Chapter 5 – Amanda
Knuckles rapped on the glass wall of my office. I snapped upright and met the smiling face of my boyfriend.
Fiancé.
Steven pushed through the door, an avocado-green polo hugging his body and a bright white sweater tied around his neck to hang off his back. He was the picture-perfect rich boy, wearing the designer look with an effortlessness that would make most women drool.
“I finished my squash game early, and then I thought to myself, why not take my girl out on the town tonight?” Steven dropped into the rolling chair across from me.
I flicked a glance at the clock. Crap. It was already six-thirty.
After finishing the depositions, I meant to take a few hours to prep for Monday before heading out early enough to go to the precinct about the messages on my phone.
I was now hours deep in preparing for the trial, and the main office at the police headquarters—which I was familiar with from the few cases that required delicate handling—was closed.
Reporting the text messages would have to wait.
A lump of guilt settled in my stomach. Normal couples would probably discuss the fact that one of them was being stalked. I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth and admit to this man what had happened.
So, I swallowed it.
Besides, I didn’t need him taking care of me. I could look after myself. And first thing Monday, I would tell the authorities about my little problem, and then the matter would be finished.
“Earth to Amanda? What’s on your mind, love?” Steven tipped his head to the side and studied me. His blond mustache twitched, but his eyes were hard. Something unspoken lurked behind the bright orbs.
Saying the first thing that came to mind, I blurted out, “What did my father mean about the inheritance terms and conditions?”
Silence beat like a war drum.
Steven rose and shut the glass door. As he returned to his seat, someone walked past in the hall. So focused on the situation, I only caught a wisp of black. It took my frazzled brain a second to realize no one in their right mind would wear a leather jacket in June, let alone in the offices.
My skin prickled with electricity.
“I need to be married to become the next Earl of Heartdown,” Steven explained. “I did mention that.”
I tore my gaze away from the glass wall and stared.
“But it doesn’t mean anything,” he insisted, voice hitched with panic. “I was going to propose by October at the latest. This just—” he shrugged “—sped the process up. Your father advised me to propose immediately.”
My head pulsed with a lingering headache, but I resisted the urge to drop it in my hands.
Drawing myself up straight, I contemplated the offer before me.
Did this change anything? I already said yes, because, well, I was selfish.
I wanted to be married. To have that achievement of a good match under my belt. It seemed Steven was selfish, too.
“What will my duties be as your wife?” I wanted everything in the open. No more surprises.
“We’ll be required to make a few public appearances, but otherwise, you can continue as you have been.” He was beginning to smile again. “I’ll have my tech company to run when I’m not busy being a lord of the land.”
“And what about assets?” I rubbed my thighs under the table. “Should we discuss a prenup?”
“That’s being handled by your father.” Steven laughed, ease once again flowing through his posture. “As long as we marry by the end of the month, it’s all set.”
The end of the month.
The earth tilted. I gripped my desk for balance.
That was two weeks from now.
“Excuse me?”
Steven’s face scrunched up. The light hairs on his lip wrinkled. “Didn’t your father tell you?”
He most certainly did not. Neither did his secretary’s assistant, but I should have guessed there were special circumstances since she wanted me to drop everything and contact a wedding planner.
This was just another business arrangement.
An ache clenched my chest.
But I wasn’t listening to my body. As usual, my mind won. This was reasonable. Steven wasn’t going to force me to stop working. I wouldn’t have to move to England. In fact, from the sounds of it, precious little was going to change.
What was I doing resisting this?
I wasn’t getting any younger. In his own way, my father approved of the match.
Maybe being settled was the best possible scenario?
My gaze dipped from the smiling, pretty face down along the polo that hugged his toned, athletic body.
There was zero reaction. No urge to rip his clothing off and have him bend me over the desk.
Marriages have been built on less.
“Alright, Steven, but let’s not do the big wedding scene,” I negotiated. “A justice of the peace will take care of the legal matters. And I’ll find a weekend to come to England and sign whatever is necessary to secure the estate.”
His puppy dog eyes drooped. “Really, love?”
The nickname made my shoulders itch.
“I was kind of imagining you in a frothy white gown, walking to me over red petals. The works,” he pleaded his case.
That tone…yuck. I blanched. I knew he came from money, but the petulant rich-boy side was not endearing.
“I’m not doing the cupcake gown, Steven. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Can we compromise?” His grin would probably melt the panties off any of my friends. To me? It felt wrong. “A small ceremony at the Anglican Church back in Boston.”
I tried not to let the way he was acting bother me. Plus, it was such a small request. And unlike my parents, I only planned on doing this once.
“No rose petals.” I pointed a finger at him. “No flowers.”
I hated them with a passion. A distant memory bubbled up, vibrating pain through my already aching head.
