"Valerie. It's Duke. You don't have to come to work today. I got a driver to take me to the signing," Duke's voice said through the voicemail machine.

I frowned, my eyebrows knotting.

This was the second week in a row he'd been calling me telling me not to come in to work. He kept making excuses, saying he got Patrice to take care of things, or he got a driver or someone else to do the work I was supposed to do. I hadn't seen him since the incident.

I knew I should have called him after it had happened. I should have called to talk to him, to sort things out. It seemed as though he was avoiding me. Scratch that. He was avoiding me. And he was doing a damn good job of it.

I hadn't seen him or talked directly to him in two weeks. And I knew that he tried his best to call my phone when I was asleep, so that I didn't accidentally pick it up and talk to him. But I wouldn't answer even if I did see the phone ring. I couldn't bring myself to face him.  And I knew exactly why.

I was afraid that if I went to talk to him, I'd get those feelings again; the feelings I got when he kissed me. I was scared. I didn't want to feel such strong emotion. I needed to focus, especially now with the job offer my parents had given me. I was coming to a crucial point in my career and I couldn't risk it by becoming romantically involved with someone.

But I was with Brandon, wasn't I? The good thing about Brandon, though, was that it didn't feel like a permanent relationship, even though it kind of was. Brandon was laid back. He wasn't the kind of guy that would call me constantly, asking to go on a date or hang out. He would let me be for a few days at a time. Sometimes we'd only see each other only once in a week.

So it was nice what I had with him. It was no strings attached. It was no complications. And that's exactly what I needed: an outlet to let out my sexual desires and a person to speak to about my problems. It was all the perks of having a boyfriend, but without all the drama.

However, I felt as if something had changed between Brandon and I lately. Ever since I had told him about the kiss--or kisses--he had been distant. In the past two weeks, I had only seen him twice, and once was the night I told him about the kiss. The other time, we had met for lunch, but he had to leave after about 30 minutes because he had 'business' to attend to.

So lately, I was stuck at home alone. Denise virtually moved out of our apartment. She and Jared were in full honeymoon love-mode; all they did was have sex and make-out. It got to a point where I would walk in on them going at it full-fledged on the living room couch. Having been disgusted by this, I told Denise that she needed to figure something out. Her solution was to move out temporarily. She'd stop by once in a while to check on me--make sure I had groceries and wasn't killing myself due to stress. Other than that, I'd sit at home and wallow in my self-despair.

I knew I should call Duke, but I just couldn't. The image of his face, so broken and hurt, was still etched into my brain. I couldn't tell him that it was a mistake again. One, because I couldn't bear to hurt him like that. And two, because I was starting to think that it wasn't even a mistake.

                                                    ~~~~~~~~

"Would you like green tea or the cinnamon?" I asked.

"I'm feeling the spice today. Make cinnamon," Patrice replied.

I set to work, adding the packet of tea into the already boiling water in the teapot. Then I turned and sat down on the chair opposite her desk. We both stared blankly at each other and I realized that I had been in this office too many times. I felt like I was a bad student who was always getting in trouble and being sent to the principal's office.

Well, at least that's what the situation felt like this time.

Patrice had called me late last night, asking me to see her in her office early that morning. I was supposed to be taking Duke to an interview, but he told Patrice to tell me he got a driver to take him. He said to give me the day off. Again.

That's right. Ever since I broke the kiss and left him, he hadn't said a word to me. He avoided me as much as he possibly could, which was a lot. I hadn't said two words to him since that day. He had somehow come up with excuses so that I wouldn't have to show up to work or help him out with anything. There was just no other explanation. He was upset and he didn't want to see me.

And I didn't blame him. What I did was wrong, leaving him like that. But kissing him was also not the right thing to do. And this whole complicated thing that was beginning with us had to stop. And it didn't seem like he was willing to let it go. So I had to, even if it meant hurting him. It was just too risky for the job. I couldn't give it up yet. Not so soon.

But at the moment, I knew why Patrice wanted to talk to me. She no doubt wanted to know why Duke had been acting so strangely and especially why he had been letting me off work for almost two weeks now.

"I think you're smart enough to know why you're here," Patrice spoke in her soft, slow voice.

I swallowed. I was never afraid of any of my preious bosses. I always held myself proudly and strongly and people respected me because of my parents. But Patrice couldn't care less. She would treat me the same way if I was from a poor family or the daughter of the Queen. That's just who she was. And this intimidated even me.

