I have a stalker.
The evidence is too strong to ignore. That’s to say nothing of my intuition. Over the past weeks, I’ve felt a presence looming, watching.
At first, I chalked it up to nerves, or maybe even poor nutrition—but anxiety doesn’t steal your necklace. Nor does it place pearls on your nightstand during the middle of the night.
I’ve woken up to eight of them in the last week.
After scanning the Sugar Cube to confirm there are no customers near the register, I look at Harper. She’s cleaning the coffee machine with a rag. When she meets my gaze, she grips the metal spout and runs her hand up and down while waggling her brows.
“What?” she says, feigning innocence. “A girl’s gotta practice.”
“If that’s the size you’re working with, then you won’t have to practice for long.”
She squeals. “Where has this Calista been all my life? Dare I say that I’ve found a secret perverted side hiding underneath your prim and proper exterior?”
I shake my head with a grin. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“I do have that effect on people.”
“Harper, can I ask you a question?” When she nods, I take a preparatory breath, steeling myself for her response. “Hypothetically, if someone had a stalker, what necessary steps would that person need to take to remove said stalker from their life? Hypothetically.”
“Wow. Politician’s daughter much?” Her face loses all traces of mirth. “Seriously, Cal, what’s going on?”
I bite my lip, working the tender skin between my teeth. “I’m not sure.”
“But something’s happening, or you wouldn’t have asked me such a crazy, hypothetical, question.” She walks over to stand next to me and takes my hand, her gaze clouded with worry while avidly searching mine. “You can tell me.”
“I think someone’s been in my apartment,” I whisper, all but forcing the words from my mouth. Hearing them out loud gives them life, makes this real. “I’m so scared.”
“Holy fuck balls. Okay, I want to know everything, and don’t leave out a single detail.”
I launch into the story of how I went to bed wearing the pearl necklace my father gave me on my sixteenth birthday, only for a single pearl to be sitting on my nightstand when I woke the next morning. The necklace was missing, obviously, but nothing else was taken.
However, I don’t tell her that I’ve received more individual pearls. Instead, I confess that my feelings of being watched intensified. I tell her I’ve felt this way since the day of my father’s funeral but wrote it off as grief and due to the stress of finding myself penniless.
Harper lets me talk without interruption. She even shushes a customer who asks for a cake pop, then goes so far as to get me one while ignoring them.
I grip the stick tightly, hoping it’ll stop my hands from shaking. It doesn’t work. I’m afraid nothing will ease the fear and that it’ll only continue to grow.
“Isn’t that what happens to stalker’s victims?” I ask. “Don’t they end up dead?”
Harper grabs my shoulders. “First of all, we’re not going to let that happen to you. Second, I need a moment to think.” After ten seconds of silence, she nods. “Suspects. That’s where we should start. Give me a list of potential stalkers. And go.”
“I have no idea.”
“Any past relationships that ended badly?”
I shake my head. “My ex-fiancé called off the engagement, so it’s unlikely he wants me back. I haven’t spoken to Adam since he took the ring back.”
“Oof, that’s cold. What about someone you rejected?”
“I haven’t dated anyone else.”
Her lips pull to the side. “This is beyond me. When in doubt, ask Google. Unfortunately, being stalked isn’t on my list of personal experiences. Now, if you asked me how to Houdini yourself out of some Shibari knots, then I’m your girl.”
“Unfortunately?”
She waves a hand in dismissal before retrieving her cell phone from her apron pocket. “What to do when you think you’re being stalked,” she mumbles to herself.
I peer over her shoulder. “‘Avoid all contact.’ That’s going to be hard since I have no idea who it is.”
“‘Be alert and proactive to protect yourself,’” she reads. “Yeah, no shit. Don’t fail me now, Google. I’m counting on you. ‘Enhance security measures.’” She looks at me. “Do you have a gun?”
My eyes widen. “Do you?”
“Not yet.”
“I have pepper spray.”
“Put a knife under your pillow too,” she says. “What about a security system?”
I blow out a breath, disturbing the tendrils of hair resting on my cheek. “You know how much I get paid. It’s not like I can afford it, even with the extra hours I’m working.”
“‘Inform key people in your life,’” she continues. “Check. Once we tell Alex, that’ll be another check.” She jerks up her head to pierce me with a hard stare. “What about Mr. I-want-to-ride-your-dick-Bennett? He was super protective over you that one time.”
