30. Harper
HARPER
“This was left here for you too!” The barista beams at me, handing over a small envelope with a little heart drawn on the front.
I can feel my cheeks start to flame, the possibility of Colton teasing me with dirty polaroids throughout my day too high to not immediately be my first consideration.
I’ve heard the expression that people do dumb things when they are in love, but dirty things is news to me.
After a night of non-stop ‘love’ on Saturday after Colton’s meltdown, and then dinner on Sunday with Grant, Sadie, Wade, Stella and Gus, I was utterly exhausted. It was honestly a shock I made it this far on Monday without already stepping away to head to the café.
“They said to tell you they only have eyes for you, and said to draw this on your cup instead of your name. They promised you would understand what it means,” she swoons, handing me the paper coffee cup and prattling on about everlasting love.
I feel the color that just blossomed on my cheeks drain instantly as I turn the cup, the Jester’s symbol drawn in a cute pink sharpie on the side of the cream coffee cup.
This is my favorite coffee shop, just down the street from the Cirque and the one place I venture off site for a little jolt when the days drag on.
I’ve been sneaking away to come here since we opened our doors, a nice break in my day when I just needed a few moments that aren’t filled with questions about boas or how many rhinestones on a costume is too many rhinestones.
Well, I used to sneak away by myself, now I don’t do anything alone. The cute shop, Jolt, won over Wade quickly enough with their decadent cupcakes and cookies, letting me in on the secret of Wade’s guilty pleasure of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
Wade then took it upon himself to share this hidden gem with Colton, who started running out on his own or coming with me for a midday coffee run.
Now they take turns, either Wade or Colton walking down the street to the shop with me, usually mid mornings once rehearsals are in full swing and we can scurry off before there is another fire that needs putting out.
Do I have coffee at the club? Of course, but that’s not the point. This is my safe space to take a beat. Well, it was.
I give a strained smile, cutting off the poor barista as she is gushing about her boyfriend and how he does little things like that for her all the time.
Not the romantic gesture I was hoping for today, shoving the envelope into my bag to hide from Wade as he picks out some baked goods at the case to bring back to the club with him. Bent at the waist and nose practically pressed against the glass in an effort to be one with the tray of cookies.
I’m not sure why I don’t tell him about the envelope and the scribbled symbol, wrapping my hand tight around the cup to hide the marking.
He’s the head of my security, my personal bodyguard, I should tell him.
I should let him know the threat is getting closer and closer to home, but I can’t bring myself to admit this would be another win for them.
A way to isolate me further, cutting off my access to the outside world, because the minute I tell anyone about this is the minute I lose the ability to make these little trips, and any others like them.
The logical part of me knows it would be to keep me safe, but the other side is screaming that it would drive me insane to be cooped up, never going anywhere but Cirque and home, over and over until I die.
This is their plan, this is how they scare me.
Not with knives or death threats, but with flowers and coffee, because it shows that they know me.
They know where I get my coffee and what I order, they know how to get into my club without being seen, they know when the cameras are on and where they are.
They are my biggest fan, and I’m chasing a ghost.
“You sure you aren’t getting sick too?” Sadie whispers to me as we end the employee meeting Monday night, watching the hordes of people pick up their bags and shuffle to the exit.
It’s been a long weekend and with a nasty virus running through the club, I’ve been given the perfect excuse to clear everyone out for a few days while I figure out what to do.
I met with Marcus, Tessa, Sadie and Wade before we asked everyone to convene, making sure they would be okay with me telling everyone to take the next few days off and resume rehearsals on Wednesday.
Claiming that by giving everyone a little more rest we can nip this sickness in the bud before I’m the only one left to tend bar and tell knock-knock jokes on stage.
Tessa and Marcus were happy to take the extra days off, though Marcus spent a good 5 minutes making sure to remind his teams that they needed to make sure they were still stretching and practicing the basics, so they don’t come back “stale”. Ever the workaholic.
“No, just tired. But thanks for letting me know I’m looking great,” I tease her as we walk into my office and shut the door.
“I don’t mean it like that. You just look a little pale. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yup.” I say, trying to sound nonchalant and worry-free.
Liar. Liar. Liar.
“Probably should eat something other than cookies and coffee,” I quip, circling my desk to plop down into my plush desk chair.