"You want to talk about Duke," I said in a somber voice. It was painful to say his name. Every time I did, I would have a flashback of his pained expression the day I left him standing there.

"Specifically, why he's been avoiding you," she clarified.

I knew I had to tell her. I had no choice. She would find out somehow, if not by badgering me, then by beating down Duke until he spoke up. I wondered if she had asked him yet.

"Things have gotten complicated between us," I said. She raised her eyebrows at me, her blue eyes glittering in interest and curiousity.

I heard the whistle of the teapot and got up to pour the tea into two little teacups. I handed her one saucer and placed the other in front of me. I pulled out the sugar cubes from a tray that was sitting on a shelf over the "tea station" as I called it. We sipped our tea quietly.

I felt very uncomfortable. I wanted to get out. My eyes scanned the room, but I knew we were on the upper level. Even if I did decide to jump out the window--which was my only way out besides the door--then I'd surely kill myself, which was not something I planned on doing.

"You're going to have to give me some more detail besides "it's complicated"," she said to me. I sighed and set my teacup on its saucer.

"Remember how you told me that it was all right if I became friends with Duke?" I asked her.

"Yes, of course," she answered.

"Well, I did. And it totally blew up in my face," I said. She gave me an inquiring look.

"How so?" she questioned.

"He kissed me," I said flatly. Her eyes widened behind her glasses. I was a little surprised. I didn't know her eyes could get that big. They seemed so small.

"He what?" she sputtered.

"He kissed me. Twice," I repeated. Her mouth opened slightly, agape.

"But-but why?" she asked. I shrugged.

"I think, by me opening up to him and making him feel comfortable around me, he took it the wrong way," I replied. She shook her head.

"This can't be..." she whispered.

"It is. The first kiss was supposed to be a joke. He was trying to make a point. But I guess it backfired. Then he kissed me again. And that time it was real," I explained. She was silent for a moment.

"And what about you?" she asked after a lengthy silence.

"Me?" I asked. She nodded, peering at me with a peculiar expression. I shrugged. "After the second time he kissed me, I walked away. I said it was all a mistake and that it was wrong. This is my job and he's the equivalent to a boss for me. I couldn't get further involved," I explained. "I think I hurt him by walking away," I added in a quiet voice.

"Did you respond when he kissed you?" she asked. Now I raised my eyebrows. This was starting to get a little too personal.

"I'm not comfortable answering that," I replied.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to. I need to know what exactly is going on so I know how to properly deal with this," she said.

I frowned.

What was I supposed to say to her? That I enjoyed it? That I responded to him eagerly? That I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss? That whenever I kissed Brandon, an image of Duke kept flashing through my mind? There was no way in hell I was going to admit to that.

"I did respond. But I was the one who broke it off," I said.

"And you haven't spoken since?" she asked.

"I tried calling him and texting him a few times. He never answered," I lied. I really wanted to get out of there. Fast. I prayed to God for a distraction.

She traced her lips with her index finger, deep in thought. She did this for a few minutes, her lips pursed, her face expressionless. Then she heaved a great sigh and I felt nervous all of a sudden. I felt dread creeping up in the back of my neck.

"I think--" she began, but there was a loud knock at the door. She blinked, her face changing from that peculiar expression to an irritated one.

"Who is it?" she shouted. The door opened to reveal Stan, an intern that wore skinny jeans, plaid shirts and thick framed glasses. Patrice put her fingers to her temples, clearly annoyed. "What is it Stan?" she asked.

"I tried calling, but it said the number was disconnected," he said. She glared at him from behind her glasses.

"I unplugged the phone. I'm in a very important meeting and I don't want to be disturbed," she said.

"Yeah, but, you should know, all hell just broke loose," he said in a calm voice, as if this was no big deal. Patrice, however, panicked.

"What do you mean?!" she exclaimed, standing up.

"Somehow, all of Duke's personal information was leaked: how much he's paid, where he lives, his phone number, e-mail, passwords, coff--" he began, but Patrice interupted him with a yell.

"What?!" she shouted, almost jumping across her desk to face Stan. "Where are you getting this from?" she asked him in a livid voice. I stood up, too, my heart rate accelerating."All of tha

"It's all over. People published it. E! News is doing a special airing tonight that's all about it," Stan answered.

