The St. Valentine's Day Massacre

I began noticing that Julie was texting somebody a lot, usually where I couldn't see what was going on. While it was none of my business, I had gotten used to not having secrets between us, so it was just a little annoying. She was single and she was entitled to a private life, whether I liked it or not. I did sort of worry that she might be getting involved with another loser like Harlan but again, it was not my business. She was an adult and it was her choice to make, not mine.

One afternoon toward the end of January, we were leaving work when she received another text. I managed to see it was from Elliott. Whatever he had to say, it made her really happy. She waited until we were in the car before she dropped a surprise on me.

"We're going out tonight." She was grinning like the Chesire Cat.

"Yeah, no." Two-year-old me decided to pitch a fit. "Not happening."

"Please?" She really turned on the charm. It didn't help.

"I really don't feel like it, Jules. Why tonight?"

"Because I want to thank you." I knew she was lying to me, which rubbed me absolutely the wrong way. There was obviously another reason and she didn't want to tell me. I figured it was Elliott.

"No, you don't. If you want to see Elliott, do it on your time, not mine." The lie hurt me more than I wanted to admit.

"Sonny, I swear it's not like that. Really." Her hand on my arm was soft and gentle. Gone was the giddy, happy-go-lucky Julie. "I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest. I promise I'm not seeing Elliott. I really need you to go with me. Please?"

I put up a bit of a fight but like always, she won in the end. I wasn't happy about losing and I had no problem with being passive-aggressive about it. It did not appear to bother her in the least, which just made me even more unhappy. What good is a tantrum if nobody notices?

We went to one of the nicer restaurants in town for dinner. I noticed that she brought her spy bag instead of the really nice clutch purse she usually carried when we went out. I tried to pretend not to notice but she eventually called me out on it.

"Yeah, it's the camera. Don't look around, Sonny. Just pay attention to dinner and our conversation, just like we were at home. You'd make a shitty spy, you know that?" Her teasing was good-natured.

Once I had figured out she wanted to come here for a specific reason, I was in a little bit better mood. "Maybe if you had just told me why we're here --"

"Because you would have been looking all over the place trying to see where they were. I wanted it to look like a coincidence if they spotted us, but if you're constantly turning your head around, it's hard to pull off. You suck at spying." I was left with a dilemna. I could fight the urge to swivel my head around looking to see why we were there or I could fight the urge to keep looking down her shirt. She had gone with a low-cut blouse that was loose in the front. It would sag open when she leaned forward, giving me a fantastic view of her cleavage and the now familiar blue lacy bra she wore.

Cleavage won. I actually wondered if she had chosen that blouse on purpose, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist looking. Yes, she was my sister. But boobs are boobs and hers were very nice. Besides, all I was doing was looking. It wasn't weird if I didn't make it weird.

We were almost done with the entree when she slid her spy bag from the table to her lap. From that point on, I wasn't fighting for her attention. She ordered dessert, which I ended up eating half of, and a glass of wine. Since I was driving, I stayed with iced tea.

Walking back to the car, her hand found mine. It struck me that this was now a common occurrence when we went anywhere. If we weren't holding hands, she wrapped herself around my arm while we walked. At first, I had just assumed it was because of the breakup and how she felt. Now I wondered if it was just habit. Again, it wasn't weird if I didn't make it weird.

It was much the same when we got back to the apartment. The stairs had been de-iced recently but she made a production out of walking carefully up the stairs holding my hand. We hung up our coats, she got comfortable, and we watched some TV before bed.

In what was becoming something of a habit, I was hugged and kissed on the cheek. "Thanks, again. I promise I'll tell you why soon but the less you know, the less chance you'll accidentally give it away." I still blushed a little when she kissed my cheek like that. I had been kissed before, obviously, but the kiss on the cheek was intimate in a way that kissing while trying to take DNA samples wasn't. I wasn't used to that feeling.

"No problem." Yes problem. Every time she did that, I would get a boner. Especially if she did what she did tonight, which was hug the hell out of me while doing it. I had gone from masturbating every few days to every other day, sometimes going through a stretch of yanking it every day during some periods.

