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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Olivia stared at the flowers in disbelief. Not now. Not here.

“We should go,” Tyson murmured, tugging her away from the table. “If this guy left these flowers, that means he could still be here.”

Olivia glanced around, looking for any familiar faces.

Who else did she know here?

Paul? Donald?

Terror felt like ice in her veins. It spread so quickly that she shivered.

“Olivia?”

She came out of her daze when Tyson said her name.

“I can’t leave. Then he’ll win. I can’t put my life on hold because of him.” Raising her shoulders up higher, Olivia set her chin in determination. “Let’s eat.”

“Are you sure?” Tyson stared as if trying to read her.

“Positive.”

“Should you tell Special Agent Harris?”

“Probably.” She frowned. The last thing Olivia wanted was to interact with Paul.

Tyson studied her face before saying, “How about you let me talk to him? He can look at the security footage.”

Relief swept through her. “If you don’t mind . . .”

He picked up the flowers. “Not at all. But stay here. Please. I need to know where you are . . . just in case.”

Just in case . . . Olivia knew what that meant.

Just in case anything else happened.

Just in case her stalker was here, waiting for the right opportunity.

She shuddered as she sat down.

Tyson tucked her seat under the table and then strode away to find the man. She was glad the flowers were out of her sight—unfortunately, they weren’t out of her memories yet.

Tension pulled tight between Olivia’s shoulders.

She tried to focus on eating her salad.

Across the room, she caught Paul watching her as he and Tyson spoke. Then he walked away, probably to talk to security.

A moment later, Tyson returned and sat beside her. “Who knew that you were going to be here?”

“The usual. Wes, Chandler, Hobbes, and Deb. It’s not like I have that many people around here to tell. I did mention it to Lyle.” She hesitated. “And now Paul, apparently.”

“Was it like this last time?” he asked quietly. “Did this guy seem to know your schedule then as well as he does now?”

Olivia thought about it and then nodded. “Yes. But in New York City it’s easy for people to watch you. At your house . . . it’s nearly impossible to watch someone without getting caught.”

Unless it’s someone close, she mused.

But that thought made her sick to her stomach.

* * *

Tyson couldn’t stop watching everyone around them.

This guy had been here. Anger burned through him at the thought of someone diabolical being that bold.

This guy felt untouchable, didn’t he?

He hoped Special Agent Harris was able to find something on that security footage. But somehow, he knew this guy hadn’t slipped up. He was too good for that. This psycho had gone this long without being caught, which meant he knew what he was doing.

The speakers began their talks. Tyson only pretended to listen. His mind raced through possibilities.

How did someone know Olivia would be here? Someone here had to know something.

His gaze drifted to Paul again. The man appeared deeply engaged in conversation with the foundation’s director. But something about his posture suggested awareness. Tyson suspected he was talking to the director about security concerns.

As an FBI agent, Paul knew The Admirer’s patterns. He had access to the case files and knew every detail of how Olivia had been tormented.

And he’d definitely known she’d be here tonight.

Could Paul be behind this? Was this some twisted attempt to make her need him again?

The thought chilled Tyson.

He tore his gaze away, not liking his suspicions . . . but not willing to ignore them either.