I continue my research after a nap. I'm surprised that my stomach isn't growling or hurting. I guess my determination is overpowering hunger. My mouth isn't dry, either. I should accept some coffee to stop mom from thinking the worst. And I could get out of this room. It's been almost two days now. I'll probably go out today. Or stay in until I miss human interaction. I've never been the type to shut myself in...literally. 

I usually don't hide. Not even as a teen. So, this is strange of me to do. But I guess it's better than knowing what everyone is thinking, what the media is saying. All the false information spreading like wildfire. I don't want to know. 

My mind sets back into work mode to avoid reality. I covered basically everything. I think I'm doing overkill with property searching. I'm sure that's something Jace will handle. I move from the bed to the desk, despite my thoughts. "Okay, let's get back to work." I power on the computer. The name, logo, and staffing are decent enough. 

The pay rate is a placeholder for now; I'm uncertain if $25 is laughable or not. The location is on hold too. The interior design was settled already. What else can I add to the list? I eye the paper full of notes. Maybe security and cafeteria services? I would want everyone safe and fed well. No matter their ages. The adult side will have a bar...and maybe a restaurant too. 

I jot down these ideas.

Security

Vetted professionals (required)

Cafeteria Service

Caterers

Lunch Aids

Food trucks? Maybe?

Vending machines? Maybe?

Bar & Grill

I run my hands through my sleek hair. Knocking comes from the door. Here goes another welfare check-up. I go to it. "Open," I demand, not knowing where to tap on the wall to open the door. It's my dad.

"Hey, princess." His brassy tone is inviting.

"Hey, dad, what's up?" I liven up my voice; knowing his worry is different from my mom's. He's my first protector, so he's probably feeling useless. This struggle is present in his eyes.

"I'm just checking in... I brought peach cobbler." He offers me a bowl of it.

"Oh, thanks, that looks great!" I smile.

"Your mom says you're doing business in here. I didn't know about the studio."

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you guys...Lily doesn't even know." I laugh. "It happened so fast."

"That's great news. We should celebrate with a toast later. If you're free."

"I should be."

"If not, we can always do it later. There's no rush." He looks down the hall. Almost as if someone grabs his attention. It must be my mom intervening, but I don't hear any footsteps. My dad registers whatever she's doing. I think mom is signaling something. When he looks back, he says, "oh...and about the park incident. Just know that we support you, no matter what." 

I needed to hear this. I need to know that someone is in my corner. "I know...but I don't want to talk about it."

"Again, take your time."

"Okay." He hands me the bowl and grins. "Thanks." Once back at the desk, I start back writing.

Employee Uniforms

Casual or formal?

Color coordinated with interior design?

Leotards?

The bowl of dessert doesn't hold my attention for too long. I debate if I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood for food. I'm sure I'm okay; nothing drastic will happen if I skip. I heard your body eats fat after a while. My muffin top could use some trimming. My parents don't need to surveillance me. I'm not dying; I'm just...depressed. I wish I didn't open the door. They keep bringing up the news... Why? Is it that bad of a report? 

I watch my phone for a few moments. I mean...I already know it isn't nice. So, I won't be surprised by how low the media will go. I type Madison Hart in the google browser, knowing it'll be less of a dumpster fire than twitter. The headlines state: 

MADISON HART HAS ANOTHER PROPOSAL. WHO IS THE MYSTERY MAN?

MS. HART SEEN AT LAPD DEPARTMENT AFTER GRAND PARK VIDEO.

JACE HARRISON'S JET SEEN LEAVING BLACKOUT MEETING WITH NASA.

Did he leave the meeting because of me? I hope not. I'd feel horrible.

MADISON HART, A TWO-TIMING FAMOUS SLUT!

I'm not a two-timing slut! How did that come about?! I walked away from Brad! Does the video imply something else??? I dare myself to look it up. The footage is everywhere. TMZ. Good Morning America. The Shade Room. Ellen. Wendy Williams. Seeing the confrontation from a different angle is odd. 

I waited on Brad and seemed inviting. I guess that's the confusion here. I thought his parents were hurt, so I wasn't mean right off. Even after I got mad, I stuck around too long exchanging words. Jace was right. Why didn't I leave? That's probably what every viewer is thinking. I even stayed put when he popped out the ring. But I was stunned by it, not tempted. I guess that got lost in translation. 

The moment of danger sheds light on how aggressive the attack could have been. Brad was about to punch me. I guess I panicked and missed this; his arm was cocked back. He was going to use brute force if Alonso and Michael didn't interfere. It could have been a deadly beaten...or one that left me badly bruised. 

I was fortunate to have security...because if they were absent, I'd be a stupid victim who allowed herself to be harmed. I gotta do better. Most importantly, I must follow my instincts always. I'll never second guess or push it away again. Starting now. I wanted to text Jace. I should. 

I exit the video and power off the computer. I end up pacing the room with my phone. I need to plan what to say. The ball is in my court. The only one who can make this right is me. Jace has been perfect. The one time I expected him of cheating was a misunderstanding. He only came home to me. He's incredibly faithful to be a former playboy. 

Jace has proven himself loyal. My thought of him being with another woman was irrational. Jace poured his heart out...and was the first to confess. He wants me as his wife. He's too perfect, and I'm too trapped in old times to join him. There is a part of me that still feels for Brad. Not in a romantic way, but in a once bonded sense. I can't undo our time together, no matter how it ended. Or how short it was. That time is part of my history.

