Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
A fter Kimo leaves, Stan returns my purse to me, along with my favorite blazer and my phone, which were recovered after the police took in the Dumb-Ax Throwing employee for questioning. Once I’m in my apartment, showered and wearing a fresh change of clothes, I check my phone—which has been charging next to my bed—and find I have dozens upon dozens of missed calls and messages.
Whoa! Any hope I had that the story might have flown under the radar is blown to smithereens. Most of the messages are from Nina and Helen. I see one from Brian and Connie, which I scroll past without reading. Alina’s sent a message, and even Sasha has reached out, which is unusual for a non-holiday or birthday. I roll my eyes affectionately at my absentee youngest sister. She’s such a Michelle. Or rather, maybe such a Mary-Kate and/or Ashley, who notably never returned for the spin-off, Fuller House , even though they were begged repeatedly to show up for a cameo.
Whoa, is that your boyfriend? Alina asks. She sends along a few fire emojis and a few of the money with wings.
U alive? Sasha wants to know.
My heart warms at the exchange. I hadn’t realized my sisters would be so concerned. And, okay, it isn’t effusive, over-the-top care, but come on, we’re not gushy Americans. We keep our hearts buried under layers and layers, in the tiny center of our Matryoshka-doll selves.
Alive , I text back. And, not my boyfriend. I fire off a few eggplant emojis with it, though, to show we aren’t entirely platonic buddies either.
Helen and Nina are, predictably, more vocal with their concern. Are you all right???? Helen wants to know. What happened? Are you back?
What do you need? asks Nina, tagging on a few hearts.
These were sent earlier this morning, but presumably the offer is still on the table. If they’re busy , I reason with myself, I’m sure they’ll let me know .
I’m back.
Long story.
Just some company.
You don’t need to bring anything .
Even as I send the text, I know they’ll bring something. Probably too many food-based somethings that I’ll never be able to finish on my own. And probably too many somebodies, too , I muse morosely, before correcting myself. No, no. I reluctantly approve of Thad now, after seeing him in that unguarded moment with Helen. Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind and despise him with the fire of a thousand suns if he ever hurts Helen again, but that’s a given any time someone is dating your close friend. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to be cordial.
Helen and Nina both chime in within minutes that they’re on their way, which surprises me. I guess one perk of getting kidnapped is your friends won’t be too busy to come hang out in the middle of the day. While I wait for them to arrive, I face what I’ve been delaying and check my unread messages from Jay.
Hope you’re okay. It sounds like quite an ordeal you’ve been through. That must have been the HR department talking; it doesn’t sound like Jay at all. When you feel up to it, I need to have a word with you. Preferably Monday if you can manage .
Oh, дерьмо . I’m definitely getting fired.
* * *
As expected, when Helen and Nina show up, it’s with arms overflowing with junk food and Thad and Grady in tow. As soon as Helen sets down her bags, she engulfs me in a tight embrace. I put up some protest, because otherwise they might think something was wrong with me, but honestly, it feels good to be fussed over a little—especially when Nina joins in on the other side, making a Matilda sandwich out of me.
“You got kidnapped!” Helen exclaims after a moment, pulling back to examine me worriedly. “Why aren’t you in the hospital?”
“Because there’s nothing wrong with me.” I eye the loaf of French bread sticking out of one of the bags. “Nothing some bread won’t cure, anyway.”
I don’t normally splurge on complex carbohydrates, but hey, kidnapped! If not now, then when?
I brace myself to try to make nice with Thad, who I suppose I might have been a tiny bit rude to in the past, but he’s preoccupied with sizing up Stan, who let them in the door. “Who do you work with?”
Stan, in turn, sizes up Thad, looking none too impressed. I like him already. “Cipher Security.”
Helen perks up at that. “Ooh, my friends own that!” She tilts her head, correcting herself. “Acquaintances? Friends? Acquainta-friends?”
Stan frowns, looking like he would very much like to know more about that statement, but Thad intercepts, still clearly not convinced. “Did you notice the fire exit on the east wall?”
“Hanging low to the ground, could make for possible street-level entry,” Stan returns without skipping a beat. “We’ve reached out to the landlord about it, but in the meantime, I’ve made sure the window is locked so it can’t be opened from the outside. I’ve also seen the out-of-order security camera at the north entrance. The landlord says it’ll be fixed by Monday—and believe me, I’m gonna make sure he sticks by that. Fucking safety hazard for everyone in the building.”
Despite himself, Thad looks impressed. “Fair enough. Just wanted to make sure you were aware.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I mutter to Helen, confused by Thad’s weirdly territorial behavior. “Is he trying to get a job as a security officer or something?”
