Chapter 19
Nineteen
Maeve
I glance back over my shoulder as I keep moving forward. Nobody is there yet fear builds with each step I take. Only a few more feet and I’ll be safe. It’s been forty-five days, nine hours, and two minutes since the weekend we do not speak of – even though I constantly think about it. A certain gorgeous and dangerous man – whom I refuse to name – keeps making appearances in my dreams every single night. It’s making me insane, to the point where paranoia is beginning to set in. I keep hearing the sound of footsteps. From time to time, I get tingles on the back of my neck from the sensation of feeling eyes on me. But who would be watching me? People have better things to do than creep on me.
At least I hope they do.
Whenever family calls, I lie. I don’t tell them my fears that someone is lurking about, because I know they’ll swoop in. I crave my independence too much. That’s why I moved away from my family to Collierville, Tennessee. But I’m still close enough to run home with my tail between my legs if needed. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of people I could call. I have friends. Co-workers. I could even call my cousins who live a little over two hours away, but Vincent and Tristan have been busy with Mark and his big fat Greek family drama.
The real reason for not calling anyone is my pride. My stupid ego will not allow me to call my cousins after being such a ditz by jumping into a stranger’s car without checking their identification. That’s not me. What if I do call and it turns out I’m being paranoid? Which is possible. My head has been in the clouds ever since that weekend.
That stupid weekend that won’t stop haunting me. That’s what it is. I’m being haunted with memories and fantasies. I’m not the type to fall for criminals. The man physically killed someone in front of me and then I went ahead and allowed him to murder my vagina. Figuratively speaking as to my vagina. Although I do think my soul left my body a few times during those orgasms.
I’ve always been strictly a rule follower, but that weekend I was drawn to danger. Maybe it’s a family trait. My cousins are shady businessmen. I must be hardwired to be attracted to the morally grey areas of life. It gives me a little comfort to blame genetics rather than biology. The idea that my body lusts for the bad man who did wicked things to me. I’d never trade my lifelong values for a couple of hours of lustful desires – unless I was left with no other choice. Which is obviously what happened. He called out to the deepest and darkest part of my soul. Nicholas Deschamps shook me to my core. My skin still tingles everywhere he touched me. I’d never met a man so magnetic – or deadly.
I hurry inside and lock my door behind me. Then I double check the locks. Paranoid or not, I won’t ignore my instincts. But I will quiet my brain and dull my senses now that I’m securely locked away. I pour myself a glass of wine and release a heavy and overdramatic sigh. I need to get this man out of the forefront of my mind. It’s over. He’s in Las Vegas, Nevada, and I’m in Collierville, Tennessee. Construction has begun on his new casino in West Memphis, Arkansas. Not that I’m keeping up with it. I don’t care if the new casino could bring Nicholas so close. I’m sure a powerful man such as Mr. Deschamps is far too busy to oversee the construction. I only drove by once just to see. I was heading that way anyways. I need help. But he will come for the grand opening. I down the rest of my wine and pour another glass. A part of me wants to go, but I see his red flags. They’re kind of hard to miss. I will never be anywhere near him again. He will remain only in my dreams as a dark fairy tale.
Two things happen at once. A loud banging sound startles me to the point of almost shitting myself and causes me to jerk up, making me painfully aware that I’ve, unfortunately, made a terrible mistake. Drinking a whole bottle of wine to fall asleep started out great but now I’m inebriated and my eyes are not adjusting to the darkness.
Someone is here. Maybe not in this room, but they’re close. Focus. Focus.
“Hello?” I try to speak, but it comes out as a groan. Please be a friendly serial killer. Silence. “Rude.”
I’m struggling to make out sounds over the pounding in my head, but I think there’s a low chuckle. A part of my brain is screaming at me that this is my cue to panic. The other side isn’t catching up because it’s lost in a cloud of fog. My hand blindly reaches for my phone on the night stand but pauses when I hear the front door slam shut. The silence that follows stretches until finally I can’t sit upright anymore. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my heavy eyes fall shut as I give myself over to the dark abyss.
The obnoxious sound of my alarm has me forcing my eyes open. Sun rays peek through the blinds. I blink several times but full panic settles in. Oh shit! Someone was in my house. I jump up, immediately regretting that move, but I keep going. I rush through the house, looking for any signs of an intruder. Everything is in its place. All the windows and doors are still locked.
“I’m insane,” I say aloud to myself. Further proving I’ve officially lost it. I had been drinking so I either imagined it or it was a vivid dream. But the chuckle. I know I heard a chuckle. Coffee. I need coffee. It has magical beans that refuel the body and clear the head. After two cups of coffee and a shower, I’m beginning to function somewhat normally. Which is good since I need to get to work.
