Chapter 26

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

CINDEL

Last night, I fell asleep envisioning who the man behind the mask could be.

I definitely smelt smoke on him last night, but it was a musty odor, closer to a cigar.

Sometimes Brodi smoked them with his friends when they went out.

Of course, I know this man is not Brodi.

Now, that I’ve had his dick in my mouth I can confirm, this is NOT him.

Everything with my stalker is new. Better than I’ve ever experienced. Even with his face completely covered… I can tell when he’s looking at me. Whether he’s checking in or asking permission, I want to say yes to everything. Yes, because unlike everyone else… he seems to care about me.

When I wake alone, thoughts of the man clad in black still looming, my hand inadvertently travels beneath my sleep shorts.

I rub lazy circles with the latest memory of my stalker in those opened cargo pants.

What could have happened afterwards? If there wasn’t someone banging on the door?

If we had all the time in the world…? He’s beginning to consume my thoughts and now my dreams. It’s been so long since I can remember a pleasant dream.

The unknown, once a shadowy corner I steered clear of, now beckons me.

I’m drawn to it. Drawn to him. I’m falling for this man and I’m not even sure who “he” is.

I’m not scared, though, but intrigued. What does my stalker have in store for me?

The feeling of being watched brings me comfort.

Like no matter how shitty of a day I may have, I know I’m not facing it on my own.

My calendar reminds me I have plans with a certain someone who has trouble with recognizing boundaries.

She wandered into my room without permission once and I may have been an accessory to petty theft after our visit to the tea party ship, but she’s genuinely really easy to be around.

Today is the first Friday I’ve had off in a while, however I was unequivocally “busy” according to Mairead’s text.

After nearly being dragged to Salem, I was almost too afraid to object to her plans to go shopping.

I’m also going to try and return Mairead’s coat she left in my booth, at the Bazaar.

Surprisingly it smells of cigars too. I shouldn’t fester here with my thoughts, which is pretty much all I would do if I wasn’t forced outside. Some girl time might do me good.

I sure wasn’t hanging out with my roommate much anymore.

With Andrea’s panties in a twist about me seeing Eamon, I just figured I’d give her the space she needs.

Maybe it will work itself out? I was given a time more than a destination from Mairead, so I’m dressed and ready in front of my apartment, per her instructions.

I knew I was in for an interesting day when a shiny BMW pulled up to the curb.

The driver steps out of the vehicle, rounds the car, and opens the door for me. Instantly, I text Mairead. Wondering if she meant to send a fancy car with a chauffeur and not a cab. A thumbs up emoji was all I got.

When I climb into the back, I was surprised to find leather seats and sparkling water with glasses. Why in the hell did Mairead ever choose to work at Star Mart? Shaken from my thoughts on my friend’s finances, the driver informs me that we were heading to Copley Place.

It’s an enclosed shopping mall. Multi-story, glass ceilings, luxury stores, and incredible views overlooking the city.

After paying rent, getting my bank account to a positive balance, and going grocery shopping this week, I might be able to afford a salted pretzel.

Not used to ‘being in the green,’ I want to keep a buffer, in case I ever find myself without a job.

During the ride over, a puzzling text comes in from my uncle.

Uncle: Hello, Cindel, I know this is unexpected, but would you be available for an earlier breakfast date? I know you're a busy girl. I’ve just been a little lonely lately.

I smile at myself, knowing my uncle has never asked for anything. Him wanting companionship from me is touching. I will always find the time for him in a city that nearly swallowed me whole, three years ago. I respond immediately.

Cindel: Absolutely! I would love to have breakfast with you! I’m so happy you asked.

He sends me a peach and a winky emoji. Making me laugh so loud, it causes the chauffeur to peer at me in the rearview mirror, the rest of the drive. I’m confident my uncle has no idea what some of those little symbols truly mean.

The driver parks the sleek black car beside the upscale shopping plaza, then proceeds round the vehicle to open my door. I suddenly feel out of place as I look down at my thrifted, grungy attire. I wasn’t expecting to face an outing so… opulent.

As soon as the door opens and the driver helps me out, a tornado of red hair comes hurtling toward me. Mairead wraps me in a hug, before lifting me off the ground with surprising strength for such a little thing.

