Chapter 5
Ansley
I spend Saturday and Sunday at home.
It’s not my normal reclusiveness that keeps me indoors. I have a hard time shaking the strange feeling that someone is watching me. Even safely in my apartment with the deadbolt locked, it seems to come and go, especially when it gets dark.
This is why I don’t like going out. I had a few drinks, met some guys, and now I’m worried that I’m being stalked. I sigh, stretching out on the couch and staring at the ceiling. Like anyone wants to stalk me of all people.
Luckily, I’ve had plenty to keep me busy and distracted from the weird sensation. I moved into my new apartment shortly after I got a job offer from York Financial and I’m still unpacking. Deciding where I want everything to go. Making the place my own, so that it feels like my home.
I love my grandparents, but the thought of living with them again after college wasn’t appealing.
My grandfather can be a bit much. I wouldn’t say I bloomed and prospered at college, but it was nice to feel like I was in charge of my own life, even if I was driven by my grandfather’s expectations.
The expectations still haunt me. I’m sure they always will, even after he’s dead and buried. Now I get to do things my way.
“Okay, that’s enough of a break,” I say out loud, pushing myself up from the couch. I’ll finish unpacking the kitchen, and then I’ll pour myself a glass of wine. I deserve it after working in this apartment for two days straight.
As soon as I stand, the strange sensation sweeps through me. A feeling like I’m being watched. Arousal between my legs. A pulsing heat in my core.
It’s ridiculous, of course. I’m too high up for anyone to peek in my windows. The fire escape is rickety and old. If anyone stepped foot on it, I’d hear it. I hear it creak every time the neighbor above me goes outside to smoke.
“Work stress. Dating stress. Daisy stress,” I sigh, trying to shake it off. “That’s all this is.”
As if on cue, my phone lights up with a message from my best friend.
Daisy: So, did you call any of them yet?
Ansley: No, not yet.
Daisy: Lame! What about the cowboy? He was hot!
Ansley: All he did was compliment me. A lot.
Daisy: And that’s a bad thing?
Ansley: No, but I didn’t really feel a connection with him. I’m definitely not calling the second guy. I don’t know enough about football to have a conversation with him.
Daisy: I bet he’d love to teach you how to score a touchdown.
She follows her message with a string of emojis involving fruits and vegetables and various sports stuff that make me roll my eyes.
Ansley: No thank you!
Daisy: That just leaves the finance bro.
Ansley: He was nice. If I call anyone, it’ll be him.
Daisy: Boring, but it’s your life. What are you waiting for?
Ansley: I don’t know. I might call him this week.
Daisy: If you don’t go on a date with one of them this week, I expect you back at the bar on Friday for another round of speed dating.
Ansley: Maybe.
Daisy: At least stop by tomorrow after work. It’s so boring on the weeknights. As my best friend, it’s your obligation to come and entertain me!
Ansley: When did I sign up for that?
Daisy: Middle school! Besides, it’s been years since we’ve hung out like we used to. Now that you’re living in the city again, there’s no excuse!
Ansley: Fine, I’ll stop by and see you.
I didn’t realize returning to Chicago meant I was obligated to become a barfly. But I do miss hanging out with Daisy. I figured she would have a million new friends by now, considering how outgoing she is, but I guess she’s still got a soft spot for me, her OG BFF.
Monday morning comes at me in a rush. I barely get signed into my computer before my boss is at my desk, asking for an update on the reports I’m responsible for. I can’t do the Blithe Holdings report until the market opens, so I work on the after-market data for the other reports.
It’s a long day, and by the time it’s over, I’m more than ready to go home.
My pajamas are calling my name, just like they were last week.
But I honor my promise to Daisy. I take an Uber to Fletcher’s Bar and walk inside.
Daisy wasn’t kidding about it being boring. There isn’t a single customer here.
“Ansley!” Daisy says, running around the bar and nearly tackling me with a hug again.
“Hey girl,” I say, doing my best not to lose my balance. “You just saw me a couple of days ago. You don’t have to hug me like we haven’t hung out in years.”
“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” Daisy says. “Long Island Iced Tea tonight, or just a glass of wine?”
“I think I’ll just have water tonight,” I say, walking up to the bar as she goes back behind the counter. “Long day, and I need to go in early tomorrow to catch up on a few reports.”
“Water it is,” Daisy chimes, fixing a glass and putting it in front of me.
Daisy and I catch up. She tells me how amazing the atmosphere was on Saturday night and all about the hot guys I could have met if I was here.
I talk about work, and she listens, offering an empathetic smile and words of encouragement.
Despite being rather disinterested in finance, she does understand what I do.
Same thing she would be doing if she hadn’t dropped out to become a bartender.
“Hey, so, this is kind of random,” I say apprehensively, pointing at the chair in the corner the mysterious guy was watching me from. “But do you remember the guy who was sitting over there when I was here Friday? Big guy, flannel shirt and jeans? He looked kind of rugged.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so, but this place was pretty busy.” She shrugs. “Why? Was he bothering you? You should have said something.”
I wave off her concern and reach for my water. “No, nothing like that. He was just… I don’t know. I thought he was staring at me. I considered going over to talk to him, but he was gone when I came back from the bathroom.”
“Wait, you were going to talk to him!?” Daisy grins. “Do you have a crush on him or something? I could have arranged for him to be one of your speed dates!”
“He was a little older than the guys you were setting me up with,” I say, sipping my water. “I just wanted to ask him why he was staring at me.”
That’s not the entire truth. Yes, I did want to ask him why he was staring at me, but there was something else that drew me to him. Something I’ve never felt before.
