Just two nights after the incident, a box showed up at my hotel room with some kind of self-defense keychain that can only be described as ‘cute but deadly’. I pulled it out and instantly felt like a bedazzled Jason Bourne. It had pepper spray (bold choice after, well…you know), a stabby thing shaped like a cat, which made me think of Wonton and how this version was still more cuddly than he is, a whistle that could crack glass, and a flashlight that would blind someone before I’d be able to see who they were. It also had a pom-pom, because, again, 'cute'.
It came with a note that said…
Please look before you spray.
Which, honestly, I get.
And when Melanie said he hired me a ‘person to go everywhere with’, I didn’t think it would be a man named James that drew more attention to me than I’ve ever had in my entire life. Something about having a tall, muscular man outfitted in a black suit standing around you with sunglasses on made everyone look at you like you were a celebrity.
I was not a fan.
And I swear there are more security guards than there are fans, even though the last event was sold out at thirteen hundred people.
For someone who told me I should have stayed in my small, safe life, he sure seems to care a lot about making sure I can stay.
Now, Evan is sitting four rows ahead of me on this plane to Chicago, and I try my best to glare at him like a three-year-old thatjust had their cookie taken away and was given broccoli instead. I don’t know what the cookie is momentarily, but Evan is definitely the broccoli.
But I kind of like broccoli. With some ranch.
Ranch is the grace broccoli needs, and I hate to admit it.
I don’t want to admit it.
I shouldn’t admit it.
So, I’ll just admit it quietly.
Maybe Evan needs grace, too.
He’s been trying to make this easy for me.
It’s not just the extra security.
It’s the company credit card, the separate rows on the airplane, and the new schedule Melanie sent me that gives me a lot more time to explore the cities and write my human-interest pieces, which have been a lot more interesting when you have a bodyguard to parade around. A bodyguard that two women tried to flirt with and get to smile, like James was a guard at Buckingham Palace.
He hadn’t. James was not easily amused, but thankfully James is now gone.
With my stalker in handcuffs, I asked Melanie to relieve him of his duties, and I'm looking forward to exploring Chicago without his giant shadow following me around.
And I think Evan has been doing all of this for me, even though I haven't exactly acted like I'm appreciative of it.
I owe Evan an apology and also a ‘thank you’. I just have to figure out how to say it.
Chapter 24
Evan
ChicagoisChicago.
Coffee. Pizza. Rachel’s bare feet and pink dress that twirls when she spins, which is often, like right now underneath The Bean.
I notice the bodyguard I hired is gone. Melanie told me Rachel asked that he be let go. I wanted to argue, to keep her safe, because what do we really know about the other nine hundred thousand subscribers on that fan site?
But I can’t control everything. I’ve learned that the hard way. Controlling everything can push people away.
I caught a break between book signings and photo ops and thought I’d visit the weirdly-shaped sculpture that every single tourist seems to flock to. I’ve been here multiple times over the last few years, and I figured Rachel would make it here.
But I didn’t really believe I’d see her. What are the chances?
