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“Julie, I’m going to take my lunch hour now. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure, hon.”
“Okay, see you later.”
“Enjoy.”
I’m craving a nicoise salad. I found a place close to work that has a brilliant selection of salads. You take the girl out of LA but you can’t take LA out of the girl. The store is close enough so I walk rather than drive. It’s a nice day out.
I check my messages while I walk. Mom sent me a few links to recipes on a budget—that’s so Mom—and Gina sent me a few dirty jokes—how very Gina. My wallet slips out of my hands while I’m texting Gina. I stoop to pick it up and notice a man watching me. Has he been there the whole time?
Come on, Mia. Don’t be paranoid.
I’m probably being a little sensitive. No one knows I’m here. I’ve been extremely careful in all my movements. I even registered Angelo under my mother’s maiden name. I haven’t taken any chances.
The man smiles when he sees me looking at him and then he passes me and moves off down the street.
You see. All that panic for nothing.
I pay for my salad in the store, and take it with me to the park where I open the container and dig into its delicious contents. This is definitely an outdoor salad. The whiff from the boiled eggs and anchovies would spread through the office like a plague. I could never do that to poor Julie.
The park is lovely. Dog owners have their furry kids chasing balls and frisbees and couples are out on picnic blankets, enjoying a quick snack before returning to their nine-to-five. What a lovely way to spend an hour.
I check my watch. Time to start my slow walk back to the office. I throw away the empty container, swish some water around in my mouth to get rid of the remnants of the tuna, and head to the office. I happen to glance over my shoulder at a dog leaping into the air to catch a frisbee when my eye catches a familiar face. It’s the same man from earlier!
No, this can’t be a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence anyway, and this is just too close to the mark. He must sense my trepidation, because the smile he gave me earlier isn;t quite so bright this time around. I pick up the pace. A few meters into my walk, I look back. He’s still there.
Now my heart is racing. The stranger is definitely following me. I'm not imagining it. I even crossed to the other side of the street and I couldn't shake him. I can do one of two things here. I can run, or I can stop in my tracks and ask him what he wants. I choose to do the latter. Not sure where I get the sudden surge of bravado, but, hey.
“Excuse me. Why are you following me?”
He’s much taller than I am, so I have to crane my neck to look him square in the eye, but I puff myself up and keep my course.
“Hello, Mia,” he says with a somewhat menacing grin.
I can feel the blood leaving my face and pooling in my lower body.
“How do you know my name?” I bark, scared shitless, but determined not to show it.
“We share an acquaintance.”
I’m pretty sure I would know about it if that were the case. Perhaps he knows Uncle Ben. Is that even possible?
“Who would that be?”
“Dante De Luca.”
I want to run. I want to run and never stop. How the actual fuck did Dante find me?
“Tell Dante to leave me alone,” I snap and turn to walk away.
A forceful hand on my shoulder stops me in my tracks.
“Get your hands off me,” I growl at him.
“You misunderstand,” he says with his hands in the air in surrender.