“Aaaaah, girls’ day!! I’m so glad we finally can hang out again!

” I reach back into the car to retrieve her fur coat but waves it off as nothing.

She insists I leave it in the car for the driver to handle.

This is her personal driver! It blows my mind how some people have enough money to hire drivers.

Meanwhile, I’m hoping for a few extra singles in my wallet, to afford the two-ply toilet paper. Stop it! I tell myself. You don’t know her life or her situation. Don’t be so judgy.

Mairead takes me by the hand and hauls me toward the shiny glass entryway of the mall. Man, she’s excited!

As soon as we enter the mall, it’s like a punch to the gut with festivity.

Decorated fir and pine trees line the lobby; twinkling icicles pass between railings overhead, and the wafting aroma of winter spice and fresh tree invade my senses.

It’s only November first for fuck’s sake!

I hate the holidays. This is going to be a trying day.

By the time we finish half the shops on the first floor, my feet are killing me.

I should have chosen more practical footwear, as she insists, I accompany her to every single store.

I did learn something new today. Apparently, you can buy stuff and have the store hold it while you shop.

I guess it’s common practice for someone who likes to go shopping.

Mairead bought something literally, every place we went.

I honestly don’t even know if she likes what she’s buying; it seems more like crossing items off a checklist than an earnest transaction.

When Mairead finally decides to take a break from spending a small fortune, I am thrilled to stop walking and get something to eat.

Near the food court, I hop in line for that pretzel I’ve been craving all day. She scoffs and all but pulls me away from my coveted treat.

“Eww no way. We’re going to an Italian place around the corner.”

Taking me by the arm, she escorts me toward the white linen restaurant with employees in a black and white uniform.

“Mairead, I can’t afford this. You enjoy, I’ll grab a pretzel and peruse the bookstore.”

Despite my protests, she continues pushing me toward her desired place.

“Oh, don’t be silly. My treat!”

She’s more generous than any previous friend or boyfriend... also seemingly wealthier than anyone I’ve ever been around. She attempts to wine and dine me, I order the least expensive thing on the menu and insist on water to drink.

After she downs two glasses of wine prior to bread arriving, she attempts to ‘wine me’ some more.

I politely decline, even though I’ve told her at least three times; I don’t drink.

Mairead is confident, witty, and carefree; especially with her spending.

I should consider her a good friend, even if it may be just for a season.

People don’t seem to stick around long with me. So, only time can tell.

“So Cindel, any special someone or someones in your life?”

She sips from her large wine glass while indulging in a cheesecake topped with a decorative honeycomb. Mairead ordered two desserts. I could never say no to dessert.

“That’s a complicated question.” I slowly chewed the last bite of my cannoli, savoring every delicious morsel. It’s incredible, but Mike’s Pastry in the North End still gets my vote for best cannoli.

I can pull truths from the situation.

“He thinks he’s funny. Sometimes a little reserved and puzzling too. It’s like two sides of the same coin; I just never know which version of him I’m going to get.”

She drains another glass, raising her hand to motion the waiter to refill her drink.

“Have you fucked him yet?” She asks pointedly as the poor server tries to keep their composure. Her expression morphs in a fraction of a second from light-hearted to interrogative.

The water I drink goes down the wrong tube, allowing me long enough to think while I cough.

“I… I haven't yet.”

She swirls the rose liquid, by holding the delicate stem of the glass.

“Soooo… you’ve done other stuff? Do tell!” She tucks her hand just under her chin, leaning forward as the intensity she once displayed just melts away to giddy interest.

“Well…” I begin pushing the cuticles deeper into their beds, just beneath the table’s linen. There’s no harm in telling her about what I did with the mystery stranger, while weaving in Eamon. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to about it anyways.

So, I kind of unload it on her. Telling her about the office-like detention center at the zoo and how he first explored my body.

She’s shocked but insistent that I keep going.

I move onto the steakhouse date and the movie followed by shared cherry pie.

Then I recall the steamy rendezvous at last night’s Halloween Bash.

I left out the part about his face being covered because, rationalizing that there may or may not be two people in this story.

Sorting through that just isn’t in my wheelhouse right now.

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