2. SIENNA
2
SIENNA
He’s been following me since yesterday, and while I should be panicking, I’m intrigued. Which is fucked up in the head, but then again, my parents have always said I’m a wild one who does the exact opposite of what she should. I should report him, or at least tell my best friend, but instead, I carry on as if nothing is different. If he finally approaches me, I’ll make a judgment call, but until then, I won’t borrow trouble.
I only know it’s a man because I caught a glimpse of him in the car that drove by and parked up the street. The windows are tinted, but it was rolled down when they parked, and I saw his reflection in the side mirror. Dark, handsome, and wearing sunglasses so I couldn’t make out his eyes.
Who is he? And what does he want from me?
I take a sip of my latte and tell myself there’s no point in worrying about it while I wait for Rori. We have a weekly coffee date, and I definitely need it this week. It’s been a stressful one, and there’s nothing better than sunshine and venting to your bestie.
I love California. I love the sun, the beaches, and the freedom to set my own schedule. I’m still far more rigid than people would think, but here I allow myself the luxury of stopping and enjoying doing things on my own schedule. My parents are currently back in London where the company headquarters is based, and I know they’re counting down the days until they can retire and I take over full time. I’m ready; I’ve been learning the business since I was old enough to understand what a computer was. I share my father’s artistic vision, but at the same time, I’m not in a rush. This is my father’s baby, and I want to make sure I’m ready to do it justice. We have some very high profile clients around the world, which means my life will get a hell of a lot busier once the reins are handed over.
It’s probably the reason my parents only wanted one child. Well, adopted one child. My parents have never hidden the fact I’m adopted; it never made them love me any less, or me them. I’ve had a damn good life. I wasn’t spoiled, despite my parents having money; instead, they taught me the value of hard work, and learning to take care of myself.
Sometimes I wonder about my birth family, but they never searched me out, so I took that as a sign that I was better off. As a teenager, I had a few moments of longing for a biological connection, but the feeling would disappear the moment my parents saw me and smiled. Family is who you make it.
Just like Rori is the sister I never had. Without her, I probably wouldn’t have survived college, or the graphic design course I took at my father’s insistence. She’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and even back then she attacked everything that came at her with absolutely everything. A vicious exam coming up? She studied like there was no tomorrow, and always passed with straight A’s. Boy problems? She’d dump them and never give them another thought. Her parents didn’t come to her graduation? Not one tear shed, and instead she strode across the stage with all the confidence in the world, grinning as everyone in our class cheered, and my parents joined in. She didn’t let anything get her down, and she’s still on top.
Well, mostly. Sometimes, she ends up rolling in the mud with whatever bounty she’s chasing, but she’s never lost one. She’s like a dog with a bone when she has to chase after them. They might run, but they can’t hide.
“Bitch, I’m thirsty, so that better be for me,” Rori’s sultry voice declares as she flops into the seat across from me, already reaching for the cup next to my own. Rori and I couldn’t be farther apart in looks. She has an edgy look that earns her second glances everywhere. I’m a typical brunette, while her hair is a natural blonde, but she’s taken to bleaching it so that it’s almost white in color. Her eyes are a sharp green, always lined with thick black liner and long lashes, and paired with dark red lipstick. She recently cut her hair to shoulder length, and lets it fall down in soft waves around her face. Today she’s wearing a white t-shirt with a skull and crossbones covering the front, rips along each side, and a pair of black leather pants that hug her like a second skin. Where I have curves, Rori is lean and toned, but I suppose with her line of work she has to be.
“Long day?” I ask her in amusement as I take a sip of my own drink. So good .
“Not really,” she replies with a shrug. “Mostly cleaned the apartment and checked to make sure there wasn’t anything that needed my attention. Must be a slow day in the crime world because there’s nada today.”
“Didn’t you just get back? The one where you had to track him through the swamp and came out looking like one of the mud monsters?”
She grins. “Yeah, but you know I don’t like to sit idle for long. I get antsy and then I do something crazy. Like paint all the walls in my apartment black.”
I groan. “No,” I tell her firmly. “I’m not helping you do that. Remember last time? We ended up having to replace the floor because you got paint all over it.”
Her grin widens. “Oh come on, you have to admit it looked so much better, and the place needed new floors. Besides, it’s not like the landlord complained when he realized I boosted his future earning potential. He’d be stupid to be mad.”
She has a point, but I try not to fuel her delusions. Not to mention, she won’t stop at black walls. She’ll want me to design something, and I don’t have the time for fun projects anymore. “Be that as it may,” I say in amusement, “I’m not doing it, so get it out of your head once and for all. Now, tell me about your date with that guy you talked to online.”
Her face instantly morphs into an expression of disgust and annoyance. Uh oh. “He showed up with a monkey in his shirt,” she huffed. “When we sat down in the restaurant, he pulled it out, and it proceeded to hop around the table and jump in my food, throwing it everywhere and screeching. He got it in my hair, on my face, and all over my new shirt. The restaurant owner demanded we leave. I pointed out I was on a date, and that I wasn’t the one who smuggled a monkey into a restaurant. It was embarrassing on all fronts.”
