Page 17 of Rogue’s Path (Sweet Chaos #1)

Dylan

The view outside of the cab window changes from city streets to the suburbs with more than the occasional tree.

Why did I even call the police? It’s not like they didn’t want to help. The officers can only do what the law allows.

Without a direct threat, all they can do is take the card as evidence and suggest that I move hotels.

The stalker found me! Like he couldn’t find me at the next hotel?

Going off grid at Cordelia’s house makes it virtually impossible to be found.

While I’m here, I’ll take some time to regroup, figure out how the nut job is finding me, and come up with a plan to make him stop.

Simple.

Then why is your hand still shaking?

It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

You’re a mystery writer. This is the biggest one you’ll ever solve.

Except being the writer means I always know who did it.

If I wanted to solve mysteries, I would have become a cop or an FBI agent. Although hunting down thieves and murderers sounds like fun.

The paperwork does not.

I’ll stick to fake murderers and stalkers, thank you very much.

The cab comes to a stop.

Cordelia’s house, if you can call it a house, could be an old Victorian boarding house with its wrap-around porch and gingerbread trim everywhere. There should be a little old lady outside sipping her tea and doing her needlepoint while she waits for friends to show up to gossip with.

Instead, Cordelia stands up, leaving her swing moving silently behind her.

Her dress doesn’t have any sequins on it, but there are definitely pearls around her throat.

Is this who she is all the time? Somehow, I expected nothing less of her.

She would look odd in a sweatshirt and a pair of leggings.

The cab driver takes my bags out of the trunk and leaves before Cordelia makes it down her drive.

“I’m so glad you came.” She grabs the handle of one of my cases.

“This is going to be so much fun. I hope you like the room I picked for you. It overlooks the garden in the back and has an attached sitting room, which I thought would be perfect for you to work. But you’re welcome to pick another room if you like. ”

The house might look old, but there isn’t a single creak as we step onto the porch. All around the porch in little vignettes are groupings of furniture covered in florals and lace with doilies under vases full of what looks like real flowers and other knick-knacks.

We step into another world upon entering her house. Smooth woods, old rugs, and antiques fill each room that we walk through.

Cordelia stops by a cabinet. “You can leave your bags here. The dumbwaiter will take them upstairs.”

Dumbwaiter?

She opens the cabinet, which isn’t really a cabinet. It’s a facade for a dumbwaiter that’s big enough to be a small elevator.

The shelves inside fold up, and all my bags fit.

She closes the cabinet. “This way is the kitchen.”

Cordelia runs a business cooking in this house? It’s impossible to think of it ever getting messy.

She could be one of those people who keep everything spotless.

“Is that a wood-burning stove?”

“Sure is. I only cook with it in the winter, but it was too lovely to walk away from.”

But there isn’t another stove in the room. “How is that possible?”

“They’re quite safe and easy to use. They might not have any modern conveniences, but I assure you they were well designed.”

“What I mean is, where are the cakes?”

“Oh.” She grins. “Follow me.”

Off the pantry, which is stocked with enough food to feed a small army, there’s a set of stairs.

The scents wafting up the stairs are indescribably delightful.

It’s like a bakery met a fruit stand. At the bottom of the stairs, yet another new world starts.

The modern space is filled with rows of industrial mixers, rolling shelves, basically everything needed to run a medium-sized bakery.

But what sets it apart from the ugly feel of most commercial spaces are the hot pink tiles, white marble and steel counters, and white leather stools with so much padding you could probably sit on them for hours.

It’s like two totally different people live in this space.

Who is Cordelia? An unmarried trad wife or a wild baker?

****

Even though I had barely arrived at Cordelia’s house, I had to rush out to go to Ivy Café. This wild addiction to kissing Rogue is getting out of hand.

But I don’t know how to control it.

As soon as I get my laptop open, my phone rings.

Taylor! “Hello.”

“Sorry it took so long for me to call.”

So long? It feels like a minute ago that we talked last. “You sound like you’re far away.”

“That’s because I’m on the other side of the world in a remote village. The satellite I’m bouncing off of isn’t ideally located, so we might get disconnected at anytime.”

Tell him. Ask him for help. He’s the security guy. “How was your trip?”

“Uneventful so far.” You can practically feel the pout in his voice.

That’s such a little boy thing to do. “Disappointed?”

“Uneventful is a good thing in my line of work.”

“But I bet it’s boring.” I’d be bored staring at the same man for hours. Unless it was Rogue.

“Only a little bit. This is one of the few countries I hadn’t visited before. Normally, I’d be excited that we’re staying for a while. But I want to see you.”

Why comes to mind. “You’re not missing much.” Liar. “Though I’ve already left Urbium.”

“Where are you now?”

“You don’t have a super spy machine that tells you exactly where I am?” Do those really exist? What if my stalker has one?

He chuckles. “Do I need to get it out?”

So there is one. “No. I’m in Silent Valley, staying with a friend.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Not as much as traveling the world.” This summer, I should make time to go overseas. I could tour the world looking for unsolved mysteries. Not to solve them, but to add them to my collection. Or I could learn to toss throwing stars in Japan. Martial arts all over Asia. “Tell me about it.”

Two hours later, I’ve finished all my food and laughed hard enough to pull every eye in the place my way.

“I’ve got to go.” Taylor’s voice gets garbled. “Talk to you later.”

And the phone clicks off.

That conversation was comfortable. Fun even.

But that’s it. There wasn’t a single spark.

It’s possible that I’m friend-zoning him because he’s not ready for anything else.

Rogue makes me feel a spark every time I even think about him.

He didn’t show up.

Maybe he’s running late. I’ll work for a little while more…