Chapter 1 - Simon #2
She climbs into the taxi, and they pull out into the street again.
I follow.
The next stop is to drop her off.
Blair smiles when she thanks the driver and says goodbye. She looks calm but walks quickly toward her front door.
A street-level apartment on the bottom of a duplex.
I switch my car off, parked far enough away that she won’t see me if she looks out of her window.
Pulling my phone out, I type her name and address into a message.
Find out who she is. Full name. Phone number. I hit send.
The reply comes quickly from my private investigator.
Will do. Give me a few minutes.
My eyes narrow toward her windows as lights come on in her apartment. Is she calling the police? Is she freaking out after witnessing a murder?
My phone beeps.
Blair Reynolds. Civilian. No known Bratva contacts. Twenty-five years old. Works at Book Lore, a secondhand book shop in the city.
He gives me her number and asks me if I need anything else.
All good. Thanks.
A civilian’s phone is far easier to hack than someone from the mafia, someone like Lucas.
From my car, I easily work my way past the generic firewalls that come installed on phones these days, and in no time at all, I’m going through her messages. She hasn’t phoned anyone. She hasn’t messaged anyone to report a crime.
It doesn’t mean she won’t. She still might be in shock.
But at least I can keep tabs on this now.
***
Over the next few days, I follow Blair everywhere.
I dive deeper and deeper into her life, her routine, her habits.
She’s quiet, reserved, polite, friendly, and helpful.
I watch her at the bookstore, talking to customers and keeping the filing system up to date.
I follow her when she takes her daily lunch break and walks to a nearby coffee stand, ordering the same thing every time. A croissant and an iced coffee.
She sits on a bench overlooking the ocean with her long, dark, chocolate colored hair pulled up into a high, messy bun.
She is strikingly beautiful, but I don’t think she realizes it.
When men smile at her, she looks away, shy perhaps.
She dresses in loose jeans, a t-shirt, and plain white sneakers.
Her figure is gorgeous, and I find myself wondering what she would look like in a pair of tailored jeans made for her.
Her features are delicate, almost pixie-like.
Her dark brown eyes are big and curious as she watches the world around her.
In the evening after work, she goes straight home and makes herself dinner before curling up on her light grey sofa to read a book.
Nothing she does indicates that she knows what she saw the other night.
And on the fourth day of stalking her, I came to the unquestionable conclusion that I don’t have to worry about her. She isn’t going to be a problem at all.
It’s just past six, and she’s getting ready to close up at the bookstore.
I could drive away right now, never worry about this again, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off her. Her quiet nature and comfortable routine have captivated me. Or is it those gorgeous brown eyes and her soft, plump-lipped smile?
Without thinking, I climb out of the car and jog across the street, hurrying into the bookstore.
It’s reckless and silly. There is no reason to be doing this, but I can’t help myself.
She glances at me as I walk in, but only for a fraction of a second.
“We’re just about to close, but there is no rush because I’m still busy here.
Just shout if you need any help with anything specific, and I’ll be right there,” she says politely, her eyes turned down onto her paperwork.
Her perfume catches me as I walk past the desk she’s standing behind.
Sweet, like Magnolia flowers. It’s captivating.
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I say. But she isn’t paying me too much attention. She’s frowning at something, scrunching her nose as though she’s noticed an error.
This is the first time I’ve spoken to her, and for some reason, it has my heart beating a little faster. She is even more beautiful close up. I’ve been watching her through windows for days.
Seeing her without a glass between us is quite different. The details of her face become richer. Her dark lashes, the softness of her skin, the soft flush of peach on her lips.
Realizing I’m staring, I turn toward the closest bookshelf and start browsing.
What the fuck am I even doing in here? Just leave. I’ve been so busy tracking her that I haven’t even gone through the information I got from Lucas’s phone the other day. My entire plan was paused. Not that I mind delays. Delays only increase the satisfaction when you do eventually reach your goal.
Through the open shelving, peering between books, I watch her tidying up the desk and packing away today’s sales documents.
“Blair, we can close up now,” a guy’s voice calls from the back somewhere.
I hear his footsteps as he makes his way to the front of the shop.
Her colleague. Tall, skinny, dark hair, and a wide smile.
I guess one could call him a good-looking nerd.
He doesn’t come to the front of the shop often, not since I’ve been watching anyway. He tends to stay hidden in the back.
“We still have a customer,” she whispers, gesturing with her head in my direction.
The guy nods and lowers his voice. “What are you doing after work?”
“I’m making avocado and prawn salad and reading the last few chapters of The Silent Patient.”
“You’re reading that one again?” he laughs.
“Third time. It’s really good. You should stop singularly focusing on your fantasy and dragon novels and try expanding your taste a little,” she teases him.
He shifts nervously and clears his throat.
“Listen, Blair, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get dinner with me tonight?”
My body spikes with annoyance. Did the guy just ask her out? My shoulders go tense, and I freeze, listening intently for her reply.
“Um, like dinner? Um, a date?” she stammers hesitantly.
“Yes,” he laughs. “Like a date. If you’re free?”
She glances down at what she’s wearing. She looks back at him, biting her lip as though this is a very big decision. Finally, to my horror, she replies, “Ok, sure. But I want to go home, shower, and change first. I can meet you somewhere?”
Jealously snakes through me in an unexpected surge.
I don’t want her to go on a date with this guy. I don’t want her to go on a date with anyone!