"How could this have happened?! That information is classified! The only people that know about it are me and Valerie and that's because we've read the binder..." she trailed off and looked at me. I froze where I was.

The binder.

It had everything in it. His real name, numbers, contact information, address, parents' address. Everything there was to know about him was in there. And I had the binder. It was at my place.

So how could it have been leaked? The only people that knew about it were me and Denise. And seeing how Denise pretty much moved out to live with Jared in his apartment, it couldn't have possibly been her. And the only other person that had been inside my apartment was...

Brandon.

I felt my knees grow weak all of a sudden and held onto the desk for support.

He took it. There was no other explanation. It must have been that night I told him about the kiss. He must have been angry with me and taken it and released the information.

But it had been a week since I had told him. Why did he release it now?

Did he read through all of it first? What was he planning on doing?

I gulped at the expression on Patrice's face. If looks could kill, I'd definitely have died about a thousand deaths by now.

"The binder is at your place, Valerie," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

I swallowed hard and prayed to God in Heaven that it was at my place, although I knew in the back of my mind that it wasn't. I had left it on my bookshelf after opening it that first day when I read what his coffee preferences were and took down his contact information. I had never opened it after that, even though Duke told me to read it so many times.

"Valerie. Is the binder at your place or not?" Patrice asked, her eyes glinting in malice and accusation. I was really considering jumping out the window now. Maybe I could do a ninja flip and somehow land on my feet and run away...

"Valerie!" she shouted, bringing me back to my senses. I blinked at her, feeling my face losing color fast. My eyes darted towards the door that her and Stan were in front of. I could feel Stan's dark brown eyes on my face.

"I gotta go..." I mumbled, trying to slip between them.

"Valerie Sparks!" Patrice shouted, but I kept walking. "Valerie!" I heard her yell. I broke out into a full sprint towards the studio doors, running through them. I wasn't watching where I was going and crashed right into someone. We both shouted from the pain of the impact and I fell to the ground. I looked up through watering eyes to see the brick wall of a person I ran into. Once I looked up, though, I had wished I hadn't.

It was Duke.

I blinked up at him, my vision blurry from running into him so hard. He looked back at me, rubbing his chin, which was probably bruised if not broken. He looked hesitant, but then he reached down, offering me his hand. I reluctantly took it, mostly because there was no way I would be able to stand up by myself seeing as my head was spinning.

"Are you all right?" he asked me. I took this moment to quickly assess his expression. His face seemed somber. His eyes no longer had the boyish glint in them that I had been so used to. Instead, they were a dark navy color. His skin was a little paler than usual and he looked as if he hadn't slept for a few days.

"I'm fine," I managed to croak. We stood facing each other awkwardly. Part of me wanted so badly to apologize for everything I had done. But my more dominant side kicked in, telling me to keep my mouth shut. It was better this way.

There was a shout. Well, actually, there were several shouts. One was the inmistakable voice of Patrice, yelling my name. The other, was a mix of several voices, screaming Duke's name. I glanced in the direction of the cluster of voices and found that they were coming from a hoard of paparazzi.

"What the-" I started, but Duke grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the stampede. We slipped in through a door I didn't know even existed, which led to a dimly lit hallway. I scrunched up my nose. It smelled like a boys locker room, a mix of sweat and old cleaning product.

"Come on," he whispered, letting go of my arm and beginning to walk down the hallway. I followed him silently. As we walked down the hallway, it seemed the lights were becoming dimmer and fewer. We approached a door that was immersed in complete darkness. I only knew it was a door because there was sunlight streaming through the cracks. Duke pushed it open with a great heave and we walked out into a back alley way.

I was relieved to be out of that smelly hallway and into the cool afternoon March air.

"If you cut through the alley, you should get to the the left side of parking lot and then to the garage," Duke said to me, pointing with his finger, not meeting my eyes. I gazed at his face and then silently began walking the way he pointed.

I heard him sigh behind me as I walked and turned to look at him. His back was turned towards me and from what it looked like, he was holding his head in his hands. I felt a pang of guilt run through me. I wanted to go back and say something to him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

So I just kept walking.

______________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Ok, so I couldn't resist updating again. =)

What do you think will happen now? To all of you who suspected Brandon of something, you were right! Can't trust a lawyer!

So I have a test Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday next week. After that, I should be a little more available.

Leave me a COMMENT and VOTE!!! I took time out of studying just for you all!

XOXO