Chapter 4: The Morning After

I was woken by my phone buzzing on the nightstand like an angry wasp.

Natalie was still asleep beside me, unconsciously resting her hand on my chest, her hair spread across my pillow like spilled ink.

Last night... Jesus Christ, last night.

I only remember pressing Natalie against the door of my apartment, slowly and passionately kissing her like I was trying to memorize the taste.

She asked me, breathless: "Michael, shouldn't we drink first?"

I seemed to have replied, drunk on something stronger than alcohol:

"You are my drink. I'll go first."

Then I can't remember clearly. Just flashes—her nails down my spine, my name breaking apart in her throat, the taste of wine and want.

I squinted at the caller ID and pressed answer. Rachel Turner's commanding tone on the other end, sharp enough to cut diamonds—or prenups:

"Come pick me up at the dorm building in half an hour. I want to go shopping at Nordstrom."

I lowered my voice, not wanting to wake Natalie:

"What does your shopping have to do with me? Don't call and bother me."

After speaking, Natalie frowned lightly and whimpered unhappily, as if disturbed, pressing closer to me.

But this sensitive sound obviously reached Rachel Turner's ears. Her volume instantly rose to levels that could shatter wine glasses:

"Michael Chen, where are you? Is someone with you?"

"Is that any of your business? We have no relationship anymore." I kept my voice steady, controlled. I could hear her sharp intake of breath, like I'd slapped her with her own Amex Black Card.

I hung up and turned off my phone, tossing it into the drawer.

I pulled Natalie back into my arms, gently placing a kiss on her forehead, tasting the salt from last night's exertions.