Page 1

1

JEANNIE

“I need two specials, one with rye, and the other no pickles… claims he has an allergy. Who do you know has ever been allergic to pickles?” Jeannie chuckled, ripping the order sheet off her pad and shoving it in place as she exchanged a look with the cook.

Grabbing two red plastic cups, she took a deep breath, dove both arms down into the icemaker that she lovingly called ‘Frosty-the-Body-hider’ under her breath as she looked deep into the opening. Seriously, this thing could hide a body inside and was straight from the seventies – maybe older.

As the bell to the front door of the retro café chimed, she didn’t even bother to look over her shoulder as all of the employees yelled in unison – “Hidey-ho-grab-a-seat-bro…” and finished holding the two plastic cups under the fountain nozzles, filling both cups with soda before turning around… and frowning.

Dang it.

And I was having a good night at work, Jeannie thought glumly as she saw the man she was doing her best to avoid constantly taking a seat at a booth nearby. One of her booths, naturally. She was not surprised in the slightest because the twerp was watching her, and she knew it.

“Rex – I’ve got company,” Jeannie said quietly in the window, grabbing a stack of napkins while she balanced the two cups with one hand, looking at the cook pointedly.

“Lemme know if I need to call the cops again,” he said simply, wiping his hands on his apron like he was ready to throwdown or something. The man was in his seventies and loved this diner. He had his privacy and could play his music without being hassled about it, and everyone seemed to love him.

“Will do.”

“That man ain’t right in the head…” Rex muttered, going back to the fryer and yanking a basket up – and she smiled.

Rex was the most grumbly, sweetest person, and she knew for a fact he wouldn’t hurt a flea. He might talk a good game, but he was gentle as the day was long. Once they found a mouse in the kitchen, and he insisted on keeping the back door propped open so it could escape instead of calling an exterminator.

Mary, the owner, called the exterminator the next day. Chuckling, she saw Mary, who worked the bar of her café, give her a steady look, and Jeannie nodded.

The woman didn’t want any trouble, but she did want the money that the patrons brought in, and Jeannie understood that. The whole reason she took this job was for extra money. Extra money paid for her bus passes, her internet, her website maintenance, and her fumbled attempts to build a career of her own so she didn’t have to sling sodas, deal with handsy men, or work in some old-fashioned diner in downtown Seattle. No, someday she was going to manage to make it on her own and…

“Hi Jeannie,” her unwelcomed visitor said with a smile that reminded her of just how uncomfortable the next hour or so would be.

“Hey Jim, somehow you managed to seat yourself at my table once again,” she said politely, but there was a pointed edge to her voice. “How about that, huh?”

“Must be fate,” he shrugged and tossed her a smile.

“Must be something ,” she agreed simply, not meeting his eyes. “What can I get you?”

She had just finished speaking when the front door chimed. Like Pavlov’s experiment, the bell got her attention. She didn’t even bother to look up from her order pad as she yelled with everyone once again, in unison – “Hidey-ho-grab-a-seat-bro…”

“You know what I want, Jeannie.”

This time, she looked up as someone else sat down in her section. Her eyes met Jim’s, staring at him, realizing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Holding his gaze, she casually spoke to the other patron, not looking away.

“I’ll be right with you as soon as this man orders his meal.”

“No worries, take your time…” the other person said, and something in his voice was calming, allowing her to draw in her breath, almost like it gave her the needed boost to shore up her defenses against the troll watching her.

“Jim, what can I get you to eat?”

“Well,” the disgusting man began, quieting his voice as he leaned toward her. She saw his slicked hair was hiding a receding hairline that was going to be impossible to hide soon, while his eyes stared at her like she was naked – and for the record – she was not nor would ever be in front of this creep.

Her uniform was a pair of jeans, sneakers, a white shirt that said ‘Hidey-Ho’ across the front, and a bright green apron that reminded her of Starbucks. She loved the pockets on the front because it was easy to keep from losing things and she froze as something touched her leg.

“I thought I’d take you to dinner first, but if you really want to know what I’d like to eat… it’s you , Jeannie,” he whispered – and every alert in her body flared at once, causing her to nearly puke on his greasy hair.

If someone had told her there was a tarantula on her leg, she would have had the same gut-reaction. She literally yelped, made a warbling sound, jumped in place wildly, slapping her leg – and him.

“Uh, look, buddy,” she blurted out, not bothering to hide her disgust and jerked her leg back out of reach, where he was already trying to touch her again. “You need to go – now. I’m not putting up with your crap anymore. Find some other woman to bother, go jump off a bridge, dive into oncoming traffic, or whatever floats your boat, sailor – but don’t you ever touch me or talk to me like that again!” she snapped hotly, thoroughly disgusted.