“And?”
“And maybe he’ll care this time.”
I cross my arms. “No. I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” She sweeps her gaze over my face as I fight off a blush. “A lot of something.”
I bow my head, unable to look at her. “If I tell you, will you promise not to tease me about it?”
She salutes me. “Cross my heart and hope to die while in the middle of an orgasm.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips. It fades when I think of Hayden. “So… I might’ve gotten a job at T&A. Just long enough to pay my bills,” I say holding out my hands in supplication. “However, Mr. Bennett made me quit.”
“He what?”
I nod. “He marched me out of there like I was his unruly child and told me I could never go back. I think I worked there for a whopping three seconds before he showed up.”
“Niiiice.”
“No, not nice.” I frown at her. “Are you not hearing me?”
“Kind of. I’m distracted by dick right now.”
“Harper…” I say, my tone full of warning.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Because T&A was burned to a crisp last week. It’s nothing but ash, so it’s not like you’d still have a job anyway. The way I see it, Mr. Spank-me-harder Bennett did you a favor.”
I press my lips together. Although I want to admit she’s right, I can’t. But only because I don’t want to be indebted to a man like Hayden. The payments would be steep. Perhaps even devastating.
“So, back to your stalker problem,” she says. “Have you received any messages or anything from this person?”
I shake my head. “I don’t have a cell phone, and I haven’t found any weird papers lying around. Actually, nothing except my necklace was taken. The rest of my apartment was untouched.”
She gasps. “You don’t have a cell phone? How do you even live? This is worse than I thought. You can’t even fucking call 9-1-1. Unbelievable.”
I smile at the customer who walks up to the counter, silently grateful for this small reprieve. The transaction is over too quickly, and I sigh. Although I’m glad to have confided in Harper, it’s forced me to realize how dangerous my situation is. Not only that, it’s bleak.
My shoulders slump as any remaining hope seeps from my body. “I need money. If I had some, I could move, or at the very least, I could buy a few security cameras and a cell phone.”
“Well, you’re not working at a place like T&A again. That’s for sure.”
“Then what can I do? I’m already working long shifts here. I don’t have time for anything else really.”
Harper grabs me for a hug and squeezes me tight. “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”
“Thank you.”
The rest of my shift goes by in a blur. My thoughts cycle around and around like a whirlpool until I feel like I’m drowning in the magnitude of my problem. In the end, I can’t think of a single solution that doesn’t involve me becoming a prostitute.
Or asking Hayden for help.
The real question is: do I want to face the lawyer or deal with my stalker?
I rush over to where Harper stands by the coffee machine. “I’ve got an idea, but it’s crazy.”
“I love crazy.”
“I can get the money from Hayden.”
She scrunches her forehead. “From who?”
“Mr. Bennett.”
Her eyes widen while the green hue sparkles. “You’re going to Pretty Woman his ass.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Have you lived under a rock your entire life? Good grief. It’s the story of a rich man who falls in love with a prostitute.”
I frown. “In that case, I’m not going to do what you’re thinking, but it does involve the lawyer. There’s a piece of information he wants from me,” I say, carefully choosing my words. “If I can offer to sell that to him for enough money, then I can move out of my apartment and buy a security system to keep me safe.”
Harper nods slowly. “I think that could work. Are you going to tell me what that piece of information is?”
“It’s… private.”
“More private than you having a stalker?”
I nod. “It’s something pertaining to my life before now. I don’t like talking about it.”
Her gaze softens, and her voice gentles. “Okay, honey. If you think that’ll work, then go for it. I thought he would’ve come back to the Sugar Cube by now, but I haven’t seen him.”
“That’s because I told him I didn’t want to speak to him anymore.”
“You what?” She slaps a hand to her chest. “You’re going to be the death of me. How could you push away such a fine specimen of a man? I’ve failed to teach you. From now on, it’s wax on, wax off. If you say you don’t get that movie reference, I will literally shriek in outrage.”
I put my fingertips to my temples and apply pressure to alleviate the headache that’s forming. “You can be my sensei.”
“Phew,” she says, blowing out a breath. “That was a close one. As your karate master, I want you to contact Mr. I-want-to-sit-on-your-face Bennett. Like right freaking now.”
