Chapter III Cat Got Your Tongue （Lena） #2
He doesn’t know I work here, and ideally, we’ll keep it that way.
My heart starts pounding. My hands go slick with sweat.
I finally reached the point where I didn’t think about him for months. Maybe longer. Life has been perfectly great without him haunting my memory.
But good things don’t last when you’re Lena Joly.
Deep breath.
I hate how he still has the power to turn my stomach inside out, even after all this time. All the anxiety, the humiliation, the panic, comes rushing back.
Footsteps. He’s heading to Dr. Ezzie’s office, I think.
I wait until I hear the door close before I slip back out of the closet and shut the door behind me.
Crap, that was close.
But I can’t run. As tempting as it is to get the hell out of here, I have cleaning to do and supplies to unpack. Trish gets to head home once we close to the public, but techs don’t get that luxury.
Calm down.
Who cares if he’s here? Maybe he’s a client now.
But I didn’t hear anything about an animal. And there was nothing on Ezzie’s schedule about an appointment this late.
That’s so unlikely, it hurts. Harry Jay never showed the slightest interest in animals.
Pretty typical when you’re the bastard son of a slime mold and a scorpion.
Pure scum of the earth disguised as a charming young man with an old-timey mustache who can talk anyone into massive trouble.
At least, that’s how he was in college, when I knew him—and I seriously doubt he’s changed. If anything, he’s probably gotten worse.
I scowl as I disinfect the table, scrubbing in anger.
How am I dealing with him again? After I blocked him and his scumbag friends years ago.
I had no good reason to ever see him again.
And too much reason to think about him, to hate myself for ever falling for his crap.
Trouble is, you don’t just shrug and get over a bad relationship like that. Not after what he pulled.
My hands are shaking, and I stare at them, unsure if what I’m feeling right now is anger or embarrassment or just pure adrenaline stabbing through my veins.
But there’s only one raw emotion closing my throat, and that’s the one I won’t acknowledge.
Fear.
God, I hate the way he makes me feel so cornered. My brain doesn’t recognize that I’m at work and totally safe.
I force myself to finish up so I can get out of here, but about half an hour later, just as I’m grabbing my last box of supplies to bring to the back room and unpack, a deep voice calls my name.
“Lena?”
One word, half question and half hungry predator.
My body locks up. He knows I’m here.
No time to dive into a cleaning closet now.
I don’t dare turn as he stalks closer, herding me against the door with an oily smile I’d love to rip right off his face.
I can see his reflection in the glass door.
Still just as tall and handsome as ever with that coppery hair brushed back off his forehead and those laser-green eyes.
Still wearing his trademark mustache, this ridiculous thing from the 1900s that’s shaped and waxed until it’s almost wider than his face.
I thought that facial hair made him fun and easygoing once. Now, it’s never made me feel more like I’m being hunted.
It takes me back to when I was a teenager, young and impressionable.
Back when I thought he wasn’t a terrible guy.
Back when I would have done anything for him.
Back when I was a ginormous idiot.
Now, the only thing I want to do is run at him full force and throw him through the door.
But my lungs tremble, and I can feel my heart skipping dangerously.
A smirk flits across his face, telling me he can see my confusion and maybe my fear too.
I’ve never hated another person like I hate him.
But he just stands there, watching it pass over my face without caring in the slightest. Why hasn’t he come closer yet? At least then I could kick him in the balls.
It’s a real shame physical violence is frowned on in service jobs.
He folds his arms and leans against the wall like he owns the place.
He’s shameless arrogance stuffed in a suit.
I won’t be falling for it again.
“Harry,” I bite off, mustering the courage to finally turn and face him.
“Small world, LeeLee.” His smirk looks carnivorous. “Nice seeing each other, huh?”
No. If I never saw you again before I died, it would be too soon.
It’s only respect for Dr. Ezzie that keeps me from saying it.
And knowing I have bills waiting. Plus, I love my job. Even more than I hate him.
In a way, it’s nice knowing he isn’t the biggest force in my life right now. Even if it feels like it in the moment, standing face-to-face with a monster.
When I don’t say anything else, the smile slowly melts off his face. That mustache tilts down like a pitchfork with his frown.
Then he pushes off the wall in one quick movement.
“Cat must’ve ripped that little tongue right out. Pity, there’s so much to catch up on,” he mutters. “Be like that, baby doll. We won’t have to meet again if your boss is as smart as she looks.”
Without another word, he brushes past me and slams both hands on the back door, throwing it open.
I hold my breath, shaking like a little girl with a mountain lion stalking past.
Then I collapse against the wall in a heap, the box of gauze I was holding clattering to the floor.
What the hell is going on?
Why was he talking to Dr. Ezzie?