“Come on, Amanda, everyone has roses at weddings.”
“No.” My voice hardened. “And don’t send me any, either.”
He winced. “I wouldn’t. I know you hate them, but bloody hell. I had no idea how much.”
“Sorry, just—” I drew a deep breath through my nose. “No flowers.”
“But it’s a wedding. There are expectations.”
He continued to protest, as a black shape crossed the hall in front of my office. I cut a look, but it wasn’t fast enough. Jumping out of my chair, I went barefoot to the door and flung it open.
The man in the leather jacket turned the corner at the end of the hall.
There was something achingly familiar in those broad shoulders. I had to know. I had to—
The back of my neck tingled.
Because my shoes were tucked under my desk, I didn’t dare rush out there. I was just about to go get them when a peeved voice sounded behind me.
“Ms. Loring,” Nadine huffed. “This was dropped off for you.”
I spun around and gaped at the cranky paralegal. She shoved a takeout bag in my hands.
“I don’t appreciate your friend making me run errands.” She turned up her nose. “What you do on your own time is your business, but if you want my advice, don’t meddle with those types of people.”
A shiver raced down my spine. Those people?
I wrenched the bag from her fingers. “Thanks for telling me.”
The wretch waddled away after giving my bare feet a disapproving sneer.
I returned to my desk, dropping the bag on it.
“Oh, you ordered dinner?” Steven looked up from his phone.
Had he missed that whole exchange? It wasn’t like Nadine was quiet.
“I did,” I lied. “You didn’t say you were coming.”
“Well, I’ll catch you tomorrow then,” he said with a sad smile.
That was it? We’d been talking about something important, and now he was just done?
I felt like I kicked the puppy. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the food didn’t matter and that it would be easy to join him. The truth was, I wanted to go home, to digest the situation, and see if this engagement was something I needed to back out of.
Which would be hard since I’d all but agreed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I agreed.
Steven rose, hesitated, and then leaned over the desk. I turned at the last second, and he pecked my cheek.
What the hell was wrong with me? I had a perfectly nice man, with flaws that I could live with offering me a fairy tale most girls would jump at a chance to have! If I was smart, I would go to dinner with him, take him home, and seal the deal.
And yet, I let him walk out the door and watched as he smiled at Nadine, who passed him in the hall.
Glowering, I turned my attention to the food. I didn’t have close friends who would send me dinner. As I peeled open the stapled top of the paper bag, a sinking feeling weighed on my chest. What if that man wasn’t just the delivery service? What if he….
I was tempted to chuck the whole thing in the trash. But the scent of savory soup made my poor stomach growl loudly.
I clutched my belly, thankful for the closed door.
Peeking into the containers, I noticed a Caesar wrap, a cup of vegetable soup, and freshly cooked kettle chips. Since it had been a few days since my last proper meal, the calories wouldn’t hurt me.
I popped a kettle chip in my mouth and opened my text messages. One glance at the screen, and I nearly choked.
Unknown: You will eat every last bite.
“No!” I hissed.
The old messages were gone. Only this new one remained.
Fumbling, I pulled up my digital trash bin. Had I deleted them last night when my brain finally turned fuzzy, right before sleep?
They weren’t there.
“Great,” I wheezed. It was quite possible I was mixing fiction with reality. Maybe this was something from a book, and the old messages never existed in the first place. That didn’t explain this new one, though.
I dropped my head onto my hands. This was too much. I was losing it. Taking careful breaths, I fought back the rising panic.
At least I didn’t go to the police with an empty phone.
“I’m losing my mind,” I said after a long exhale.
I stared at the message as though it would bite me. The skin on my arms prickled with gooseflesh. It wasn’t the only body part. I discreetly adjusted my bra. The plush material grazed my tight nipples, mortifying me further as I reread the words.
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an offer. There was an implied or else behind the order.
Screw it. I was hungry.
I picked up another kettle chip, fingers hovering over the digital keyboard to type out a heated response. Who the hell did this person think they were? Messing with me like that!
As if to taunt me, my phone vibrated before I composed my response.
Unknown: Good girl.
Those words sent a rush of heat south. My core contracted in response. Holy shit….
I looked around my office. There was no one in the hall. And yet the timing was too precise to be a coincidence.
When I looked back at my phone, the new messages were gone. Not a trace.
I imagined it. I had to have.
It was a sure sign of madness.
Later, I would deal with the inconvenient problem.
I set the phone down, screen to desk, and reached for the Caesar wrap.
That first taste of food hit my empty stomach, and now I was ravenous.
I inhaled the wrap, licking my fingers when I was done.
It might just have been the best food I’d ever eaten.
Not that I would tell my stalker that—if he even existed in the first place.