Helen looks at me like I’m a naive little doofus—a look I know well, since I’m usually the one giving it. “He’s worried about you, dummy. He wants to make sure you’re safe.”
I instinctively frown. No. She can’t be right. He can’t be...concerned. About me? We’re not even that close.
But as I peer over at Thad’s phone and see he’s trying to discreetly do a background check on Stan, I realize it must be true. Thad is concerned about my well-being. An unexpected surge of warmth fills my chest. I know he’s probably only doing this because Helen asked him to make sure I’d be safe, not because he particularly cares for me as a person, but still. It’s...nice. I attempt to give him my friendliest smile when he finally meets my gaze. “Hello, Thaddeus.”
Thad blinks at me in surprise, clearly taken aback by my attempt at playing nice. Hmm. I guess I’ll have to work on that a bit. Recovering, he offers me an awkward smile in return, but not before shooting a quick glance in Helen’s direction and seeing her look of encouragement. “Hey, Matilda. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Well, we aren’t exactly exchanging friendship bracelets, but it’s a start. Bracing myself, I turn to face the only person I haven’t greeted yet. “Hello, Grady.” Then, guessing it’s better to address the elephant in the room, get it out of the way, I add, “Sorry I propositioned you for sex the other day.”
Nina chokes on the water she was sipping. Helen and Thad both do a double take at me. Ah, so...he didn’t tell them. For some reason, I assumed he would’ve. I guess this could have just been a private conversation between him and me, but too little too late. It’s already out in the open.
Grady flushes a little but holds my gaze, nodding. “That’s alright, then. No harm done.”
I extend my hand to him. “Friends?”
“Friends.” He gives my hand a firm, warm shake. It’s solemn between us for a moment, until his eyes sparkle, and that’s all the warning I get. “As in, Chandler and Phoebe–style friends. Not Ross and Rachel friends, yeah?”
Helen and Nina both laugh, seeming more surprised than amused. I grin at Grady, pleased to be in on the joke. “I know that reference! And, deal.” I shudder. “If I ever give up Paris for a man, please shoot me...”
* * *
After that, we find ways to fill the day. We play cards and board games. We go for walks. We snack, and we watch TV. Not every single person participates in every activity, but no matter what I do, the unwritten rule seems to be that I shouldn’t be left alone, with the rare exception of using the bathroom. Even then, I’m not totally convinced someone isn’t outside the door listening in, just in case someone tries to snatch me through the third-story window. (Ridiculous.) It should all feel incredibly stifling, but it doesn’t. It feels...safe.
It’s only when the men have gone off to get supplies to make dinner that I notice the overnight bags by the door. “What are those?” I ask in confusion.
Helen and Nina exchange a guilty look. “We thought you might want us to stay with you, just while you adjust to being back,” Nina explains. “But no pressure! We’ll give you space if you need it.”
Helen doesn’t look as convinced of this, but I can tell she’s trying to respect my wishes and not smother me. “Mm-hmm. But if you don’t need it, we are ready to stay here for as long as you need us!”
For the second time today, I feel overwhelmed by a warm feeling spreading in my chest. It’s a good feeling, but it also makes me feel awkward, like I don’t quite know where to look. “One night shouldn’t hurt. If it will make you two feel better.”
“It will,” Helen answers quickly, before I can take it back. And with that, it’s decided.
* * *
When there’s a break in the games, I sneak into my bedroom to check my work email on my laptop. I haven’t gotten anything else from Jay, which might be a good sign. Or a very bad sign. Дерьмо . I suppose I’ll just have to wait until our meeting on Monday.
I move to shut the laptop when another thought strikes me. Without second-guessing myself, I type Kimo’s name in my search bar.
Thousands upon thousands of results come up. I look at some of the headlines and scroll through pictures of him for longer than I’d care to admit, analyzing his relationship to any woman who happens to be in the frame with him. Relative? Assistant? Friend? Lover? He strikes me as the type of person who makes connections easily, based on what I’ve observed. What might feel like an unusually close bond to me is probably just his normal daily interaction with a stranger.
I’ll be seeing you, soon .
“ Идиот ,” I reprimand myself sharply.
I mean to go back to my friends, but instead I find myself searching for one last thing: Kimo Kapono Kidnapped.
There are fewer results this time, but still too many for one person. As I suspected from Kimo’s behavior during our kidnapping, and as he later confirmed, this was not his first time. Reading between the headlines, it seems like he’s been kidnapped at least twice before—perhaps another side effect of being so open and friendly and trusting with strangers.
“He’s the one who needs the bodyguard, not me,” I mutter to myself. I want to be irritated at Kimo, but instead I find myself feeling something even more troubling.
I’m... worried .
“ Идиот ,” I tell myself again, finally shutting my laptop.