Jim, who had conveniently bumped into her at her apartment a week ago in the hallway, who ran into her at the grocery store two days ago, and who – again – just coincidentally ran into her at Best Buy when she picked up a hard drive for her computer… offering to buy it for her. He came to the diner four times a week for the last month, sat in her section, and it wasn’t hard to put it all together.

She had a stalker.

A touchy-feely-stalker.

A sexually-harassing stalker who was getting bolder with each passing day.

“C’mon Jeannie, I’m just being friendly…”

“You need to find another friend, another place to eat, and another building to live in.”

“Hey Mary,” Jim hollered past her, looking coolly at Jeannie – who swallowed in awareness. He was trying to get her in trouble and showing her he held all the cards. “You’ve got a real gem in ol’ Jeannie. I come here just… for… her .”

“Stop it,” Jeannie hissed under her breath, feeling a wave of panic flutter within her. She couldn’t lose this job because she didn’t have a car, didn’t have much money saved up, had put everything into her website, using this to keep the bills paid – and going back to Philly wasn’t an option.

Both of her parents had remarried, were disappointed that she didn’t go to college, frustrated that she moved clear across the country, and that she refused to be in politics like them. She refused to schmooze, kiss butt, and smear other people into the ground – and drew that line long, long ago.

“Now, be a good girl,” Jim ordered quietly, knowing that he practically had the upper hand at this moment and had found her weak spot – money and a steady income. “You do what I say, and I’ll make sure you get a nice tip… both here and at home, sweetness.”

“In case you didn’t understand me, you pervert,” Jeannie hissed, feeling tears well up because she was going to have to start her job search again – and move. It was a lot of expenses she didn’t need because of one slimy guy. “You need to leave me alone, quit following me everywhere, and just go to…”

A hand shot out and grabbed Jim’s hand where he was trying to touch her once more, flying around the corner of the booth almost like a snake surging forward in an attack. The impact of skin on skin made a slight pop that she would never forget in her life for as long as she lived – and her horrified eyes turned and met the bluest ones she’d ever seen as a tall, well-built, blond man unfolded from the small booth and stood up, still clutching Jim’s wrist.

“She’s already asked you, and now I’m gonna do the same,” the stranger said quietly as he turned back to look at Jim, and Jeannie continued to stare completely taken aback at this unexpected twist. “If you touch my wife again or any other woman without permission, I will crack your wrist like an egg.”

Wife?

What did he say?

“Get your hands off of me… and she’s not married.”

“Yes, I am,” Jeannie blurted out, grasping desperately at the offer of protection in a panic. “It’s okay… honey .”

She had no clue what this guy’s name was – but as she stared at his profile, she couldn’t help but compare him to what she imagined a guardian angel would look like.

All that blond hair, a slight curl to it, bright blue eyes, a calmness that hid everything, dressed in a white T-shirt and pale jeans… oh yes, if he sprouted a pair of white angel wings right now and a halo began to glow, she would not be shocked in the slightest.

“The things he said to you are not okay with me,” her angel growled protectively. “It’s filthy, disgusting, and it gives all men a bad image when someone like this gets away with this sort of garbage. I have a younger sister, and I can tell you right now that if it was Katie that I wouldn’t be holding his wrist or threatening it. I’d break his freakin’ face.”

“I’m gonna call the cops…”

“I wish you would,” her angel snarled, obviously upset that Jim wasn’t backing down. “I’m not in a good mood already, so if you want to throw gasoline on the fire… bring it.”

“Honey,” Jeannie started, trying to calm the stranger down as she heard silence from the rest of the diner around her. She felt every eye was on them and knew there would be so many questions… if she wasn’t fired for all of this. “Let him go.”

“So he can do this again?” those incensed blue eyes turned to look at her. “No. If I let him go, then we’re leaving.”

Jeannie gulped.

This man was bigger than her, obviously stronger, and while he had stopped Jim from his blatant sexual harassment, she also knew it wouldn’t stop him forever. The idea of going from the frying pan into the fire with another person didn’t sit well, and she had no clue how to explain that without giving away the lie to everyone or undoing this moment.

“Trust me to handle this,” her angel said sternly. “Take my keys out of my pocket, go get in the car, and we’ll discuss this job over dinner somewhere else.”

“I can’t leave…”

“You can’t stay if he’s following you.”

“I don’t know what to do…” she whispered, her eyes searching his.

“Trust me.”

“I’m scared.”

“Take my keys and get in the car,” he whispered firmly, his bright blue eyes holding hers – almost like he was trying to communicate something to her… and to her disbelief, his eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. “Please, Jeannie. Get in the car and call Katie.”

What?

He wanted her to call his sister from his car?

Who was this guy, this stranger?

His eyes were holding hers, soft yet unyielding, and he was holding Jim’s wrist with a grip of iron, the muscles and tendons in his forearms flexing slightly. She nodded distractedly, stuck her hand in his pocket trying not to swoon at how warm the fabric was or how intimate this felt, and took the keys. She stared in disbelief at the emblem on the key in her hand.

