Chapter 15
Kaelee
MID-NOVEMBER
Even though they were no longer having sex, Kaelee still woke up with Greta on her mind most days.
Before she even rolled out of bed, before coffee, before the gym, she thought about Greta.
Sometimes it was Greta Her Editor, who was asking about cover copy—the words on the book flap—or opinions on a bunch of fonts for her name on the book, but mostly it was Greta Her Friend.
Greta: If you had one superpower?
Kaelee: Teleportation.
Greta: Really? You could have anything. Breathing underwater, flying, telepathy.
Kaelee: Nope. Don’t want to read minds. I can get a ticket for a plane. I want to pop from one place to another.
Greta: I want an eidetic memory.
Kaelee: Nerd. Smartphone. Take a picture of the file. Boom, perfect recall.
Greta: Nerd? Ha! How many degrees do you have?
Kaelee smiled at that. Their exchanges were always light, and one part of their conversation was a long-running Q and A about everything.
On some level, Greta Her Friend, Greta Her Editor, and Marie Her Lover were three distinct sides of Greta, and the horrible truth was that Kaelee realized that she actually liked all three of them.
She’s everything I could want in a woman.…
At least when they were several hours apart, Kaelee found it a lot easier to avoid the temptation to drop to her knees and worship Greta.
There were a few too many nights—and mornings—when Marie in all of her writhing, moaning beauty was the memory Kaelee thought about.
A few times, Kaelee had debated asking if phone sex was off the table, but she knew that answer.
And it was the right answer.
She knew that, too. So she put in a few more gym hours than she used to. More weights. More cardio. More sweating out her stress. Kaelee debated finding someone to fuck, but she didn’t want anyone else. She didn’t want someone she couldn’t let walls down with. Kaelee wanted her friend.
Unfortunately, she’d learned years ago that the surest way to destroy a friendship was to fuck.
She wasn’t going to deny that she looked at her newest friend and weighed the thought far too often.
Even when she was at the gym, campus, or at the bar with friends, as she was tonight, Greta was on her mind.
No sex with Greta. She said so.
“What are you scowling at?” Cherie threw a dart with laser precision. “I have another date coming in thirty minutes, so talk fast before you wander off to sulk in the corner.”
Maybe it was odd, but Kaelee had started going on a few of Cherie’s date meetups.
Not on the actual date, but just to the location as a backup to be sure Cherie was safe.
Cherie had one couple show up seeking their unicorn, and one creepy man who had posed as a woman on an app because he wanted to “convert” a lesbian, so Kaelee had taken to going out to wherever Cherie was meeting her date to make sure the person or situation wasn’t something problematic.
I can edit in a bar as easily as my office, Kaelee told herself.
“Are your edit notes awful? You keep scowling that hard, you’ll wrinkle.” Cherie pouted as if the thought of wrinkling was sad.
“No. Edits are actually done. I’m tinkering at this point,” Kaelee confessed.
“Is it your celibacy problem?” Cherie’s next dart was tight enough to the one in the bull’s-eye that the first dart that was there wobbled and fell. “Don’t think I don’t know the my girl isn’t getting any look.”
“Maybe? I’m not used to wanting things but not going after them.
” Kaelee scanned the bar, mostly out of habit.
“I wanted Marie, but that ship sailed. And no one else…” She shrugged.
“And I’m feeling paranoid this week, I guess.
My door was unlocked the other day. I’m probably just forgetful and left it that way, but… ”
“Anything missing?”
“No. I could have forgotten, or maybe the super was up, or…”
Cherie plopped into the chair opposite her. “Trust your gut. You know that. Whatever the secret you don’t tell me is, it’s enough that you have four locks. That speaks. Trust your gut.”
Kaelee nodded. “I am getting it rekeyed.”
“Good.” Cherie eyed her and said, “You need to figure out how to get that smile back, too. You have the career, the TA, the first of two degrees. So, what are you missing? What would make you smile? New car? Wasn’t your book deal … significant?”
