tell him I’m worried that my ex is hiding in my closet. In the end, it’s not difficult to convince him to come up with me.
    My apartment is empty, and I see no proof that Kidnapper Joe or anyone else was inside.
    Bandit follows me around, his quiet meows like plaintive entreaties, telling me to stay, that I haven’t exhausted all my options yet.
    He would say that. He’s a cat, and he likes his routine, likes the windows and the warm sun. I liked my routine, too, my job, my secret dalliances with the bosses.  
    “Nothing lasts forever,” I tell him. He sits and stares reproachfully at me.
    I don’t have suitcases; they were abandoned when I fled the last place. So I fill up a few trash bags with my stuff.
    It has to be said that expensive clothing in trash bags still looks expensive. It just feels sacrilegious.
    My stilettos immediately want to punch holes through the plastic, but I do my best.
    Even with the new stuff for Bandit, everything I own fits easily into my trunk.
    I make two trips down, then come back up to put Bandit in his carrier. Before I zip the top closed, I stroke his soft fur.
    He looks up at me and meows.
    “Hey, I warned you that life with me would suck,” I tell him. Carefully, I close the top and slide the carrier’s strap over my shoulder.

    ~ ~ ~

    Twenty minutes at the bank, and I’ve cleaned out my safe deposit box.
    That’s it. I’m done. I’ve got everything I need in my car. I’ve got a full tank of gas.
    All I have to do is pick a direction and start driving.
    As I wind through the familiar roads en route to the highway, I try not to think about the fact that I didn’t get to see Slade one last time.
    Maybe it’s just as well. What the four of us were doing… It was surely destined for disaster, for