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"If being a dick is keeping you safe, then so be it. Hate me for it."
"I’m hanging up now," I declared, my anger boiling over as I hit the power button on my phone just as the cab double-parked in front of my building.
I paid the driver and stepped out, only to see the man I had noticed several months ago lurking half a block down. Under the streetlights, his beady dark eyes were fixed on me. As he began to walk toward me, I felt a jolt of fear. I hurried inside, jamming my finger on the elevator button.
A glance back through the glass doors showed him standing right in front of them, staring at me. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. The elevator finally arrived, and I zipped up to the penthouse. I practically ran down the hall, fumbling for my key when I stopped at the door. My hands trembled, but I finally got the key into the lock and shoved the door open, only to scream as I heard footsteps in the hall.
“Miss Stewart!”
“Shit, Brenda, you scared me,” I gasped, clutching my chest.
“Mr. Fox is not happy with you. He told me to check on you. I dropped off Trouble a couple of hours ago.”
“I spoke with him,” I replied, trying to steady my breath.
Her phone rang, and I almost knew it was Oliver. She answered and held the cell out to me. “I’ll call him on mine. Can you stay for a little while?”
“Sure, I’ll wait for you in the living room,” Brenda said, her voice calm and reassuring.
I heard her talking to Oliver as I walked down the hall. Trouble greeted me halfway, and I scooped him into my arms, pressing my face against his soft fur. I put him down on my bed along with my purse and sat on the corner to dial Oliver. He picked up on the first ring.
“Why the fuck did you hang up on me?” he demanded, his voice harsh with worry.
I sniffled, fighting back tears. “He was out there.”
His tone softened, fear evident. “Who was out there?”
“The man I saw months ago. He was waiting for me, and when I got out of the cab, he rushed down the sidewalk.”
“This is what I mean. You need security,” Oliver yelled.
“Who is he?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“I don’t know. Maybe the cameras on the building can tell us.”
“Should I ask the concierge?”
“I’ll take care of it. Dammit, why don’t you listen to me? I have your best interest at heart,” he said, frustration mingling with concern.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentler now.
“Just a little scared. I wish you were here,” I admitted, feeling a pang of loneliness.
“I’ll try to be back as early as possible on Friday. If you want, ask Brenda to stay with you.”
“I have Trouble,” I said, glancing at the tiny dog curled up on my bed.
“He’s a tiny dog,” Oliver replied, a hint of a smile in his voice despite the seriousness.
“Are you expecting a problem?” I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity.
“Not at all,” Oliver replied confidently. “The building is secure, but it never hurts to have extra.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll think about it.”
“Now tell me about Teagan,” he prompted gently.
