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“We aren’t looking for any male company right now.”
Eventually he leaves the table and we’re able to get back to our girls’ night, and by the time the night is over we’re both happy and relaxed and carefree. After I say my goodbyes and head back to my place, I almost forget about the fact that I’ve got some creepy asshole stalking me. I say almost, because Ihadforgotten until I was met with a reminder taped to my front door. A reminder in the form of a scantily clad photo taken of me without my consent.
I quickly rip it down and look up and down the hallway frantically, hoping that no one has seen it. Then I grab my cell and call the police, waiting for them inside. Thankfully they arrive quickly, and I tell them what happened and show them the picture that was taped to my door. My relief at seeing them is short lived though, because as soon as the officer starts speaking to me, I know this isn’t going to go the way I want it to.
“Miss Dodson, I’m going to take this back to the station but I’ve got to be honest with you; if the guy wore gloves, then there won’t be any DNA or fingerprints.”
I narrow my eyes, frowning.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning,” he says with a sigh, “that there won’t be anything we can do. You can say you know who it is or suspect someone all you want, but suspicions are just that; suspicions. Without any sort of proof—”
I cut him off with a huff, shaking my head, feeling defeated.
“I know, I know. No proof means you can’t do anything.”
I’m so beyond angry right now and it’s all I can do not to absolutely lose my mind. I just want to live my life in peace, is that so much to ask? Apparently so. I know that it’s not the officer’s fault and he’s just doing his job, but I can’t help feeling furious and more than a little helpless. Why can’t I just be able to come home and live my life without worry of someone stalking me or violating my privacy?
Sulking isn’t going to do anything about it though, and I figure I should get some sleep while I can. So, I thank the officers for their time and lock the door behind them as they leave, hoping that I can at least get some rest before I have to go back into work. Lord knows if this shit keeps up, I’m going to need it.
Thirty-Three
James
As the elevator drones in the background of my mind, at the forefront is Lily and her reaction the other day to my suspicion of her. The way that she stomped away, tells me just how angry she really is.
And hurt.
She has a right to be. What I said sounded very callous, methodical. And definitely not necessary. Sighing, I turn toward the polished steel to check out my reflection, fixing a couple of dark strands back out of my vision.
The doors open with a ding and the first thing I see is Lily, sitting at her desk. I love the color she has chosen for today, royal blue, a favorite of mine. Especially on blondes. But then again, anything she wears is fucking hot.
I bet she could wear trash bags and masking tape, and still have guys crawl all over her, tongues hanging out like a pack of wolves.
Knowing that an apology is needed to mend the gap between me and her, I feel like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Slowly and guiltily making the walk of shame.
As I approach her, I clear my throat and stand beside her desk. She doesn’t even look up and continues to type away on her computer. It’s been this way for a couple of days now. Her ignorance of me, shunning any attempt that I try to make to repair the damage.
I feel like I need to use the ‘mean old boss’ approach just to get her alone. So that I can actually talk with her. And hopefully mend the gap that I created.
David walks past me and Lily, winking at her with a handsome smile. He continues down the hall as I watch him disappear into the kitchenette. I look back down at Lily while she begins typing again.
Not seeing her response to David, I wonder what has been happening between these two in my absence. The Shunning of James Rawlings. I’ve had my pulse on what David has been up to with regard to stealing Lily for himself.
Maybe she’s falling for him. I guess I can’t blame her.
Even though I haven’t made much time for romance in the past, I’m no dipshit about the ways of a man when he wants to snake a gal away from another man. David’s allowance of saying certain things and getting her the roses, lets me know his motives.
Feeling my anger rise in me, I tap her shoulder and she brushes me off. Spinning her chair to face me and placing my hands on her arm so that she can’t move it, I look her dead in those emerald pools. “Would you kindly join me in my office?”
Standing, I walk into my office, and I turn to see a wide-eyed, yet angry woman glaring at me. “What do you want? To pile on more suspicion? Or maybe you’d like to fire—”
I cut her off, closing the door then sitting on the corner of my desk and crossing my arms over my chest. “Now hold on a minute,” her impatience with me has run out by the look on her upset face. “Lily, I want a chance to apologize.”
“Well, do it already. As you know, I have more files to sneak information out of so that I can earn a little extra cheese,” she exclaims, balling her hands into fists.
I stand and accidentally knock a glass clock from my desk, shattering it into a million pieces. I want to get it cleaned up, but the first order of business is smoothing things over with this feisty blonde.