It was symbolic of the conversation that I didn't want to have with myself. I could call what I was doing whatever I wanted, be it not interested in dating at all, not wanting to date while Julie healed, or the girls that seemed interested in me weren't my type. The truth was, it really felt like I was already dating. I missed the sex, obviously, but I liked spending the evening in with Julie. I liked the hugs and cheek kisses, I liked the sight of her wandering around the apartment in a well-worn T-shirt with or without panties and a bra. I liked going out, most of the time, with her on my arm.

If anybody else had described to me the things I was doing, I would tell them they were in love. I told myself I wasn't. I couldn't be. Eventually, she would begin dating again, find somebody she loved and loved her back, get married, all that good shit. I would too, when she finally left. I had no problem with conveniently ignoring the part of me that didn't want her to leave.

As Valentine's Day drew closer, the texting became more frequent. We were still getting footage from the breakroom, since the longer Ronald was the manager, the more relaxed Harlan and his friends became with their behavior.

Seeing that Julie still had an aversion to the breakroom, I was the one who placed and retrieved the bag daily. I had lost interest in the details a while ago, Julie would sometimes listen with her earbuds and text back and forth, I assumed with Elliott. I didn't ask, not because I didn't want to know but because I didn't want my feelings hurt.

I was also beginning to suspect that there was something else going on between them. Before New Year's, she might have gone to the gym by herself once a month or so on the weekend. She would be gone about an hour and a half, come back looking frazzled and sweaty, eat a little bit, and then take a nap. Between New Year's and Valentine's, it became early every Saturday morning and sometimes one or two nights during the week after work.

She was still friendly, still physically close, and nothing had really changed in the way she acted around me. I tried to look at it as spreading her wings, getting back into having a life of her own, and creating a little distance while getting me used to the idea. It wasn't working out too well, though.

Every time I saw Elliott, I couldn't help but wonder why he would choose now to cheat on his wife. She wasn't that much older than Julie, I thought she was attractive, and she kept herself in shape. I managed to stay civil when I dealt with him, but that was something I tried to avoid doing more and more. If he was aware that I was trying to stay away from him, he gave no indication of it.

Other than my jealousy, work was pretty routine now. The Monday before Valentine's Day, Julie announced we no longer needed the spy bags. For the sake of continuity, I continued to carry it for lunch. It was while packing the lunch bag with our lunch that I noticed her keys on the counter next to it. When I picked them up to move them, that was when I noticed that in addition to the little "J" charm she carried on it, there was now an "E".

The feeling in the pit of my stomach was worse than being kicked in the balls. I did my best to hide my disappointment and pain but she knew something was wrong. I gave her the excuse that I was just feeling down because of Valentine's Day, it had been a while since I had a girlfriend and I was just feeling "off".

Everything she did to try to make me feel better only ended up making me feel worse. We had just renewed the lease for another six months, which would be six months of hell waiting to see if she was going to leave. I had no idea how I was going to pretend to be okay with it. She had put all kinds of effort into healing from Harlan and she turned around and hooked up with a married guy who may or may not actually leave his wife when Julie put her foot down. I could tell myself I wasn't going to help her pick up those pieces but I knew I would, if I stayed here.

When Valentine's Day dawned, it was a cloudless sunny day. It wasn't bitter cold, not much of a breeze, just a totally beautiful day. For some reason, she seemed excited, in an understated sort of way. She was bubbly, all smiles, and in a hurry to get to work. I was none of the above.

Corporate of course had come in, Herman included, for the catered lunch buffet and social. The groups broke at 11:30 for lunch, leaving the part-timers to cover, and we all made our way to the breakroom. As my group slowly made its way down the hallway, Julie grabbed my arm and walked with me. I assumed it was because we were headed to the breakroom on the anniversary of one of the worst days of her life. I was having a totally shitty day.

Everybody served themselves from the buffet, groups were scattered all over the room at tables or standing in small clusters while they ate. When the TVs flashed on, I expected Julie to react but she didn't. She continued eating normally, talking with a couple of other supervisors.