Kaelee flipped her off. “My car still runs fine. I’m not going to replace her just because I got a check.”
Her book deal wasn’t the sort of money Toni had made, but she had been paid one hundred twenty-five thousand a book.
Signing for two books meant she had been paid sixty thousand, less her agent’s fifteen percent, already.
That left her with fifty grand in her account, which replaced almost all her living expenses during the years she finished college and her master’s degree.
Then there would be a check when the book was accepted.
That covered the rest and gave a slight cushion.
Her teaching assistantship had already kept her withdrawals low, but the first publishing checks replaced all that she had withdrawn.
The on-print check would put her balance above the original figure.
“Okay, your car runs, and your clothes aren’t that tattered.” Cherie gave her a once-over. “And even if they were, you are so cheap you squeak.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know. Cheap shoes? Ass clenched so tight it’s rubbing?” Cherie waved her hand. “How am I to know? Do I look like a linguist to you?”
“Don’t knock linguists. They’re often good with their tongues.” Kaelee kept a straight face as she made this declaration. “Worth looking for if you’re dating…”
“Perv.” Cherie rolled her eyes. “You talk like this when you’re defensive, you know.”
“Ouch.” Kaelee put a hand over her heart. “You’re brutal, Cher.”
“Call a locksmith.” Cherie poked at her phone. “Now. Leave a message. I can stay there tonight, and we’ll move something in front of the door. Do you have pepper spray?”
“You have a date.”
“I also have a friend who is anxious and opening up. Do you know how often that happens?” Cherie marched over to an empty table. “You sit here until my date ends. Then we go home. Research locksmiths while I’m busy.”
Kaelee followed her gaze to the doorway, where a very femme young woman was pushing up her glasses as she fumbled for a wallet, obviously being carded.
As Cherie walked away, Kaelee cringed. This was not the chivalrous woman Cherie was seeking.
She certainly wasn’t the throw her down and ravish her sort either.
At least she seemed like she was actually in the right age group for Cherie.
There had been one man who showed up with a girl young enough to be his kid, and the pedo vibes were intense.
They’d separated the man from her long enough to check that the young woman wasn’t being sex trafficked. It was all sorts of ick.
Tonight, at least, there was nothing creepy or potentially illegal. And hey, maybe Cherie would click with the awkward woman and reassess what she wanted.
Like I did with Greta.
That was the other thought that was worrying Kaelee.
She wasn’t sure who she could talk to about that.
Certainly not Toni! Oh hey, I’ve been naked with our editor, and I can’t stop missing her.
That sounded like a horrible conversation.
And she thought maybe she could talk to Addie, but since Toni and Addie had zero secrets, telling Addie was telling Toni.
Cherie was new to dating women, but not new to dating.
Maybe I ought to talk to her.
First, though, Kaelee opened her browser and searched for locksmiths.
An hour later, Cherie stood at the barstool beside her. “Any luck on locksmiths?”
“I have one scheduled for tomorrow,” Kaelee admitted. She glanced toward the table where Cherie had been meeting her latest date. “No love match?”
“She was sweet.” Cherie frowned. “Maybe I’m asking for too much. Maybe I just need to try going on a few dates with one person.”
“I’m not the right person to give dating advice.
You want sex tips? I have you covered. If you want heart stuff, I’m not her.
” Kaelee had settled her tab earlier and was nursing a glass of water.
Getting drunk when she was already on edge seemed unwise.
“Ready to head out? If you changed your mind about crashing at mine, I can drop—”
“Don’t be a dumbass.” Cherie waited patiently for her to stand. “If you feel more at ease, we could go to my place. My roommates are quiet.”
“I’m okay at mine. There’s a lock that’s only secured from the inside, so really…” Kaelee shrugged. She wasn’t about to inconvenience people because she was anxious.
