Page 33 of Watching Her

“You too?” Jasmine asked, laughing as she did. “The guy in charge of the television crew said I had camera charisma. He dropped by with his crew to film a few minutes of the event last night and accidentally stepped onto the dance floor. You don’t know me very well, but I took that as a sign, forcing him to dance with me.”

In thinking about my mystery man, I was now regretting more than ever I hadn’t spent more time with him. It was my fault, but I had promised myself there would be no men in my future, even for one sexy night.

A promise I had every intention of keeping.

The drink arrived a few seconds later and I held up the glass. “To a successful event and what the future might hold.”

“Perfect.” Chantal’s eyes lit up. “And to hot men sliding across our horizon.”

It felt good to laugh and share time with new friends. I’d have so much to talk about with my bestie back in Louisville. Where she’d promptly kick me in the ass for chickening out with Mr. Hottie. Even though she’d been the one to console me after Carrington had dumped me.

Actually, I’d done the dumping, but he’d been the asshole behind the reason why.

Maybe after weeks of suffering from the loss, even though I’d told myself that Carrington hadn’t been worth it, I was finally ready to move on.

Thanks to the mysterious stranger.

Who knew. Maybe one day I’d be able to thank him for giving me the push I needed.

Our waitress approached less than twenty minutes later with a sealed envelope in her hand. “I was told to deliver this to you.”

“To which one of us?” Jasmine asked.

With a smile, the girl shrugged. “I was just told to the table. Maybe the note inside will let you know.”

“Who sent it?” For whatever reason, I was immediately on edge. There was no reason. The note could be from anyone.

“My boss handed it to me when she knew I was your server. I honestly don’t know.”

Chantal sighed. “A mystery. Sounds delicious.”

“Or creepy,” Jasmine added. Suddenly, we were all looking at each other, clearly filled with apprehension.

The waitress walked away and the three of us stared at it. We finally laughed. “We’re being silly,” I suggested and grabbed the envelope. When I finally managed to get it open, pulling out the card, a tiny chill coursed through me.

“What does it say?” Jasmine asked.

“I’m watching you.” I lifted my gaze, looking from one to the other.

The room. The flowers. The aftershave.

The mystery man. He was certainly well versed in getting what he wanted, his demand I dance with him an indication. Was it possible… There were three of us at this table. Not one.

Chantal recoiled and we took a few seconds scanning the bar. “Any name? Initials?”

“No.” I placed the card in the center of the table. It had been written in heavy dark ink, the text appearing formidable. Not necessarily a threat, but something close. At least the note hadn’t been prepared using block letters from a printed publication.

Perhaps a warning? No, my mind was lost on a nasty troll who’d been driving me crazy lately. Nothing more. Yet I had my doubts a handsome rich guy would play games. I had to remind myself there were three of us sitting at the table.

“That’s a little weird.” Jasmine grabbed her drink.

“More than a little,” Chantal admitted, slightly breathless, glancing in my direction. “Maybe the handsome stranger you mentioned.”

“Or the publisher who’s so interested,” Jasmine told her.

“Or the media mogul,” I offered.

We sat quietly, still scanning the bar before Chantal chuckled. “Maybe we will never know.”