The customary Valentine's photo montage started running, cute couples, the married employees and their families, the usual pictures. The music stopped and Harlan's voice filled the room. When I looked up, it was footage taken in this very room, I had no idea when, but the things he was saying about Corporate ... oh, shit.

Silence. A clip of Harlan dancing with Ronald's wife, his hands all over her ass. The two of them at the restaurant, hanging all over each other. It faded to a clip of Harlan bragging about how he fucked her up the ass during the New Year's party at her house. Ronald was violently jabbing at buttons on the remote, attempting to turn off the TV. It was mounted high up on the wall, too high to turn off manually or unplug.

Harlan then started on his friends, bragging about fucking their women behind their back while they were too stupid to figure it out.

People were staring at the screen the same way they stared at car wrecks, forkfuls of food hanging in mid-air. Some were holding their hand over their mouth in shock, eyes wide. It was graphic, it was vulgar, and it was totally captivating all at the same time.

Ronald started yelling to cut the power. Somebody shut the laptop off but the video continued. Harlan started talking shit about Ronald, Ronald talking shit about Harlan to his wife on the phone, his friends mocking Harlan's sexual prowess according to Amanda and vice versa.

I glanced at Julie. She appeared to be just as shocked as everybody else at what was happening, except for the little smile at the corners of her mouth when she caught me looking at her. Finally, the entire room went dark as somebody found and tripped the circuit breaker.

A scuffle broke out in the dim light of the emergency lighting. When the lights came back on a few minutes later, Ronald and Harlan were being restrained, both bloodied. A couple of Harlan's former friends were surrounded by their friends, presumably to keep them from finishing what Ronald started. The only way to describe Harlan's expression was cornered and desperate.

The folks from Corporate were beyond angry. Harlan and Ronald were escorted to the large conference rooms separately while Amanda and "friends" were taken to the small conference room. Herman cornered the two of us in the breakroom.

"Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with that." Herman was not a happy man.

"Nope." Julie was emphatic. "They did that to themselves, Herman." I don't think Herman believed a word of it.

Herman looked at me and all I could do was just shrug my shoulders. I had naively assumed that the video and audio collected would be sent only to those jackasses so they would turn on each other. I had no clue this was going to happen. I still felt guilty, I helped collect that footage.

Herman looked at us both for a few moments. "If you were involved, Corporate is going to find out and you'll both be out of a job. For your sake, I really hope you're telling me the truth." His phone buzzed with a text and he left.

Everybody was instructed to return to work. As expected, the rumor mill was working overtime. At intervals, people would be called into the smaller conference room to meet with Corporate. At 3:15, Herman messaged us not to clock out at 3:30 but to come to the small conference room for our turn.

What struck me as strange about the entire process was the fact that we were never directly asked if we did it. They wanted to know what kind of network access we had, if we had ever found ourselves somewhere on the network where we didn't belong, if we had file sharing access, that sort of thing. Basic stuff that IT should have been able to answer. They obviously asked if we knew or had heard anything about who might be responsible. We denied any involvement with the video and promised to let Herman know if we heard anything.

Herman again warned us that we would lose our jobs if they found out we lied about having anything to do with what happened and that IT would almost certainly find proof of our guilt if that were the case.

We had to provide IT with our logins and passwords so our computers could be examined. Since there was nothing to find, it didn't take long. By the time we left at 4:30, the people from Corporate were still angry.

On the drive home, Julie kept trying to start a conversation but I didn't feel like talking. On top of knowing she was in love with somebody else, even though we could never be together, I felt misled about what the stuff we recorded was going to be used for. I wasn't kidding myself, I knew revenge was involved and I had been all for it, just not that way. As much as I disliked Harlan, Ronald, Amanda and their friends, I had seen firsthand what shit like that did to somebody.

She was still trying to get me to talk through dinner, which I barely ate, and sitting on the couch. I pretended to read and she watched whatever it was she had on. By bedtime, she had stopped trying to engage me in conversation, seeming to be content to lean against me.

