I have a stalker.
The evidence is too strong to ignore. Thatâs to say nothing of my intuition. Over the past weeks, Iâve felt a presence looming, watching.
At first, I chalked it up to nerves, or maybe even poor nutritionâbut anxiety doesnât steal your necklace. Nor does it place pearls on your nightstand during the middle of the night.
Iâve 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. Sheâs 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.
âWhat?â she says, feigning innocence. âA girlâs gotta practice.â
âIf thatâs the size youâre working with, then you wonât have to practice for long.â
She squeals. âWhere has this Calista been all my life? Dare I say that Iâve found a secret perverted side hiding underneath your prim and proper exterior?â
I shake my head with a grin. âYouâre rubbing off on me.â
âI do have that effect on people.â
âHarper, can I ask you a question?â When she nods, I take a preparatory breath, steeling myself for her response. âHypothetically, if someone had a stalker, what necessary steps would that person need to take to remove said stalker from their life? Hypothetically.â
âWow. Politicianâs daughter much?â Her face loses all traces of mirth. âSeriously, Cal, whatâs going on?â
I bite my lip, working the tender skin between my teeth. âIâm not sure.â
âBut somethingâs happening, or you wouldnât have asked me such a crazy, hypothetical, question.â She walks over to stand next to me and takes my hand, her gaze clouded with worry while avidly searching mine. âYou can tell me.â
âI think someoneâs been in my apartment,â I whisper, all but forcing the words from my mouth. Hearing them out loud gives them life, makes this real. âIâm so scared.â
âHoly fuck balls. Okay, I want to know everything, and donât leave out a single detail.â
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 donât tell her that Iâve received more individual pearls. Instead, I confess that my feelings of being watched intensified. I tell her Iâve felt this way since the day of my fatherâs 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 itâll stop my hands from shaking. It doesnât work. Iâm afraid nothing will ease the fear and that itâll only continue to grow.
âIsnât that what happens to stalkerâs victims?â I ask. âDonât they end up dead?â
Harper grabs my shoulders. âFirst of all, weâre not going to let that happen to you. Second, I need a moment to think.â After ten seconds of silence, she nods. âSuspects. Thatâs where we should start. Give me a list of potential stalkers. And go.â
âI have no idea.â
âAny past relationships that ended badly?â
I shake my head. âMy ex-fiancé called off the engagement, so itâs unlikely he wants me back. I havenât spoken to Adam since he took the ring back.â
âOof, thatâs cold. What about someone you rejected?â
âI havenât dated anyone else.â
Her lips pull to the side. âThis is beyond me. When in doubt, ask Google. Unfortunately, being stalked isnât on my list of personal experiences. Now, if you asked me how to Houdini yourself out of some Shibari knots, then Iâm your girl.â
âUnfortunately?â
She waves a hand in dismissal before retrieving her cell phone from her apron pocket. âWhat to do when you think youâre being stalked,â she mumbles to herself.
I peer over her shoulder. ââAvoid all contact.â Thatâs going to be hard since I have no idea who it is.â
ââBe alert and proactive to protect yourself,ââ she reads. âYeah, no shit. Donât fail me now, Google. Iâm counting on you. âEnhance security measures.ââ She looks at me. âDo you have a gun?â
My eyes widen. âDo you?â
âNot yet.â
âI have pepper spray.â
âPut a knife under your pillow too,â she says. âWhat about a security system?â
I blow out a breath, disturbing the tendrils of hair resting on my cheek. âYou know how much I get paid. Itâs not like I can afford it, even with the extra hours Iâm working.â
ââInform key people in your life,ââ she continues. âCheck. Once we tell Alex, thatâll be another check.â She jerks up her head to pierce me with a hard stare. âWhat about Mr. I-want-to-ride-your-dick-Bennett? He was super protective over you that one time.â
âAnd?â
âAnd maybe heâll care this time.â
I cross my arms. âNo. I donât want to have anything to do with him.â
âThereâs something youâre not telling me.â She sweeps her gaze over my face as I fight off a blush. âA lot of something.â
I bow my head, unable to look at her. âIf I tell you, will you promise not to tease me about it?â
She salutes me. âCross my heart and hope to die while in the middle of an orgasm.â
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips. It fades when I think of Hayden. âSo⦠I mightâve gotten a job at T&A. Just long enough to pay my bills,â I say holding out my hands in supplication. âHowever, Mr. Bennett made me quit.â
âHe what?â
I nod. âHe 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.â
âNiiiice.â
âNo, not nice.â I frown at her. âAre you not hearing me?â
âKind of. Iâm distracted by dick right now.â
âHarperâ¦â I say, my tone full of warning.
She rolls her eyes. âFine. It doesnât matter anyway.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause T&A was burned to a crisp last week. Itâs nothing but ash, so itâs not like youâd still have a job anyway. The way I see it, Mr. Spank-me-harder Bennett did you a favor.â
I press my lips together. Although I want to admit sheâs right, I canât. But only because I donât want to be indebted to a man like Hayden. The payments would be steep. Perhaps even devastating.
âSo, back to your stalker problem,â she says. âHave you received any messages or anything from this person?â
I shake my head. âI donât have a cell phone, and I havenât found any weird papers lying around. Actually, nothing except my necklace was taken. The rest of my apartment was untouched.â
She gasps. âYou donât have a cell phone? How do you even live? This is worse than I thought. You canât even fucking call 9-1-1. Unbelievable.â
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 Iâm glad to have confided in Harper, itâs forced me to realize how dangerous my situation is. Not only that, itâs bleak.
My shoulders slump as any remaining hope seeps from my body. âI 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.â
âWell, youâre not working at a place like T&A again. Thatâs for sure.â
âThen what can I do? Iâm already working long shifts here. I donât have time for anything else really.â
Harper grabs me for a hug and squeezes me tight. âDonât worry, weâll think of something.â
âThank you.â
The rest of my shift goes by in a blur. My thoughts cycle around and around like a whirlpool until I feel like Iâm drowning in the magnitude of my problem. In the end, I canât think of a single solution that doesnât 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. âIâve got an idea, but itâs crazy.â
âI love crazy.â
âI can get the money from Hayden.â
She scrunches her forehead. âFrom who?â
âMr. Bennett.â
Her eyes widen while the green hue sparkles. âYouâre going to Pretty Woman his ass.â
âI donât know what that means.â
âHave you lived under a rock your entire life? Good grief. Itâs the story of a rich man who falls in love with a prostitute.â
I frown. âIn that case, Iâm not going to do what youâre thinking, but it does involve the lawyer. Thereâs a piece of information he wants from me,â I say, carefully choosing my words. âIf 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.â
Harper nods slowly. âI think that could work. Are you going to tell me what that piece of information is?â
âItâs⦠private.â
âMore private than you having a stalker?â
I nod. âItâs something pertaining to my life before now. I donât like talking about it.â
Her gaze softens, and her voice gentles. âOkay, honey. If you think thatâll work, then go for it. I thought he wouldâve come back to the Sugar Cube by now, but I havenât seen him.â
âThatâs because I told him I didnât want to speak to him anymore.â
âYou what?â She slaps a hand to her chest. âYouâre going to be the death of me. How could you push away such a fine specimen of a man? Iâve failed to teach you. From now on, itâs wax on, wax off. If you say you donât get that movie reference, I will literally shriek in outrage.â
I put my fingertips to my temples and apply pressure to alleviate the headache thatâs forming. âYou can be my sensei.â
âPhew,â she says, blowing out a breath. âThat 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.â