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Blackout - Chapter 3
Published Mar 29, 2012


Written By

kelleyj17

Storyteller
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Recap:

Between black holes in her memory, Carolyn finds herself in inexplicable situations, too embarrassed to ask anyone to help her fill in the blanks. She has a run-in with a frightening man who mistakes her for someone named Theresa, and is rescued by her playboy co-worker. To her surprise, he does not live up to his reputation and she finds herself falling for him against her better judgement.
****************************************************************

Thanks for reading and commenting. And as always, thanks to the incredible CC creators that add so much color to my stories!

Recap:

Between black holes in her memory, Carolyn finds herself in inexplicable situations, too embarrassed to ask anyone to help her fill in the blanks. She has a run-in with a frightening man who mistakes her for someone named Theresa, and is rescued by her playboy co-worker. To her surprise, he does not live up to his reputation and she finds herself falling for him against her better judgement.
****************************************************************

Thanks for reading and commenting. And as always, thanks to the incredible CC creators that add so much color to my stories!
After my dramatic Monday night, I bury myself in my work for the week. I have a deadline coming up, and I’ve hardly seen Sean at all. Of course he’s drifted into my thoughts several times, but I impatiently push him out. Mid-afternoon on Thursday, he strolls into my office. “Have you moved from this chair at all today?”

I respond without looking up. “Uh no, I’m too busy.”

“Did you even have lunch?”

“I’ll eat some Chex Mix or something.” I continue typing, but my fingers slide off the keys as he spins my chair around to face him.
“Come on, Carolyn! At least take a quick coffee break. You’ve been glued to your desk for days. It’s not healthy for you to sit here staring at your monitor all day.” He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet.

“Sean, don’t! I have to finish—“

“Fifteen minutes,” he cuts me off. “We’ll walk to the coffee shop around the corner, get some fresh air, and you can go right back to work. It’ll be good for you.”
I consider it as he pulls me up. He's put on his puppy dog eyes, the ones that make women want to take him home and feed him. He must know how irrisistable they are. I find my resolve wavering. He’s right; I’m exhausted.

“Fine. 15 minutes, no more.”

He grins triumphantly and pulls me out into the bright sunshine.
I have to admit, it feels great to be outside. The sun warms my skin after the chill of the air conditioned building. Sean talks animatedly all the way there about the ideas he has for a tree house he's building for his nephew. He sounds like a big kid himself. His enthusiasm is contagious and soon I'm smiling too. The bell rings over the door of the coffee shop as Sean opens it for me. It's a cozy little shop, built like a log cabin and filled with the enticing aroma of gourmet coffee. I study the sandwich board of available flavors as the cashier greets Sean. He's obviously a regular. "Hey Sean, the usual?"

He nods and I order a cinammon whipped cream latte.

"Hey, your girl's got good taste," he says, grinning and looking me up and down.

"Oh, I'm just a colleague," I say quickly.

"Reeeeally." He smiles wider and leans against the counter.

Sean scowls at him. I'm getting uncomfortable with the way he's staring at me; he hasn't even moved to make our drinks.

Sean clears his throat. “She’s unavailable," he says flatly. "How much for the coffee, Joe?” I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard him irritated. Interesting.

Joe is unruffled, but at least he starts to make our coffee. “Eight simoleans.”

Sean reaches in his pocket. Then his other pocket. A nervous look crosses his face.
“Oh.. crap. I can’t believe it.”

“Problem?”

“I uh… I left my wallet back at the office.”

I had planned for paying for my own coffee anyway, so I'd brought money, but I can’t miss the opportunity to razz him a little. I give him the angriest scowl I can muster. “Oh, I see how it is. Well, at least now I know why you asked me out for coffee.”
“No, no, no. Oh, jeez, Carolyn, I’m so sorry. I thought I had it with me and.. this isn’t working out the way I planned at all.” He mutters the last part under his breath.

He looks so miserable; I finally can’t hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, Sean! Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for it.”

I hand a few bills to Joe.

“No, that’s not cool. I invited YOU out.”
“Oh. Well then do you have a better idea?” I ask him seriously. “Are you gonna pay for it with your good looks?”

Wow. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Open mouth, insert foot.

Joe pauses with the money in his hand. I didn’t realize he was still listening. “Sean? No. You, on the other hand.. well, we might be able to work something out.” He runs his finger down my arm as he says it.