Yes, I left him...and walked away for good. But the shared companionship is still present. Brad used it to manipulate me. It's a good thing he's behind bars, so that companionship doesn't complicate my life any further. I could start off the text saying all of this. Or should I call? The time is 11 pm. Jace might be sleeping...I don't want to wake him. I'll text. I go on pacing the room, typing on my phone. I condense my thoughts, so I don't send a super long text.    

JACE

FLASHBACK

I'm hoping the NASA board didn't revoke my partnership. I hurried from the conference after Alonso texted. The meeting banned technology use, everyone disconnected and powered off their phones. My phone was on vibrate for emergencies. I always have this setting. This might have cost me the deal. I did explain why I had to leave. 

Once again, I referred to it as an emergency. This excuse was accepted at the time, but I'm sure once I left, there were remarks about professionalism. The lack of agreement at the blackout conference must have been commented on. I stand before the wooden doors, prepping myself before going back inside. I fix my suit tie and clear my throat. 

Here goes humiliation. If there's a rejection coming, I hope it's blunt. I understand the choice. The worst-case scenario is losing the present business. I may be frozen out until trusted again.

I open the door, finding a full table of suited women and men. Ken and Lance, my backup, pass around binders of confidential space gear. Each member signatures next to 4D artwork of multi-leveled spacecraft and pods. Colored white and black as if from a science fiction movie. 

"Please excuse my absence," I speak regretfully. 

The man at the head seat waves dismissively. "Nonsense, you are excused."

I head to a seat on the opposite end. "Thank you. I don't usually skip out on business." I sit.

"We're aware of your track record. As you stated, there was an emergency." The head guy, a white-haired older man, grins lightly. "Rest assured; your co-managers have proven themselves valuable."

"Good to know."

Lance, a short man, eyes me. "We were just about to begin on The Aloha Fleet, sir."

"I'll take it from here, thank you." I push away all my raging thoughts concerning Madison. Business and home relations are separate. I act as if my day hasn't been destroyed. As if she didn't just break my heart. I switch off my emotions. "The Alpha Fleet, page 54. A fresh addition to the lineup." Everyone flips to the page, where a hyper-realistic fleet of oval spacecraft is displayed. "Fast travel pods, completely electric and solar based. No gas or rocket power. No over-cooling or heating. Hyper-durable and time efficient. The idea behind the crafts is to introduce space trips to commoners. Space rides long enough to incite yet short enough to ensure radiation safety. Think of an amusement ride but in space." 

"Hmm..." The lead comments. "Interesting. Has there been successful tests?"

"Yes. 250 total from a trial of normie volunteers."

A woman with violet hair leans forward. "Wonderful news....but how are we sure there won't be a leak of this discussion? You didn't shut off your phone. There's enough insight here to grant Blue Origin and SpaceX an upper hand." Her nasal tone is nagging.

"I assure you that all my devices are unhackable. But to ease your nerves, I'll abide by the agreement." I uncover my phone and power it off.

"Thank you." I knew there had to be judgment while I was away. Mrs. Boyle seems to be the only one not beating around the bush. "Now, please continue." The lady orders.

"The Aloha Fleet will only orbit the earth and remain far away from satellite and commercial stations. These trips will not interfere with any activities concerning your competitors."

"How many have been produced?"

"1,200...as of now. The reason behind the small count is to maintain traffic. A waiting list is also active to verify legal documentation and agreement."

The day is long. Longer than any day I ever worked. I keep looking at the clock. Time ticks slower than a second. Although I give nonstop presentations, this doesn't speed up the clock. Lecture after lecture on fortified space machines doesn't distract me enough. Daylight is everlasting for some reason. The high-rise office never dims...never shows a sign of the day wrapping. My voice drones on, clarifying the specs of the tech on each page of the binder. I find myself losing, slipping up. My mind drifts to the topic I thought I banned.  

Was I too mean to Madi? Was taking a break too much? I feel it was the only way to punish her. Sometimes people have to learn the hard way...with tough love. But was I too tough? I go on pondering even on the jet ride to the penthouse.  

FLASH FORWARD 

Seattle is gloomy and wet for the next few days. Light showers of rain drizzle, yet there's no thunder or lightning. The penthouse is minimalistic and mimics a greenhouse with its structure of windows covering the walls and ceiling. There's a metal staircase and roof beams. White furniture, rugs, and a fireplace decorate the entrance. The wood floors are black. The downpour outside splatters all the glass. "Fireplace," I say aloud in the empty house. The smart appliance lights.    

I've been alone these days...debating what I should do next. Once again, the old me would laugh at my seriousness. He would have never gotten so attached. My old self, my playboy self, would have a party of women in this lavish penthouse. Sex round after sex round. Instead, it's empty. Lonely. 

It's crazy how I feel incomplete. I miss Madi's presence. Her smile...and the way she twists her waist around. Her scent. The scent of an angel in the clouds. I can't imagine being with another woman other than her. Should I make amends? It's obvious that Brad orchestrated this, not Madi. She threw away the pin and erased him. She did that for me. I get a text from Madi. It's a long one. Something I'm not used to a woman doing. Fast texts are the usual for me...but I have no problem reading: 

I'm sorry. I should've never met up with Brad. I can't help that there's still a bond there. Not a romantic one, of course, after what he did. I guess I still care a little, but I love you, not him. I promise to do better and move on. Please forgive me. Brad planned this out; he manipulated me. I was too nice to my ex. I know better now.