The dude drove a Bentley?

Why was he here of all places?

“Go,” he said simply, giving her a curt nod, and struggled slightly as Jim was shoving back the table trying to stand up… and her angel blocked him. His stance widened, feet apart, as he leaned over the other man preventing him from reaching her. “I’ve got you,” he said quietly. “Call Katie from the car, and I’ll be there in a few.”

“Mary! Call the police!” Jim squawked. “This guy is…”

“This guy is gonna teach you some manners,” her angel answered, turning back and focusing on the other man – and Jeannie turned in what felt like slow motion.

Her eyes met Rex’s worried ones filled with pity, and Mary’s cool gaze, steady gaze. The woman was not happy about the disturbance in her diner, which made Jeannie feel almost violently sick as it clicked in her head. How many people had been in her shoes? How many other girls had this happened to? The pity in Rex’s eyes told her that she wasn’t the first to deal with this, and she wouldn’t be the last.

She yanked off her apron, unable to say a word, and took the chance that this stranger was offering her. Tossing it on the counter, she started out the door, and sure enough, there was a Bentley parked off to the side. Clicking the remote, she slid into the driver’s seat, refusing to be a captive, and started the car.

The idea of driving off was almost overwhelming – but instead – she opened up the phone listings on the radio, realizing the guy must be close enough for his phone to pick up. Seeing ‘Katie’ on the display, she punched it. She had no clue who this girl was, no clue who this guy was. All she knew was at this moment, she needed someone, anyone, she could trust and was scared.

Jeannie’s hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel, her breath shallow and ragged. The weight of everything that had just happened pressed heavily on her chest. She could see him through the window, his posture stiff, his hands moving in sharp, deliberate gestures as he confronted someone inside.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. What was he saying? Who was he talking to? And why had he left her out here like a lost child clutching a lifeline she barely understood?

She swallowed hard. The line rang once before a cheerful voice answered, oblivious to the chaos unraveling on Jeannie’s end.

“Two times this week?” The young girl on the other end teased, her voice light and teasing. “Stop it, nerd, or I might think that all those times you called me a dork were pretend, Matthieu.”

Jeannie’s breath hitched, and when she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse and broken. “Hello?”

A pause.

Then confusion.

“Hello?” The girl—Katie—repeated before a sharp intake of breath. “MOOOMMMM!” Her scream pierced the silence of the car, making Jeannie wince. “Momma, c’mere! MOM! OH MY GOSH, MOMMMM—MATTHIEU’S BEEN IN A WRECK AND SOME GIRL IS CALLING FROM HIS PHONE…!”

“No!” Jeannie gasped, panic tightening around her throat. “He’s not—he’s not in a wreck. He’s helping me—I think—and I don’t know what’s going on or…” Her voice cracked, the fear pressing down on her chest like a crushing weight. She looked back toward the diner window just in time to see Matthieu’s expression twist with fury as he pointed a finger at someone unseen. Was it Jim? Her boss? Someone worse?

“What? Where’s the big hockey nerd ?” Katie demanded, her voice laced with worry.

“Inside my job…” Jeannie whispered.

“Hold on. Momma? Momma, come here and hurry - I’m in over my head,” Katie muttered before a shuffle sounded over the speakers, a brief rustling before another voice entered the call—older, more measured, but no less alarmed.

“What’s going on, Katie…?”

“Some girl is on Matthieu’s phone and?—”

“What? Put it on speaker, honey… Hello? Hello? I’m Donna—who’s this, and where is my son?”

Jeannie’s throat tightened as a fresh wave of emotion slammed into her. A mother’s voice. Concerned, frantic, filled with an urgency Jeannie had never heard in her own parents’ words. A sob tore from her throat as she clutched the steering wheel tighter, blinking furiously against the burning in her eyes.

“Hi, Donna,” she managed shakily. “Listen, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what’s happening or what’s going on, but your son just saved me from my stalker and… and…” Her voice broke completely, and the tears came hard and fast, ugly and unrelenting. “I don’t know who he is, what’s happening—all I know is that I’m scared because some stranger just gave me the keys to his car that costs more than what I make in an entire year, and told me to wait outside, and… and…”

“Matthieu’s gonna pound someone,” Katie’s voice cut in triumphantly, but Donna shushed her quickly.

Jeannie shook her head, trying to gather herself. “I don’t want him to get in trouble for helping me.”

“Then find a way to help him back,” Donna urged, her voice both soothing and firm. “Start honking the horn. Get him out of whatever mess he’s getting himself into. I know his agent called, and he was really upset, but…”

Jeannie sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face. Honking the horn. That was something she could do. Something simple. Something normal in a moment that felt anything but.