“Breakfast of champions,” she retorts, offended I would blame cookies.
“Have you found anything?” I ask her, trying not to think about the photos of me hidden in my desk drawers.
The envelope from Jolt was filled with photos of me through the entire week, dinner with the group on Sunday night, walking into Colton’s apartment hand in hand, getting out of the car with Wade holding the door open.
A dozen of them, all taken from far away by someone who knows what they are doing.
“I’ll keep following the flower trail, but I can’t find anything out of the ordinary or who brought them into the office. The cameras outside the office on the floor don’t show anyone coming over here during the time you were gone.” She blows out a breath, frustration coating her face.
“You’ll figure it out. They made a mistake somewhere, and we will find it when they do,” I reassure her. If anyone is going to find out how someone keeps messing with our security system, it’s going to be Sadie. The fact someone was able to mess with it at all is honestly impressive.
“Yeah, okay,” she mutters, eyes glazed over and distracted as she stands to leave the office.
I watch her leave, shoulders stiff and tense.
I hate that I haven’t told her about the photos, especially knowing that I probably won’t make it much longer without confessing to her and accepting my solitary confinement.
I wanted to give myself the day to come up with a plan, to find a solution that didn’t involve me hiding away.
The day has come and gone and so far, I’ve come up empty, which means once the rest of the staff has cleared out, I’ll have to show my hand.
I hear a sultry caress of notes slide through the crack in the door, Stella’s voice soothing the worry in my soul.
When she asked if she could stay to practice a few new songs, knowing at least a few of us would be staying behind I told her it was fine, knowing damn well that whatever I told Sadie was going to be shared with her, anyway.
Better to bring her into the fold than her hearing everything second hand.
The fact that the whole staff doesn’t know what’s been going on is proof she can keep the information close to the chest.
The song is sad and desperate, about lovers who missed their chance and now look back in regret for words unsaid.
It’s like Stella saw my face at the meeting and decided anything uplifting would be unwelcome right now.
She isn’t wrong. I’ve been sulking and brooding all day, desperate for the moment I can cocoon myself in Colton’s arms and hear that everything will be all right.
Like my thoughts summoned him, Colton comes into my office, lighting up my face for the first time today in a soft smile. He shuts the door behind him, pausing to take a deep breath before he turns to me, wiping the smile off my face in an instant.
I’m out of my chair immediately, rounding the desk and meeting him in the center of the office.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, not bothering to cover the note of panic in my voice as my eyes rake over his body, checking for signs of injury or pain.
“It will be fine, it will be fine,” he mutters, wrapping me in his arms, burrowing my face against his chest, chin resting atop my head.
Does he know about what happened at the coffee shop? I welcome the embrace, knowing I have him in my corner no matter what this news brings. I pull away, arms still held tight to him as I look up, “What’s wrong Colton?”
His hand caresses my cheek before he leans his mouth down to mine. It isn’t a rough kiss, but it’s filled with longing and need. I kiss him back with the same passion, I’m right here.
“You know I love you, right?” He asks, forehead pressed to mine as a loud crash outside the office shakes the walls.
I shift to pull away, but he holds me firm, his hands shifting to cradle the side of my head, desperation leaking into his questions.
“Tell me you know I love you. That you know this is real.”
I look up at him, feeling my stomach turn at the panic in his request. I’ve heard him say the word love so many times these last few days.
Whispered against my skin as he made my body pulse with pleasure.
In the shower, sung loudly and off-key, using the showerhead as a makeshift microphone.
Each time the single word has sent a ripple effect through my body, butterflies fluttering wildly at the declaration.
This time, the declaration is sinking into my body like claws, sharp and jarring, a low pool of dread settling where the butterflies used to fly.
The music cuts off with a shout, and I turn away to go to the door, needing to see what is happening outside these walls, but Colton stops me with a hand on my arm, spinning me to face him.
“Please, Sunshine, I need to hear it,” he says, eyes pleading as his hold on my arm loosens.
I step towards him, shifting his hand so it’s clasped in mine, giving it a single squeeze as I answer him, “Of course this is real.”
He closes his eyes for a beat before he releases my hand and takes a step back from me. Colton brings his wrist up to his mouth, pushing on the dial with his other hand before speaking into the face, “10-24, I have eyes on the ringleader.”