I’m on my second session of stalking for the day, but perhaps my first day of killing. This morning, I relished in watching Eliza open the door to her giant flower delivery and Mark’s confused face behind her. She smiled at him, they hugged, and he poked his head out the door like he was looking for the bogeyman.
Relationship saved.
Temporarily, anyway.
Now, I’m watching Brooks. Or, he’s who I was supposed to be watching, anyway. I don’t know who the woman is who skips down Brooks’s steps and enters the taxi with a smile on her face, but I intend to find out. And as soon as possible.
I think she was brunette, but the indirect glow from the taxi’s headlights wasn’t enough to be sure.
As I’m scouring Brooks’s friends list, looking for anyone who may resemble the presumed gold digger, I catch movement and see his garage lift. Shit. I drop my phone in my lap, and shift into drive. High-tail out of the area, a little puff of smoke left behind—my hands shaking like I’ve had too much coffee, except it’s the rage waking my inner demon.
Am I not good enough for him? What am I missing?
Then, just as I feel as if I’m about to explode, run my car off the road, hunt down the brunette and torture answers out of her, a text sounds.
My savior. My soul mate who doesn’t know any better:
Saw your Facebook post. I’m actually gonna be in Myrtle the same time as you. You know my family has a house there, right? I can drive you if you haven’t found anyone. Was gonna fly, but I can cancel, so let me know.
A smile rests at the corner of my mouth before I will it away when I think of the brunette again. I’m working so hard, and not getting back what I’m putting in. I must demand his attention like a little child. By ignoring.
Yes, I found someone. Thanks for asking.
I wait, my eyes sticky on the screen as the minutes tick by, my heart threatening to stop beating out of fear he may not fight for us. I wait, and wait, and wait. I wait so long, I end up at home screaming into my pillow, Lucy pawing at me as if I’m being hurt. But it’s too late for that. I am hurt. I hurt every second of every day, because I don’t have them, and I don’t have him. I am even doubting whether my friendship with Jared is sustainable. The questioning, the feel of imagined betrayal as I suspected, however briefly, that he was the one who’d broken into my house was enough for me to put some safe distance between us.
Trust no one.
A ding. I jerk my head up, my hand swiping the phone from the nightstand, nearly knocking off the lamp and sending Lucy into a barking frenzy. I shush her. Squeal with delight when I see that it’s him.
Who? Do you know them? I’m going there to buy a boat, so I really don’t mind.
I purse my lips, eager to respond, but determined to go by the book. It’s better to wait awhile. I set a timer for twenty-five minutes. That’s an appropriate response time of a normal person with a life. I take a bath. Finger my pussy to the thought of us fucking. Then spend entirely too long Googling things like “Why are men players?” and “Reasons a man would have a woman over other than sex” and “Average time for a man to propose.” After reading too many posts I wish I hadn’t, I toss my phone onto the tile and wish I had some ice cream, but broccoli it is.
I sigh. Bite my lip until I taste a touch of copper. There’s simply no other explanation for who that woman was other than someone he’s interested in. Maybe I’ll ask Jared about this. I don’t need to trust him to get a little man-to-man opinion, right?
Impulsively, I dial him.
“Yo!”
He listens while I drone on about the girl, but I don’t admit to stalking his house, of course. I was stopping by to “return his wallet.”
Jared laughs. “You know sex is not the same for men as it is for women, right?”
“Well, I’m personally not okay with someone I’m interested in getting off from someone else,” I snap. I almost feel guilty for the double standard I’ve set, but then I don’t because my escapades have purpose. They’re for the greater good of us both.
“Oh, yeah, for sure. And honestly, Brooks has always seemed a little—”
I miss Jared’s last word, too soft with Lucy’s sudden barking. “Hey, um … let me call you back,” I whisper, then hang up.
Quietly, I rise from the tub. Wrap a towel around my body without even shaking the excess water off. I tiptoe to my bedroom window and peek out. Almost scream when I see Brooks’s Audi. Lucy is still barking like crazy when Brooks resorts to the doorbell.
“Be right there!” I yell, quickly throwing on some sweats and brushing on some powder before applying gloss. When I open the door, his arms are crossed—he’s somewhere between relaxed and impatient. I know it’s crazy, but for a moment I’m scared he’s here because he’s found out my secret. “Yes?”
He quickly clears his throat. “You didn’t text me back yet, and I was around the corner, so figured I’d stop by.”
“Oh-kay?” I eye him incredulously, savoring every bit of him, reveling in his nervousness.
“Okay, what? I kind of need to know now since we’d be leaving tomorrow and I’d have a flight to cancel.”
“I told you I found someone already,” I say, my tone icy.
“Why do you need someone to drive? Are you still sick? Why are you going anyway?”
Damn, he asks lots of questions. “One: I like the beach. Two: I can’t drive long distances without falling asleep, and I also don’t want to go alone. Three: I’ve only gotten dizzy once since you dropped me off. Four: My grandmother lives there in a nursing home. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.”
He nods. Sucks his teeth. “Cancel the other guy.”
“Excuse me? How do you know it’s a guy?”
He rolls his eyes. “Cancel whomever it is, and ride with me instead.”
“Why should I? We can’t even be seen together, but you want to go on a six-hour drive and a weekend trip?”
“I’ll risk it if it means you not riding with some guy who’s just hoping to get into your pants.”
“Hmm, like you already did?” My eyes burn into his until they turn a dark denim.
“There are much easier routes to getting my dick sucked than you, Emily.”
I raise an eyebrow at his logic. “Touché. Well, we can’t stand here all day. Would you like to come in?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. It’s a long drive, and I don’t have a giant SUV like you, so pack lightly.”
I wave at him as he walks to his car, simultaneously waving off most of my worries over Ms. Brunette.