I ride the elevator up to my office on the third floor. I’ve been here for three years and still not sure if it’s the right place for me. I love the work, but I’m convinced my boss is evil. Not bad or mean – she’s toxic. Evelyn Bowman is the coldest person I’ve ever met, but she’s successful and brilliant. The woman doesn’t seem human. Her ethereal beauty and elegance is a lethal combination with her intelligence and sharp tongue. Working for her has been a dream, but sometimes a nightmare. There’s no denying that working here has opened a lot of doors and given me a wealth of knowledge. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from my older co-worker, Kane Bradley, who’s only a step below Miss Bowman in prestigious accomplishments. He’s the sweetest man and has been incredibly patient with me. I won’t deny I’ve had a tiny crush on him. He’s about ten years my senior and single. Problem is That he’s never once seemed the slightest bit interested in me that way. I’m but a little bird he’s taken under his wing.
The elevator doors slide open, revealing Miss Bowman standing by my cubicle with Kane. With my heart in my throat, I hurry over to them. Lifting a trembling hand, I wave. “Good morning.”
She looks powerful and…unhappy. “You’re late. Do you think that entails a ‘good’ morning?”
“No, Miss Bowman.” I don’t consider five minutes early to be late, but who I am to argue? I stand tall while she glares at me with a look of disappointment across her stunning statuesque face.
She places her manicured hand on my desk and her long nails rattle as they drum along. “You agree then? That you’re late?”
What game is she playing? I just want to get to work and away from her piercing grim reaper eyes. I swear if you stare into them too long, she sucks your soul out of your body.
“I was trying to be on time but maybe I need to be here fifteen minutes early rather than five.”
A cruel smirk tugs at her lips. Without taking her eyes off me, she speaks to Kane. “I told you she’s not ready. You’ve been soft with her. That’s not doing her any favors.” She turns her cold eyes to look at Kane’s handsome face that looks at me full of sympathy. “Bigger clients have bigger egos. They’re fucking sharks. Your pet can’t even argue when she’s in the right.” Evelyn turns back to me and in a firm voice demands, “Toughen up. Politely correcting me that you are in fact on time wouldn’t have been disrespectful. What you did was. You didn’t show either one of us a shred of respect by rolling over. That was a test, and you failed.” She stands tall and looks between Kane and me. “Have a good morning.”
It's not until she completely crosses the room and closes her office door that I feel like I can breathe. “What the hell was that?”
“That was my fault.” Kane rubs the back of his neck. “I suggested you were ready to take on bigger events. I didn’t expect her to walk out here immediately and sideswipe you.”
“It’s okay.” I pull myself together. I look Kane in the eyes, steeling my voice I speak with confidence. “And I guess she’s right. If I can’t speak up about something as silly as the time, how am I going to deal with the stress and demands of high-profile clients.”
Despite the rocky start to my morning, I was able to jump in and spend the day bouncing from client to client, building relationships and creating the perfect outlines for their events. What I lack in being confrontational in person, I more than make up for in my professionalism and enthusiasm for executing a client’s dream. I’m finding my place in the public relations and events world, even if this may not be my forever company. Whatever the case, I’m thankful for this opportunity.
“Hey. It’s an hour past lunch. I don’t need you fainting on me.” Kane’s deep voice breaks me out of my focus on my computer.
“Sorry. I was on a roll with this sweet sixteen party. Her party is going to cost more than I make in a year.” Not being able to resist my excitement, I do a happy spin in my chair as I squeal, “But it’s going to be so epic!”
“Sounds like you’re really having fun.”
“I am. I think I might be enjoying spending her daddy’s money more than she is. Musicians’ kids are always the most fun to plan parties for.”
“Come on. Let’s go grab lunch.”
I release a huff of annoyance. “Fine.”
As we walk across the street, alarm bells are ringing in my ears. The sensation of being followed has goosebumps breaking out over my skin. Luckily, I’m not alone this time. Kane isn’t massive, but I feel like he could be scrappy in a fight. At the very least two against one is better odds than one on one or one of us could get away and call for help while God knows what is happening to the other one.
We enter the BBQ diner and walk up to place our orders for sandwiches. As we wait, Kane bobs his head to the blues music playing, completely oblivious to my uneasiness. Someone is following me. I scan the place for a familiar face or anyone who looks suspicious, but come up empty. Kane accepts the bag from the employee and then places his hand on my back to gently guide me out of the building.
“You know you can do it, right?” He speaks over the traffic noise.
“What?”
“Handle the bigger clients. It’s Evelyn, isn’t it? I don’t think you’d cower or crumble under the pressure of high-profile clients. You’re just a nervous nelly around her.”
I snort. “I’m not a nervous nelly!”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, but you are!”
Right then my phone dings. I ignore it until we’re waiting for the elevator.
UNKNOWN: Either you remove his hand from your back, or I remove it from his arm.
What the hell? On instinct, I step away from Kane’s touch. His brows furrow. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
I knew I was being stalked; the question now is if I should share this information. No good can come from dragging Kane into it. He’d be useless anyways. I need to get to the police station and file a report now that I have evidence. “A family emergency. Go ahead up without me. I have to take a call.”
The police station isn’t that far. I have time to hurry down there and file my report before my lunch break is over. Besides, the fear that’s slicing through me has me incapable of managing anything else until this is settled. My heels clack loudly against the floor as I hurry back outside. My phone dings immediately as soon as the door closes behind me.