I try not to laugh, I really do, but it slips out before I can stop it. Rori glares at me as I lay my head down on the table and let the laughter roll. Finally, once I have myself under control, I lift my head and gasp out, “What was the monkey’s name?”
She stares at me incredulously. “That’s what you want to know? The monkey’s fucking name? What the fuck, Sienna?”
“Oh come on,” I giggle, trying not to burst into laughter again. “You can’t tell me that kind of story and leave me hanging like that. Get it? Hanging?”
“You and your stupid puns can fuck off,” she says mildly. “I don’t know what his name was, because all I saw was a furry missile coming at me and throwing food. And my asshole date just laughed because he thought it was hilarious.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes and blow out a breath. “I mean, it kind of is now, right? Would you have predicted that in a million years? You will look back on this in a year and laugh too, just you wait.”
She gives me a look that says not-fucking-likely. Then she sighs. “All I want is a man who is decent, has a stable job, doesn’t have strange pets, and can fuck me well enough that I don’t need to pretend to have an orgasm. I don’t think that is too much to ask, but apparently the universe has other ideas. What about you? When was the last time you went on a date? Or had your cooch polished?”
“Ugh, why do you have to say shit like that?” I groan. “It’s been a bit, but no one has interested me beyond a few conversations, and that’s normally with me doing all the work. At least I have work to take my mind off things.” I briefly think about my apparent stalker, but I let it slip away. Rori doesn’t need to worry about that, and I can handle myself. If I need her, I’ll tell her, but I’m sure he’ll move on soon enough and that will be the end of it. It helps to have a boring life sometimes.
“The dating pool is drying up,” Rori agrees. “Maybe you and I need to call it quits, buy a place on the ocean somewhere, and live the hermit life, only leaving home when we need to get food or laid.”
I scoff. “Babe, you becoming a hermit is about as likely as me giving up the internet. But sure, we can live in that dream world of yours if things get bad.”
She smirked. “You have more options than me. You have two continents’ worth of men for your perusal, whereas I only have one.”
I roll my eyes. “The men in London aren’t interested in me, trust me. I’ve tried, and they’re either after my parents’ money, or my connections. Or, they only want sex and nothing more.”
“Well, that hermit life is looking more and more promising,” Rori jokes. “How are your parents? Getting closer to retirement?”
“Yep. They’re more than ready, but at the same time, Dad doesn’t know how to let go. Mom’s been harping at him to scale back, or at least start the process of semi-retiring and letting me handle some things, but you know how he is. This is his baby, and he’s not about to let go too easily.”
“Your mom will get through to him. She always does. She’ll keep chipping away at him until he can’t ignore it anymore. Are you ready to take over, though? That’s a lot of responsibility about to fall in your lap.”
“I think so. And you’re right, it is, but I’ve been doing this for so long now it feels like it’s the natural course. It does worry me I might not be here as much, since the main headquarters are in London,” I add with a frown. “Which would mean you and I wouldn’t see each other as often.”
Rori gives me a pitying look. “As if. You know I’ll be over there as often as possible, or I’ll drag your butt back here. We’re sisters for life, bitch. There’s no getting rid of me.”
I grin. “Good thing I’m okay with that or it would be damn annoying. And you know you have a job at the company in a heartbeat with just one word.”
She makes a face. “Ew, hard pass. The idea of working in an office all day gives me hives, not to mention, you know I’m shit at anything more than the basics on a computer.” On that we can agree. “But don’t worry, if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Oh, speaking of, did I tell you about the perp I caught a few weeks ago that tried to hide out at his brother’s lake house and almost ended up being fish food?”
By the time Rori and I leave the cafe, I’m feeling very relaxed – and maybe a little worried my friend gets off on some weird shit. I mean, who gets this excited over chasing criminals into dangerous places? I love a good chase now and again, but hers are a little extreme. Not to mention, she’s almost gotten herself killed a couple of times by not being as careful as she should have been. But there’s no talking her out of it. She loves her job, and I don’t ever want to stand in the way of her happiness.
I make my way back toward my apartment, scanning the storefront windows as I go. I have quite a bit of work to do, but no drive to do it. I’m technically ahead of schedule, so I can take a little bit more me time. I stop at one shop with a display full of pretty glass items, taking in the way the glass reflects the warm sun mixed with the shade of the awning above the window.
Just before I turn away, I see him. Reflected in the glass and standing on the other side of the street, eating what looks to be a taco. To anyone else, he would look like a normal business person wearing a pair of dark slacks and a white dress shirt, but that face and hair are unmistakable, and I instantly recognize him as the man following me. A shiver of unease slides through me, but I ignore it. Instead, I turn away from the window, and keep moving.
I catch glimpses of him in the window’s reflections, keeping pace with me as he continues to eat. Again, he’s the picture of a man who’s just left the office for something to eat and a casual stroll, but every alarm bell in my head is going off. He’s subtly watching me. What does he want?