“Come on. Pajama party time. We could get ice cream and watch a movie.” Cherie widened her eyes in a way that would not be amiss on manga art or a cartoon deer.
They were almost to her car when the phone chimed with a North Carolina exchange.
She ignored it. The same number dialed back.
Again she declined the call. A different North Carolina number dialed, and this time she answered.
Typically, she didn’t answer any numbers with that prefix, but she felt awkward with the insistence of it.
“Hello?”
“Sabrina?” Her father’s voice rolled across the line, thunderous and terrifying as he once had been to her face.
Kaelee started shaking. How did he get this number? Why? Her skeletons weren’t things she liked to ponder, and he was the puppet master behind most of them. Controlling. Hateful. Vengeful.
“We heard this nonsense about your book, Sabrina. Aldens don’t make spectacles of themselves. They don’t embarrass the family name. Put a stop to it, or I will.” His voice was thick with the drawl of home, but it was, as ever with him, laced with the imperiousness that had no place in her life.
She shook so much that she closed her eyes against the fear crawling up her throat. Once, he’d been her daddy, her haven against nightmares and bullies; once, he’d been the man she trusted to keep her safe. When she stopped being the child he wanted, he morphed into someone heinous.
“You have the wrong number,” she managed to say somewhat steadily.
“You listen to me—”
“No.” She opened her eyes, swallowing back enough of the fear to stop from sounding so weak and breathy. “I will not listen to you. My name isn’t that. I don’t know you or want to, and you have no business issuing me orders.”
He was deathly quiet for a moment. “No one embarrasses my family, Sabrina. If you think your stunt is going to be tolerated, you’re gravely mistaken.”
“I am no part of your family, so my life doesn’t concern you.” Kaelee disconnected the call and promptly blocked his number. Her hands were shaking, and tears of frustration and terror raced over her cheeks.
Cherie wrapped both arms around her and squeezed.
“I don’t know how he found me,” Kaelee breathed.
Maybe the locks were a clue.
My God. Does he know where I live? Do I need to move?
For several moments, she stood there. Cherie rubbed small circles on her back, soothing her like she was a startled child after a nightmare, and murmuring, “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.”
“Would you think I was insane if I asked if we could crash in a hotel? My treat?” Kaelee straightened, swatting at the tears still on her face.
“Do we need to call the police?”
“No. No threats were made, not really. They can’t do anything anyhow.
” Kaelee started walking. “I have my gym bag in the car, and we could stop at your place, and you get things or … hell, I’ll buy you pajamas and whatever makeup things you need or …
I mean, you could stay at your own place, and I—”
“Hush. We’ll go have us a posh PJ party.
Room service and high thread counts. I’m bringing a cooler, though.
Ice cream—which I can grab at my apartment, too—and a bottle of wine.
I have you, Kaelee. Friends don’t panic alone.
” She offered Kaelee her elbow. “Let me be your knight for a change. You always look after me.”
Kaelee gave a watery laugh and blurted out, “My family disowned me. That was him. My father. He wants me not to publish my book because it would embarrass him.”
“Well, fuck him and anyone else trying to put their egos in your way.” Cherie made a noise somewhere between a growl and a huff. “And your book is fantasy, right?”
“It is.”
“Well, how in the name of all that’s rational is that anything to do with him? I can see him being upset if it was a memoir telling the world he’s an ass waffle, but—”
“Ass waffle?” Kaelee echoed.
“Are you publishing it under his name?”
“No.” Kaelee paused. “We don’t have the same surname either. Kaelee Carpenter didn’t exist until a few years ago.”
“Well, of course you did. You just didn’t have your real name yet.” Cherie held out a hand. “I’m driving. I know you have your control issues, but tonight, you need to let a friend handle some stuff, okay?”
Mutely, Kaelee handed over her keys. The last time she had to figure out how to escape her past, she did it on her own. Tonight, she was grateful to have a friend at her side, especially one willing to take the reins while she had a small meltdown.