Wow. Did he try to make that come out as sleazy as it sounded? I have no idea how to respond. I mean, I’m the geek chick. This never happens to me. So I’m sure he’s just doing it to annoy Sean, but still. AWKward!
Sean grabs both of the coffee mugs from the counter and shoots Joe a nasty glare. Joe holds his hands up in front of him. "All right, sorry dude. Off limits. I got it."

Normally I'd be annoyed at someone else trying to decide who I should or shouldn't date, but the slime rolling off of Joe is so thick that I'm grateful to avoid the conversation. He doesn't seem like the type to pick up subtle hints.

Sean apologizes again as we walk over to a table to sit down. “I feel really bad, Carolyn. It was supposed to be my treat. I’m not usually this much of a bum.”

I have to laugh at how worked up he is over this. “Don’t worry about it, Sean. You can pay me back some other time.”
He’s silent as we sip our coffee. Then he says boldly, “How about tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, whenever. Wait, what?”

He grins and runs his hand through his hair nervously. “I feel like a jerk. I want to take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”
Ok, I’ll admit, I’ve been fantasizing about this since he played my white knight on Monday, but I was sure it was entirely one sided. Besides, he’s such a player. What could he possibly want from boring old me? If he thinks I'll be another one of his conquests, he's in for a rude surprise. I open my mouth to tell him I don’t think it’s a good idea, but the words that come out are “Sure. I can be ready by 6.”

What the heck? Have I completely lost my mind? I give myself a mental face palm.

Surprisingly, he's easy to talk to and we've been chattering comfortably for a while when I notice that it's gotten dark outside. I look at his watch. It's after 6:00!

"Oh shoot! I was only supposed to be gone for 15 minutes!"

"Oh.. sorry," he says. But he smiles. He doesn't look very sorry.
Friday night, I take more care than usual with my appearance. The entire time, I’m scolding myself. “This is so stupid, I don’t know why I’m bothering. There’s no way I’m getting involved with him. I’m just letting him get his debt off his conscience.” But I continue applying my makeup in the mirror. At 6:00 on the dot, the buzzer rings. I press the button. “I’ll be right down,” I say. I grab my purse and head to the elevator. All my life, I’ve wanted to make one of those grand entrances I see in the movies. I’ll glide down the sweeping staircase, glowing, while everyone stands at the bottom of the stairs with their mouths open in awe.

Well, an elevator doesn’t lend itself very well to that fantasy, but I’m willing to improvise. The doors slide open and I toss my hair back, preparing for my grand entrance.
Which is going great until I trip over my own feet. Of course Sean is standing right there so he catches me before I land on my face. I quickly stand myself up and try to pretend nothing happened, walking briskly toward the front door. He has this amused look on his face, obviously enjoying my embarrassment.

“Y’know, Carolyn, you don’t have to keep throwing yourself at my feet to get my attention. You've got me all night.” I scowl at him and he smiles even more. “You’re so cute when you try to be angry.”

I sock him in the arm as hard as I can and he laughs even harder. But as I turn around to stalk out the door, I see him rub the spot where I punched him.
The restaurant he picks out is comfortable, but not too fancy. Unfortunately, the service is terrible. The waiter takes 20 minutes before showing up to take our order, and it’s nearly an hour before he brings it. By then I’m famished, but my steak is dry and tough. I make a valiant effort to saw through it while Sean eyes his plate suspiciously. He takes a bite of his unidentifiable food and almost chokes on it. “Ugh. These cooks ought to be fired. Or shot. Or fired and then shot.”

I snicker. “And I suppose you can do better?”

He raises an eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, I can.”

“You cook? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

I should have known Sean couldn’t resist a challenge. He throws a few simoleans on the table and stands, offering his arm to me.
We’re riding in his car when I realize that his cooking means we’re going to his place. That was smooth, Sean. Brilliant. He pulls up to a beautiful house with huge bay windows overlooking the ocean. He presses in a code to open the gate and drives in. Jacuzzi, pool, theatre room – remind me again why I live like a pauper? The inside is amazingly clean for a bachelor pad. He must have Sim Maids come in. The furniture is classy and elegant, tastefully decorated.