I take the long way home, even stepping into a shop or two and buying a couple of things to see if he’ll stick around. Unsurprisingly, he does, even emerging from a couple shops on his side of the street with a few purchases of his own. My curiosity is getting the better of me, and it’s taking all my self-control not to go across the street and ask him what the hell he’s doing. Instead, I go to my apartment, locking the door behind me before heading to the window to peer out. I look down and see him walking along, not even looking back or up. Maybe he’s decided to give up.
I put away the things I bought, and when I go back to the window, I nearly laugh out loud when I see the SUV from earlier parked just down the street from my building, clearly visible from my vantage point. This guy is not a great stalker. But I suppose if it’s someone trying to find anything about me or the business, or worse, paparazzi, that would make sense. My parents and I aren’t well known on the world stage, but every so often, people get curious on a slow news day and show up to ask questions.
Deciding to put him out of my mind, I get to work and spend the next couple hours catching up on a few smaller tasks that don’t take long. When I finally stand back up, stretching my arms over my head to relieve the tension in my back and neck, I head for the window again, curious to see if he gave up.
Much to my surprise, he’s still there. I frown. Normally paparazzi don’t stick around this long for someone like me. Someone famous, sure, but definitely not me. Maybe it’s a competitor spying on me. But what could they want? We’re damn careful about the information we release, and all of our work is stored on secured servers. It would take an expert hacker to get through all our firewalls.
I step back from the window and tell myself if they want to sit out there for hours for nothing, that’s on them. I’m going back to work.
By the time it’s dark out, my eyes are burning from staring at the screen for so long, but I got a healthy chunk of my workload done, and that means I can relax the rest of the night. I head for the fridge, but then stop and go back to the window. I let out a sigh of annoyance when I see the SUV hasn’t moved. Still in the same place, still sitting and waiting. What the fuck is up with that?
Fuck it, I want to know what the hell they’re doing. It’s not smart, but my father always says that when you want to know something, do whatever you have to to figure it out. Granted, I doubt he meant confronting a stalker, but whatever. Returning to my bedroom, I strip down and pull on black yoga pants and a black hoodie, tucking my hair inside the hood so that it can’t be spotted, and finally a pair of black sneakers I picked up on sale the other day. Who knew they would come in handy so soon? I also grab a pen and a small notebook just in case I need to write down the license plate number.
One thing I love about my apartment is its secret exit. Few know it exists. It’s an old building, and at one point belonged to a man who apparently had a thing for hiding all kinds of shit. Every apartment has one or two secret doors and nooks. I picked the only apartment that has an actual hidden exit. I go into the kitchen and enter the tiny pantry that isn’t any bigger than a closet, and lift the latch at the back of the farthest shelf. It swings open silently—thanks to me oiling the hinges—and I walk out onto a little private balcony. On the edge of the balcony is a ladder that leads to the ground, stopping a few short feet above, so I can just drop down onto my feet.
The alleyway between this building and the next is narrow so cars can’t drive through. It’s also handy that there are no windows on either side of the alleyway. Anyone who cared to look would only see a random fire escape and balcony, which means I can get behind the SUV that is currently watching my apartment without them noticing me, if I’m careful. It’s dark enough, and the lamp for the street is ahead of the SUV, which means I should be able to do it without casting a shadow.
I ease out of the alley, staying close to the building, waiting until I can see the side mirror on the passenger side. The man I saw earlier is on that side, which means he’s not alone. Interesting. They also have the windows down, and they’re speaking in Italian so I can’t make out most of what they’re saying. I know enough to ask directions or how to get to the bathroom, but that’s about it. Why the hell are two Italian men stalking me? The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I ignore them. Instead, I carefully creep across the sidewalk behind the SUV. I duck down, making sure they can’t see me, and then quickly jot down the license plate number.
I freeze when I hear my name, worried they’ve caught me. But no one gets out, and they continue talking. I stay still, listening, but I can’t figure out what the hell they’re saying.
Maybe it’s because I’ve lost my mind, but I flip the page in my notebook and write a note, and then carefully slip it under the rear windshield wiper before I slip away and back down the alley. Now to wait and see how long it takes them to notice it. I jump and grab the bottom rung of the fire escape and haul myself up. I’ve never been so glad for all those lessons growing up, and the fact that I’ve kept myself in shape.
I scale back up the ladder and onto the balcony. I put my hand on the brick wall, finding the hidden latch, and then let myself back in without a sound, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. Then I head for the window. Unsurprisingly, it takes them a few minutes, but then the driver’s side door opens and out climbs a giant of a man. Holy shit, he’s huge. He towers over the SUV, which means he has to be a few inches over six feet. He makes his way around the back of the SUV with a dark scowl on his face.
I watch him read my note. It only takes a moment, and then he moves around the SUV to the passenger side and passes it through the window. It takes another moment, but then the large man steps back, and out climbs the other man. He immediately tilts his head back to look up, and our gazes catch. That’s all it takes for me to know, right down to my bones, this man is dangerous.
And I’ve just invited him up to my apartment. I have clearly lost my mind.