10. Rachel
10
RACHEL
J ust when I thought I had made the whole thing up about my stalker, I saw him outside my apartment that morning.
Fuckity fuck.
He wasn’t even a good stalker. He was always wearing the same damn thing—a navy button-down shirt, tan pants, and that green Jets baseball cap.
After I got my results back that morning, I was skipping down my stoop, loving life, and that’s when I saw him. My first instinct was to run back inside, but the elation from earlier took over, and the next thing I knew, I was walking right over to him.
As soon as he realized I was coming, he took off. I chased after him, but I had my skates in my hands and my backpack on and I couldn’t keep up.
“Did you piss off some guy you know?” Eva asked. “A guy you’ve hooked up with or dated?”
“You shouldn’t blame the victim,” Ethan called from the kitchen where he was fixing us beverages.
I was at Eva and Ethan’s loft in Nolita. She had gotten back the night before, and as soon as she read my text that morning, she sent a car to take me to her place. That’s what happened when your bestie hooked up with a millionaire. You got a few perks along the way.
It reminded me of the time Eva’s cheating ex was in the hospital and all I had to do was send one text to Ethan and he had a car ready to take us to the hospital. This was before Eva and Ethan were together, but I was pretty sure he was already in love with her.
I sat on their plush ivory sofa in their spacious living room and looked out the floor-to-ceiling arched windows, the street below bustling.
“I’m not!” Eva called back and then turned to me. “I’m trying to figure out if you know the guy.”
“He looked old,” I said, remembering back.
Eva pulled my feet into her lap and massaged them, and the tension in my muscles melted away.
“You have a thing for older men,” Eva said.
“He’s grandpa old. But not frail. He practically sprinted when I chased him.”
“You what?” Ethan placed two cups of tea down on the coffee table, then settled in his beat-up Eames chair, sipping his espresso. “That’s really dangerous.”
“I’m not gonna let some old dude scare me.”
Ethan shook his head. “Let him scare you. It’s better than being dead.”
“Harsh.” Eva threw a pillow at him, and he caught it with one hand and shoved it behind his back.
“Seriously, don’t do that again,” he said.
“I sure have a lot of men in my life telling me what to do right now.” I blew air out of my mouth, my lips vibrating.
“Who else is telling you what to do?” Eva asked.
“Derrick. He’s got a savior complex.”
Eva smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
“I have a dozen texts from him responding to my group text about my results. You’ve seen them. You’re on the text. He’s probably blowing a gasket since I haven’t responded.”
Eva pulled a blanket over my feet and leaned forward, handing me my tea.
“Why haven’t you responded to him?”
“I don’t know. It got kinda weird. I was freaking out over the lump, and so he came with me to the appointment, and it was all strangely intimate. Like relationshipy.”
“God forbid you’re in a relationship.” Eva eyed me over her mug.
“We’re very much not in a relationship. I mean, I’d bang the guy. He’s hot. But I don’t think Derrick does casual sex. Plus, he’s my boss. So, yeah. Not going there.”
“Why are you scared of relationships?” Ethan asked.
“I don’t like to be tied down. I value my freedom.”
“You’re twenty-six. Do you really know what you want?” Ethan asked.
“Don’t patronize me, sir. I know exactly what I want. Enough money to comfortably live and travel a couple of times a year. Roller Derby until I die! And lots of hot, untethered sex.” I crossed my arms and stuck out my tongue. “That’s what I want. Oh, and to find out who the hell is following me around this town.”
“Did that officer find out anything?”
“Nah. I mean, I think he tried. As a favor to Derrick. But we have almost no info on the stalker.” I sat up straight, suddenly remembering something from that morning.
“What?” Eva asked.
“I think he’s Asian.”
“Who?”
“My stalker. He wore sunglasses and that hat, but there was something about his face structure. That’s what I picture when I see him in my mind. A short, Asian dude. Like East Asian.”
I picked up my phone and called Officer Lee. It went to his voicemail, but I told him what had happened that morning and this new clue.
“Do you think he’s Chinese?” Eva asked, perking up.
That would be interesting since I was half-Chinese, but I had no idea why it would make a difference.
“I didn’t get that good of a look, and I could be making it up. He was mostly covered up. But...” There was just something in my gut that told me this little nugget was important.
My phone pinged with three more texts. All from Derrick.
“I’m going into the Pilates studio. I’ve got to relieve Ginna.” I swung my feet to the rug and stood. In the kitchen, I put my mug in the sink. My skates were in the foyer, and I shoved my feet into them.
“I feel like you haven’t been at the studio much,” Eva said. “Is it still Gianna’s plan to hand you the keys when she retires?”
“I’m not sure it’s really what I want to do anymore. I’m really liking working at Dreamary. Not the job itself as much as the vibe.”
“Didn’t you used to dream of being a chef?” Eva asked.
“When I was like eighteen. And it wasn’t a dream as much as a delusion. I am a failure at cooking.”
My grandmother almost fainted when she realized I didn’t have a rice cooker. She loved me, but I was a total disappointment as a pseudo-Indian granddaughter.
“It’s not in my blood. Literally.” I slid my arms into the loops of my backpack. “I had to realize that.”
“It has nothing to do with biology. Your mom was too damn tired to cook, so why would you have learned anything? She was a single, working mom with brutal hours.”
“True.” I hugged Eva. “Gotta glide.” My phone pinged again, and I rolled my eyes.
“Derrick?” Eva asked.
“He needs to chill out. I only took the job for some extra money and now he’s all up in my biz, trying to save me or something.”
I pressed the button to their private elevator and skated in circles around Eva while I waited.
“You kinda love it.” The elevator chimed, and Eva smiled.
I groaned because she was right. As much as I waxed poetic about my independence, I had a daddy complex. There was this gaping hole that my subconscious wanted to fill since I never had a father figure in my life.
That didn’t mean I wanted Derrick. It just meant there was a reason I kept turning to him for help. A vomit-inducing reason that drove me crazy, but I couldn’t deny it: somewhere deep down, I wanted a strong man to love and look after me.
There, I said it. But if I ever found that man, I’d want the relationship to be on my terms without compromising who I was and my autonomy.
I had never met someone who could keep up with me, so I was happy enough with casual relationships. Marriage wasn’t for everyone, and I didn’t have to be married to have kids or anything if that’s what I wanted one day.
If it was meant to be and the guy could put up with my spontaneity and independence, then I wouldn’t say no to a relationship.
I was allowed to change my mind. I did it every day.