In the corner stands a giant book case filled with thick volumes and knick knacks. I wander over to check out the titles while he digs in the fridge and begins pulling out ingredients. There are a lot of classics and a few self-help books. I come across a title about dating advice and suddenly feel like a snoop.

I wander back into the kitchen. “Can I help?” I offer.

“Nope. I’m proving to you that I can cook. After forgetting my wallet and then taking you to a bad restaurant, I have to find some way to redeem myself.”
“And you think one good meal will make up for all of that, plus your sad gaming skills?” I tease, taking a seat at the table to watch him.

He laughs. “What? What do you know about my gaming skills?”

“HardWire?” He looks at me, surprised I know his screen name on SimHalo. “I’m HighStrung. You know, the one that's always stomping you?"
He shrugs and looks up at me. “Yeah, well… it goes against my principles to shoot a girl. Can’t do it.”

“Is that so?”

He grins. “That’s so. It’s my fatal flaw.”
We keep up the banter as Sean chops and dices, sizzles and stirs. It’s actually quite impressive, almost mesmerizing how quickly and smoothly he moves. I find myself wondering if he would be that smooth on the dance floor. Or anywhere else.. He moves to the stove and begins frying some salmon. He flips the fish, catching it behind his back. What a showoff.

I need to feel somewhat useful, so I begin pulling out dishes for us to set the table. I turn around to find him right in front of me.
He takes the plates from my hands and puts them aside, then puts his hands on the counter on both sides of me. He whispers, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

Pulling me close, he leans in slowly and I close my eyes. I let myself get caught up in the moment. It’s the most amazing feeling.
He gently kisses me, then trails his lips down the side of my neck. I dig my fingers into his shoulder and suck in a sharp breath. Vaguely I hear the voice in my head going on about logic and that I’m not thinking clearly, but I blithely ignore it until it gets louder and louder and finally screams “STUPID GIRL!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" The fog in my mind clears and I push him away.

He reluctantly backs up.

“Umm, the food,” I stammer. “It’s going to burn.”
He quickly turns back to the stove to flip the fish.

“May I use your bathroom?” I ask quietly. I need to put some space between us.

“Sure. Second door on the left,” he says, pointing down the hallway.
Inside the bathroom, I stare at my reflection and try to slow down my breathing. This can’t happen. This is Sean, and I can’t trust anything he does. He knows just what to say to win a girl over, and then he gets tired of the game. I will not be that girl. By the time I come out of the bathroom, I've collected myself. The table is set and the food is ready. I sit down as he uncorks a bottle and fills two long-stemmed glasses. He smiles at me as if nothing happened, and I gratefully play along. I take my first bite and close my eyes to savor the taste. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve tasted in my entire life. I involuntarily moan out loud. Oops, I guess I tipped my hand. I open my eyes to see him watching me carefully. I shrug. “It’s not bad,” I say casually. “Not bad? Do you always react that way when something's 'not bad'? I'd love to see what you do when something is really good.” He grins wickedly.

My face is on fire. “Fine, it’s really good,” I admit. “Where did you learn how to cook?”
The smile fades and he gets a faraway look on his face.

“I’m the oldest of 6 kids. My mom died when I was 12 and my dad worked two jobs to try to keep food on the table. We didn’t usually have much, but I needed to make sure my little brothers and sisters ate enough. So I got creative with whatever we had. I read some books and experimented a lot. Most of the time it was even edible,” he says, smiling.

As much as Sean has surprised me in the last week, my perspective is blown away with this glimpse into his childhood. We spend the rest of the meal talking about our families and where we grew up. I can’t help thinking that maybe I judged him wrong. Maybe I should give him a chance.
When we finish eating, I bring my dishes to the sink to rinse. He comes up behind me and slides an arm around my waist. The stubble on his chin tickles my neck and his breath is hot on my cheek. A part of me wants to surrender and just see where the night takes me, but another part of me is frantically setting off the alarm.

“So,” he whispers. “Are we even? Did I make up for my utter lack of social grace and gaming skills?”

I lean back against him and sigh. “Mmm. I'm not sure. What else can you do?”

I'm shocked at my audacity. Am I actually FLIRTING with him? I start to feel numbness with the familiar panic.
************************************************************************
I feel so warm and cozy here. I don’t know what woke me, but I keep my eyes closed and start to drift away again. This blanket is so soft. This arm around me is so comforting.