When we stood up, she gave me her usual hug and kiss on the cheek. I felt nothing but sadness and I gave her a half-assed hug in return. She gave me a funny look and quietly said "Goodnight," disappearing into her room and shutting the door.

I had finished up in the bathroom and climbed into bed when my bedroom door opened and Julie quietly came in. She sat down on the edge of the bed and asked, "What's wrong, Sonny? You haven't said much of anything all day. Did I do something?"

I lay there for a minute or two, thinking. "The stuff we recorded. I didn't think you were going to do that."

She sighed. "I wanted justice. I wanted to hurt them just like they hurt me. But that's not the problem I'm talking about. You've been like this all week. Why?"

What could I say? "I'm just having a hard time with Valentine's Day this year. I'll get over it." Maybe. Someday.

It was her turn to sit quietly while she stared at her feet. "I need to tell you something, Sonny. I'd like for you to hear me out first, please?" Her hand found my leg under the blanket and she squeezed.

"Okay." This was going to be the news I was dreading. I tried to steel myself for it.

"I'm in love with somebody I shouldn't be. I don't know how to tell them because I don't know how they feel."

"You're asking the wrong person, Jules. I don't know shit about love." I didn't want to hear about Elliott. Not tonight. Not ever, really.

"Who should I be asking?"

"I don't know, maybe Elliott." That shot out of my mouth before I could even think about stopping it.

"Elliott? Why would I ask him, Sonny? Is that who you think I'm talking about?" Her tone sharpened and I knew I hit a nerve. This was the part where she was going to defend him.

"Why not? You've got his initial on your car keys. That's the only person whose name I can think of that starts with 'E'."

She laughed. She sat right there on the edge of my bed and laughed at me. "Elliott is not the only name that starts with 'E', Emerson." I hadn't heard that sarcastic tone in a long time.

If you have never had your brain do a hard reset, thank your favorite deity. I couldn't believe my ears and it took me a minute to make my voice work, "Wait, what?"

A soft smile spread across her face. "I wasn't talking about Elliott, Sonny. He's a nice guy and all, but he's married with a couple of kids. Allie's been my friend for years. I'm talking about you.

"When I showed up here a year ago, you helped me no questions asked. You slept on the fucking floor for me, put up with me while I went through hell, and you never complained once. There were days where I wouldn't have gotten through it without you."

Julie turned and leaned toward me, her arms on either side of mine. She definitely wasn't wearing a bra as her breasts swung with gravity, her nipples tenting the fabric. "I remember going to your games in high school, even after I graduated. I loved watching you play because you never quit. I think I knew when I came here that night that you wouldn't quit on me, either. And you didn't.

"After what happened in the breakroom, when I came back, all these women kept telling me how lucky I was to have someone like you looking after me. Then they wanted to know if you were seeing anyone. That's when I noticed how you treat everyone. Harlan was never, ever like that. I couldn't help what happened next. I kept getting closer and closer to you. I woke up one morning and realized I was in love. With you. And you were acting like you might feel the same way."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to admit she was right but it was still wrong.

"I know you would think what I did was wrong. That's why I didn't tell you what I was actually going to do. You would have tried to talk me out of it and probably given it away."

She looked at me expectantly. This was something I could give an opinion on. "I don't agree with the way you did it. That fucked you up hard and I wouldn't wish that on anybody. I understand why, I just don't agree with the how."

"I know. But to get back to you, I was afraid to say anything to you about how I felt because of what might happen if I was wrong. I knew something was eating at you all week. I thought it might be me. Maybe because it's Valentine's and I'm cramping your style."

"I thought you were having an affair with Elliott. The initial on your keyring, the taking off to go to the gym more and more, the texting back and forth. It all made sense to me."

She blushed a little and began stroking my arm, hand on top of the blanket. "The gym? Oh, no, that was something else entirely." She gave my biceps a hard squeeze. "I was taking care of a personal problem."

"Okay." I was clueless about what kind of personal problem required a special trip to the gym.