Page 95

“Yes, but there were other things. I had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy I knew wasn’t the one, but it still stung. And I had other things going on…”
“Like what?” he asked.
I hesitated before talking again.
“I had a stalker for a while. A dedicated fan, he called himself. It seemed harmless at first. The police hardly did anything about it, but then it got dangerous when he broke into my apartment.”
“Oh, my God.” Troy’s mouth dropped open.
“I wasn’t home,” I quickly reassured him. “He was finally arrested, but he’s out now. He’s been out for a little while.”
Troy reached out and stroked my hair gently. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s okay,” I said. “But that’s why I asked you about the flowers earlier. There were dead flowers left at my desk with a cryptic note reading,Your love life is dead.”
I shuddered just thinking about it.
“Jesus. Do you think it’s him?” he asked worriedly.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll increase security in the building. I’ll hire someone to watch over you, like a cop or a private hire. Whatever you need. I want to protect you.”
I shook my head. I knew he was worried about me, but I didn’t want to become paranoid again. I had spent too many months like that. Maybe the flowers were a mistake. A wrong delivery. I hadn’t heard or seen anything from my stalker in almost nine months.
“I just want you to stay the night,” I said.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled me close and kissed me softly. “Besides, you still owe me that dessert.”
Chapter 42
Troy
The sun had just set and the sky was beginning to turn various shades of purple. The city lights were warm in contrast as they grew more vibrant against the darkening sky. I took a sip of wine and looked out over the view. Out the window where Monica and I had first been together. I placed my hand on the window and smiled, knowing she would be here soon. Knowing how different things were now.
Yesterday, while it had started out rocky, had turned everything around for us. We loved each other, and realized we had for a while. All the other mess just seemed to fade away once those words were spoken. Once other words were spoken. We had finally talked.Reallytalked.
Turned out she wasn’t so different from me with her own pressures from her family and not feeling good enough. I just wished she could see what I saw. Pure talent and ambition. She was stronger than me for carving her own path and I admired the hell out of her for it. In some ways, she reminded me of my sister. My best friend. Which was probably why I liked her so much.
Besides that, she was strong. Much stronger than she should ever have to be for dealing with a stalker. I couldn’t believe what she had been through when she told me about the guy. I made sure to ask more questions later, just in case he ever came around again. I wanted to be ready. To protect her. And I promised her that. She tried to ease my worries, but I could see a little fear in her eyes. She was trying to be strong. Always trying to be strong.
It was not easy leaving Monica’s place this morning. I was fully ready to take another personal day if it meant staying in bed with her all day, only coming up for air when it was absolutely necessary. But being the professional she was, she insisted we go back to work before anyone suspected anything. I knew I had to face the wrath of Kathy, and probably my father, for skipping work and calling off meetings.
I knew I was in a position I didn’t deserve to have, and would probably soon lose if I continued the way I had been. But I didn’t think it would be such a loss. I just needed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I was almost forty years old, and the idea of starting over was ridiculous, but exciting. Now that Monica was back in my life, I felt like anything was possible. I knew she would understand me wanting to step away from this world and she would be with me every step of the way.
Today at work hadn’t felt as torturous as I thought it might be on the drive from her place back to Manhattan. We worked alongside each other and I didn’t feel like I was going to spontaneously combust if I didn’t touch her. I knew I would see her later. I knew we had time. In the past, there had always been this desperation between us. This secretive passion we had to diffuse when we were together. Now, it felt like we could just be. We had all the time in the world.
Don’t get me wrong. I still resisted the urge to kiss her a few times and it was difficult for me to concentrate when I was imagining her naked. But I knew I had tonight with her. She was coming over for dinner and to stay the night. I told her to pack her overnight things.
“Like a slumber party?” she had whispered in the elevator with a small smirk.
“Exactlylike a slumber party.” I gave her a quick pat on the behind.
A romantic sleepover with a home-cooked dinner by me. I had gone to the store after work for everything I needed. Pork chops, potatoes, salad, a bottle of vintage champagne. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I wanted to make it special. I wanted it to feel like a proper date, which we had never been on. We had gone to plenty of dinners and lunches, but had to put on a show that it was for business in case anyone saw. They hadn’t seen what went on under the table linens, but still. She deserved a proper date.
I couldn’t wait for the day I could take her out and show her off to the world. But for now, my penthouse or her place would have to do, until we figured everything out. I dimmed the lights and turned on some light jazz music as I started prepping in the kitchen. I was following a recipe fromThe Food Networkthat had so many steps my head was spinning. The potatoes were in the oven and now I had to start on the pork chops. I had just seasoned them and placed them in the skillet when I heard the elevator doors ding.