She slammed her palm down on the steering wheel, the car horn blaring in the quiet street. Once. Twice. A long, desperate honk, followed by another rapid series of short bursts. Her hands shook, but she kept pressing, willing him to hear her. “I’m so sorry to worry you all…” she murmured brokenly.

“Not at all, sweetie,” Donna soothed. “I’m glad you called. You’re my eyes and ears for my headstrong sweet boy. Are you in Seattle?”

“Yes, ma’am. Are you?”

“No. We’re in Minnesota.”

A startled laugh escaped Jeannie—half hysterical, half disbelieving. “Well… okay, then.”

Another sharp honk. Another. And then?—

The diner door exploded open with such force that it nearly came off its hinges. Matthieu stormed out, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a fury that made Jeannie’s breath catch. His arm shot out, his finger extended in a silent, obscene warning to whoever stood behind him. His chest rose and fell with barely restrained anger, his massive frame practically vibrating with tension as he stalked toward the car.

Jeannie sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers tightening around the phone.

“What?” Donna and Katie’s voices chimed together, frantic.

“He’s coming,” Jeannie whispered, her heart hammering. Then suddenly, fear surged through her veins. This man—this stranger—had just turned her world upside down in a matter of minutes. Was she safe with him? Was she making a mistake? She was alone. Vulnerable.

Her voice was barely audible when she asked, “Can I trust him? Am I safe?”

A pause. Then Donna’s voice came soft, sure. “You can trust him,” she said gently. “He’s a sweet boy. And if you’re scared, just ask him about Feller.”

Jeannie’s grip on the phone tightened. Matthieu was getting closer, his expression unreadable, his presence overwhelming.

Feller?

“What? Oh my gosh, okay. Here he is,” Jeannie blurted out in a rush, almost locking the doors of the expensive car against him at the last second as he yanked open the passenger side door, slid in filling the space, and glanced at the radio.

“Hey Mama…”

“Hi baby,” his mother said lovingly. “You’ve got a scared friend with you. Do you need help, or do you want to tell me what happened?”

Jeannie’s angel looked at her, Matthieu, and his grim features softened slightly, but there was a wariness in his eyes that couldn’t be unseen.

“I’m fine, Mama. You know how I hate a bully.”

“I do – are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jeannie barely heard herself respond. Her hands were trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to contain the panic clawing at her chest. The adrenaline from the confrontation still surged through her veins, making her pulse hammer in her ears. She hadn’t even processed what had just happened when she felt movement beside her.

She turned sharply, her gaze locking on the man in the passenger seat. Who was he? Why was he still here? Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as she wiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand, only for him to casually reach into the glove box.

Jeannie stiffened, panic flaring—was he grabbing a weapon? Was she in danger?

Her breath hitched as he pulled out a handful of crumpled Taco Bell napkins, the motion so natural it was almost unsettling. Without a word, he held them out to her.

Jeannie hesitated for a fraction of a second before snatching them from his outstretched hand, pressing them to her face to hide the way her lips trembled. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to find her voice.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat there, studying her with an intensity that made her stomach twist. His blue eyes, so striking they almost glowed in the dim light of the car, seemed to strip away every layer of her defenses, seeing far more than she wanted him to.

Then, as if coming to a decision, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and flipped it open. A moment later, a driver’s license was in her line of sight.

“I’m Matthieu Larsson – the newest goalie of the Quebec Wolverines hockey team… maybe.” His voice was calm, but there was something beneath the surface—an edge, a weight she couldn’t quite place. The stunned gasps from the other end of the phone call echoed through the car, but Jeannie barely registered them. Her mind was spinning, trying to piece together what this meant.

What did he mean when he said ‘ maybe’ ?

“M-Mama, can I call you back?” Matthieu asked, still looking at Jeannie. His voice softened, but the tension in his posture remained. There was a slight warble to his voice, betraying his calm expression. “It’s a lot to explain, and I think I really need to talk to Jeannie first.”

“You should probably do that if you are doing this,” his mother replied, her voice laced with shock before the call ended with a soft click.

Silence stretched between them, thick and charged. Jeannie could feel his eyes on her, waiting, gauging her reaction. He nodded slightly, then pointed toward the steering wheel.

“Drive,” he said simply. His voice was gentle but firm. “Pick a place. Drive me to wherever you feel safe or want to go, and let’s talk—because now I think I need your help, too.”

Jeannie swallowed hard. Her fingers clenched around the napkins before she forced herself to move. With shaky hands, she shifted the car into reverse.

Her whole world had just tilted on its axis, but one thing was certain—nothing about this night was going to be simple.

As she pulled away from the curb, she couldn’t help but feel that she wasn’t just driving away from a dead-end job. She was driving straight into something far more complicated.

And she had no idea if she was ready for it.