UNKNOWN: Unless your plan is to come to me, go back to work.
Do I engage with this psycho and reply? Since they’re watching, I probably shouldn’t walk off to the police station alone. I could go to my office and call for help. At least get a police escort home and ask for someone to patrol my neighborhood.
ME: Hard to go to you when you’ve not told me who you are or where you are, asshole.
And Evelyn thinks I don’t have a backbone.
UNKNOWN: Watch the sass. That pretty little smirk on your face is begging for me to coat your lips in my precum.
Ew. Not a chance in hell, creeper. I raise my finger to flip off the jerk, wherever he is, but instead my eyes connect with a nice little old lady. “Ma’am, I am so sorry. That was not intended for you.”
She shuffles past me with a scowl and then in turn flips me the bird. Her scratchy voice hisses, “Cunt.”
“I – I really am…sorry.” I can’t believe she called me a cunt.
UNKNOWN: Stop terrorizing senior citizens and go to work. Your boss is already less than impressed with your performance today.
My heart becomes erratic. This has to be someone inside my building. Before I’d kind of thought my stalker could be Nicholas, which now I feel even more foolish for because why would he travel all this way to hunt me down. A small part of me wishes it was him. At least then it’d be a shared mix of fear and desire. I wanted him to come after me. Which shows how clearly unhealthy I am. Nicholas wouldn’t have knowledge of what had occurred this morning. The realization that someone who is close to me is threatening violence has me completely immobilized. I’ve been an idiot. I should’ve called my cousins immediately. I thought I could handle this, but I find myself lacking any and all confidence.
ME: Who are you, or are we going to keep playing games?
UNKNOWN: I love playing games.
Nicholas loved playing games, too. I have to stop thinking about him. This is serious. I’m in danger yet still day dreaming about a weekend fling. Why has my life suddenly become total chaos?
UNKNOWN: Go. You’re not ready for our games. (yet).
With no other choice, I turn around and slowly walk back inside. I try to control my breathing, to no avail, as the elevator climbs up each floor. As soon as the elevator doors slide open I hurry out. Kane is chatting away with some of the other coworkers. Good to see he still has both hands.
“Miss Goodman.” Evelyn’s cool voice draws my attention. “A word.”
I need to call the police, but I follow her into her office. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her office is modern, elegant, neat, and extremely clean. She goes to stand behind her glass and steel desk. “I received a call from a very important client inquiring about you.”
“Me?”
“They want to hire you.” Hopes swells within me, but her sour expression has me tampering it down. This doesn’t seem like good news. I wait for her to continue and try to keep my facial expression neutral. She studies me a beat longer before finally taking a seat at her desk. I remain standing since she didn’t invite me to sit.
“Imagine my surprise. My most valued and trusted employee recommended you just this morning. Impressing Mr. Bradly is no easy feat.” Her nails click against the glass as she strums her fingers. “Yes, you do well with spoiled rich kids. Small charities and galas. But you lack the ambition and talent of Mr. Bradly and myself. We take on the high-profile clients. Because it’s my name and reputation that’s on the line.”
I straighten my spine. This is my moment. I won’t falter and crumble like this morning. “I’ve worked hard and continue to learn and strive for perfection with each event. Mr. Bradly has been an incredible mentor. I’m grateful for my job here and getting the opportunity to learn from the best in the business.”
She releases a humorless chuckle. “What a pretty speech. Yet, again, I’m not impressed.”
This is not going well. I’m not sure what she wants from me. I wait for her to continue.
“Your attempt to rise in the ranks, so to speak, through Mr. Bradly failed. But oh look. Now you have been personally requested by a client I can’t refuse.”
“Miss Bowman, I apologize, but I’m clueless as to who the client could possibly be. I would also like to make it very clear that I never asked Mr. Bradly to speak on my behalf. I wasn’t even aware he was going to suggest that I take on bigger accounts.”
She purses her red lips together. “These are all happy coincidences then?”
“Seems so.”
“Very well, Miss Goodman.” She stands up. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes; in fact, it looks cold and calculated. “You have a meeting with your client on Monday in the conference room. Since this is your first account of this caliber, of course, I and Mr. Bradly will sit in on it. But you will be the lead.”
“What?” I grab the chair in front of me as my knuckles buckle under her words. “Thank you so much! This is – this is – Who is it?”
An unamused sound comes from the back of her throat. “Don’t play coy, Miss Goodman. I don’t like having my hand forced or to be bullied.” She sighs. “But if they’re willing to throw millions our way for you to get your five seconds of fame, who am I to complain?” I open my mouth to speak, but her voice only gets louder and more firm. “Let’s hope you at least prove yourself as well as you’ve proven to be a master manipulator. That’ll be all.”
“Miss Bowman.”
“That will be all, Miss Goodman.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I somehow make it back to my cubicle. I don’t look at anyone or speak to anyone for the next several hours. When my cell vibrates on my desk, I about fall out of my chair. My nerves are frazzled. I flip it over and almost burst into tears.
UNKNOWN: New VIP client. Congratulations.