Wait a minute, ARM?!
I jerk awake and fall on the floor with a loud *thunk*. I sit up and see Sean, still asleep on the couch right next to where I used to be. I start to panic. What have I done? Did I black out again? No. No, it’s fine. I just fell asleep. We both fell asleep. That’s all. I glance at the clock. 4:00 am. I can’t stay, but I can’t wake him and ask him to drive me home, either. Not without getting my head straight. No problem for an independent girl like me; I take the subway everywhere.

I scribble a note to Sean to thank him for the evening so he doesn’t freak when he wakes up and I'm not there, and slip silently out of the house.
The early morning air is crisp, and reminds me that I’m still wearing my little skirt. I jog to the nearest subway station. Trains come every few minutes, and there’s already one there when I arrive. I’m heading for the doors when a man blocks my path with a big grin on his face. “Theresa. It’s been a while. I missed you, baby.”

Just hearing her name makes me start to get nervous, but I remind myself that he hasn’t really done anything threatening. Every person she knows isn't automatically a sleazebag. So I take a deep breath and calmly say, “I’m sorry, I’m not who you think I am,” and step around him.

He steps in front of me again. “Ooh, I love it when we play this game.”

I sigh loudly. “I’m not pl—“
He grabs me roughly and pins me against the wall before I can finish my sentence. My stomach turns with the putrid smell of decay and bad hygiene as I try to catch my breath.

Panic starts creeping in around the edges. Why didn’t I just wake Sean up to drive me home? My limbs tingle as they start to go numb, and all I can hear is the hammering of my heart slamming into my chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid Carolyn! He’s much bigger than I am, and there’s not another soul around at this time of night.
I bring my scattered thoughts together and try logic again. "You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not Theresa."

I try to keep my voice steady, but fail miserably. He laughs, displaying stained brown teeth.

What can I say to convince him I’m not playing a game? That I’m not that girl? “Please..” I whisper. A tear slips down my cheek.
He puts his mouth up to my ear. “Oh don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you, just like I always do.”

Then I start to feel a strange emotion coursing through me. Anger. A voice inside my head echoes, stronger than my own. 'No. I don’t need someone to take care of me.'
With a burst of strength, I shove him back and administer a perfect roundhouse to the gut. He stumbles back with an “Oof!” and collapses to the ground. I have no idea where I learned how to do that, but I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed with myself. He makes no attempt to get up or even look at me, just holds his stomach and groans. I straighten my clothes and say quietly. “I am not Theresa. I’ve never seen you before in my life. But I trust that if you see her again, you won’t treat her like that.”

I run into the subway and jump on the train just before the doors close.

I know I should be shaken up, but I feel strangely powerful.
Half an hour later, I unlock the door to my apartment, thinking about Theresa. That’s the second time I’ve been mistaken for her. She must look an awful lot like me. But judging by the way her acquaintances treat her, we couldn’t be more different.

My head is spinning with thoughts of this strange man, this strange girl, and Sean. I collapse into bed, exhausted.
Theresa:

Carolyn doesn’t know me, but I know her. I know what happened to her when she was a teenager. I know why she’s scared to let anyone get close to her. And even though she will never see me, I will ALWAYS protect her.

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11 Comment(s) so far


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#2fruitopiaVIPMar 29, 2012

Open mouth insert foot, \:D

#3NifiraMar 29, 2012

I love this story! I'm definitely looking forward to the next chapter, I want moarrrr :3 so gripping! \:wub\: 

#4keishafellerMar 29, 2012

Waow! Just.. waow! And the kick she gave him!

#5Mar 29, 2012

bam great kick...keep more chapters coming.

#6gmanzombieMar 30, 2012

cool

#7annabel_leeMar 31, 2012

Great Story!!!

#8fabrizioammolloMar 31, 2012

It seems that Carolyn developed multiple personality disorder. As if part of her mind (I suspect that in her case the "voice in her head" isn't just a metaphor) feels that she can't deal with her life but herself and she needs someone else help.

#9DianeHannaVIPMar 31, 2012

This is getting really exciting! I love a mystery.

#10taxa08Apr 1, 2012

\:wub\:

#11Sims2Fan369Apr 20, 2012

Great story! Anxiously awaiting the next chapter.

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