AllFreeNovel
Share Us
***
I was halfway through my fourth read-through of the planner since I’d opened it two nights ago, when I heard a knock at my door.
Christian was on the other side, once again looking too handsome for his own good. I unlatched the top lock and opened the door.
“Coach just called. MRI results are in. I can resume practice tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, wow. That’s great news, Christian.”
He nodded. “Thought maybe you’d come help me celebrate.”
I looked down. I’d already changed into shorts and a T-shirt and washed the makeup from my face. “I’m sort of prepped for bed.”
“Is that the only reason you don’t want to celebrate with me?”
“Of course.”
Christian leaned down and reached for something on the ground off to the side of the door. He held up a champagne bottle and two glasses with a grin. “My room or yours then?”
I laughed. “You tricked me. Besides, you told me you don’t drink.”
Christian bent to the floor again. This time he held up a small bottle of apple juice. “It’s the closest thing they had at the bar that looks like champagne.”
“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your teammates?”
“Why would I do that when I have such a hot neighbor?”
I figured it was my obligation as team owner to celebrate good news when I was with the team—at least that’s what I told myself as I stepped back so Christian could enter. “One drink.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
As soon as he came inside, his eyes went to the planner. It was open to a page, face down in the middle of the bed. “I was…rereading. Trying to figure out if I missed anything important.”
Christian peeled the foil from the champagne. “What’s the verdict so far?”
“Still just a weird summary of events that occurred while he followed me, and a note here and there.”
The loud pop of the champagne startled me, even though I’d watched him open it. I jumped. “Sorry, reading that thing puts me a little on edge for some reason.”
He poured champagne into one flute, then twisted the top off the apple juice and poured it into the other. Passing the first flute to me, he held his up in a toast. “To getting back to work.”
We clinked glasses. “To getting the star of the team back,” I added. After we sipped, I motioned to the planner. “Would you want to see a few pages? I feel like I’ve told you how odd it is, but seeing it and hearing about it are two different things.”
Christian shrugged. “If you don’t mind.”
I was kind of curious to get someone else’s take. I’d never kept a planner, so maybe this type of thing wasn’t that unusual. I picked up the book from the bed, flipped a few pages, and held it out to Christian. “Start here.”
Christian took the book and sat down on the edge of the bed. I chewed a fingernail as he read one page and then the other, before flipping to the next.
After two more pages, he stopped and looked up at me. “Did you go to Stuyvesant High School?”
I nodded. “And I was on the math team. Did you see the note that says Japan donation? Every four years, the team went to Japan for the World High School Math Olympics. It was expensive, but the team would raise money each year to fund the trip. We used to sell candy. Before my mom died, I would give the order form to her, and people at her work would all place orders. But once she was gone, I didn’t know anyone who could afford to waste money on overpriced candy, so I went door to door. But then the following year, we didn’t have to go door to door anymore. Someone paid for the entire club to go on the trip. There was a rumor that the donation stipulated that the team couldn’t go door to door anymore selling things.”
“John made the contribution?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea, but he watched me go door to door. And then there’s that note. I think he might have.”
Christian thumbed through a few more pages without reading. “The whole thing is like this?”
“Every page.”
“Well, now I get what you mean when you say it’s creepy. I don’t think I could’ve visualized how weird it is—just line after line of places you went, and you had no idea anyone was following you.”
“I know. I really wish I could ask Tiffany and Rebecca about it. But I doubt they know what he did, since they had no idea I existed until the will reading. Maybe they could help me understand why he would do it. They had to know him better than most people—he was their father, and they worked together for so many years.”
“Why don’t you? Worst that can happen is they tell you to screw off. But it seems like they do their best to tell you that every time they see you anyway.”