“Because you looked hot in that dress,” Daisy laughs. “I’m surprised the entire bar wasn’t staring at you.”
I can’t help some redness from creeping along my neck. “Stop! That wasn’t it. I mean, maybe he was interested, but… I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll never see him again, so it doesn’t matter.”
“He doesn’t sound like a regular. I know most of them,” she says. “But I’ll keep an eye out. Rugged… red flannel shirt… jeans… Sounds like a sexy lumberjack. Did he have an axe?”
“Hah!” I chuckle. “If he had an axe, I wouldn’t have tried to talk to him!”
“Sometimes axe murderers are sexy,” she teases, giving me a nudge.
“Pretty sure he wasn’t an axe murderer,” I say, thinking back to the way his dark stare lingered. “Or… maybe he was. Maybe it’s a good thing he left before I could talk to him.”
“Must have found someone else who needed a good pounding,” she grins. “With a big tool of some sort, of course.”
“Right…” I mutter.
Daisy and I continue talking, cracking jokes, and playfully teasing each other. She does more teasing than I do, but I’m used to that. It never bothers me and I find it rather entertaining at times.
It’s already dark when the door opens and a customer walks in. Daisy glances over and her eyes widen, so I follow her gaze.
The man who steps inside doesn’t look like he belongs in a place like Fletcher’s.
He’s tall and lean, dressed in a black coat that hangs perfectly from his shoulders like it was tailored for him.
His dark hair is slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place, and his skin is pale in a way that makes the dim lights of the bar seem almost too bright against it.
I wouldn’t say he’s my type, but he’s got sharp features that give him a refined kind of handsomeness, the sort that looks more at home in a high-end cocktail lounge than a neighborhood bar with sticky floors.
His eyes sweep across the room slowly, thoughtfully, like he’s cataloging everything he sees.
When those eyes land on Daisy, a faint smile touches his lips. It doesn’t exactly look like a friendly smile. The hair on the back of my neck prickles like a warning. My stomach feels uneasy. For a moment, I swear the air in the room feels colder.
Daisy doesn’t seem to notice. She strolls down the length of the bar before speaking. “Welcome to Fletcher’s! What can I get you to drink?”
“Mmmm, I don’t like to drink alone,” the man says, his voice smooth, controlled, and slightly unsettling. “I was hoping for… more atmosphere.”
“Just us tonight. Mondays are always slow,” Daisy chimes, then she gestures to me. “But if you buy my friend a drink, then you won’t be drinking alone, right?”
He approaches the bar slowly, like he’s not in a hurry. Like he’s got all the time in the world. His gaze lingers on me long enough for the hair on the back of my neck to keep rising, but then he shakes his head and turns his attention to Daisy.
“No, I think I’d rather buy you a drink,” he says.
“Sorry, I’m working. Mac doesn’t let me drink on the clock,” Daisy laughs.
“After work then?” he presses, his smile getting wider, and somehow, more unsettling.
“Um, I’m here until closing,” she says.
“That’s fine. I’m something of a night owl these days,” he says. “What time do you close?”
“Two,” she answers, glancing at me and grinning before turning back to him. “I know a nice place we could go if you’re buying.”
“Then it’s a date,” he says, the tip of his tongue brushing his bottom lip. “I’ll come back for you.”
He turns away and a perplexed look settles on Daisy’s face. “My name is Daisy, by the way.”
“Xander,” he rasps, then he leaves the bar without another word.
The moment the door closes behind him, I relax. The room feels warmer. The air feels easier to breathe.
Daisy spins around with a grin on her face again. “See how easy that is? He walked in, we talked, and now we’re going out on a date!”
“Um, yeah, but… that guy didn’t give you the creeps?” I ask apprehensively.
“Not at all,” Daisy says. “You didn’t think he was hot? I like a little mystery, and he looks like he’s got some stories to tell.”
“Like where he hides the bodies,” I mutter.
“Oh, come on. Not everyone is a serial killer, Ansley. Besides, you’re the one fawning over an axe murderer,” she teases.
“We sure know how to pick ‘em,” I chuckle, sipping my water. “I hate to leave you here alone, but I’m tired, and I still need to do some stuff around my apartment.”
“You ever going to invite me over?” she asks, walking around the counter.
“Soon, I promise. I don’t want you tripping over boxes,” I say. “Maybe this weekend?”
“Sunday? I’m working Friday and Saturday night,” she offers.
“Sure…” I grin and mimic the man’s voice. “Then it’s a date. I’ll come back for you.”
“Stop it,” she laughs, slapping my arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
As soon as I step outside, the strange sensation returns.
Every shadow seems to move in my peripheral vision.
I pull my phone out of my purse and order an Uber.
Even if I haven’t been drinking, I’m definitely not walking home when I can’t shake this weird feeling.
Daisy waits with me until my Uber pulls up to the curb.
“Text me after you get back home from your date,” I say, giving her a quick hug.
“You’ll be sleeping,” she replies.
“That’s fine. At least I’ll know you’re okay when I wake up,” I say.
I get into the Uber. He already knows my destination, so he pulls away from the curb while I’m putting my seatbelt on. I look back and watch to make sure Daisy makes it back inside before watching the city lights turn into a blur.
The strange sensation lingers, even after I get home. I shake it off. It’s not the same as what I felt when the pale-skinned man walked into the bar. It’s different, but it still makes me feel uneasy, no matter how many times I try to dismiss it.
Why am I so sensitive lately?
The stress must really be getting to me.