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“I don’t mind. I’ll do it forever if you need me to. Take care of yourself, Mallory,” was the last she said before hanging up.
I sat and stared at my phone for a few minutes, oddly unsettled by the end of the call.
It wasn’t until I was heading back to Fred’s with a bag full of spicy aromatic takeout that it hit me.
Mallory.
Take care of yourself, Mallory.
* * *
“I think nowthat the biggest event in Willow Creek is officially over, we can give ourselves a big pat on the back for that dinner service,” Leo’s voice boomed across the kitchen.
I leaned gratefully against a metal worktop and smiled. Tonight was the first time his restaurant had catered a large-scale wedding. It had been for a couple of local kids turned viral sensations turned millionaires. Leo’s had catered their wedding, and the resulting footage they and their guests had filmed would catapult his humble haute cuisine place into the stratosphere. I couldn’t have been happier for him—or more uncertain about my future in Willow Creek.
The videos had to be making the rounds on all sorts of viewing platforms, and I’d made every effort to stay out of them. I had no idea if I’d succeeded, but the chances of Kirill seeing me in the background of a random influencer’s video were slim to none. He wasn’t a social media kind of guy.
The problem with Willow Creek had more to do with Fede calling me by my real name a few days ago. If she knew my name, there was only one place she could have gotten it from. Even to the staff at Grateful Dawn nursing home, I was Lori Wilson, so it must have been one of Kirill’s men or Kirill himself. Had she been dropping it like some kind of hidden message? A warning that he’d gotten to her?
Did that mean he’d traced the call? I’d always used a burner, but was that enough? I had no idea. I was outclassed in the realm of devious, illegal behavior next to his power and reach, not to mention his natural ability to be a crazed stalker.
I should leave now and stop dragging my feet. I knew it in my gut. But then I’d lose the only good things in my life. Willow Creek, Fred and Leo, my job. It was no longer just me to worry about. I also had to worry about the baby. It was utterly exhausting.
Tonight, Leo had called in a favor from everyone he knew to make the service seamless at such a big event. I’d agreed to help, even though I’d never been so tired. The kitchen was cleaned, and the staff were in high spirits as they headed to a local bar to celebrate the event’s success.
“You coming, Molly?” Tara, one of the other servers, asked as she grabbed her bag.
“Sure, for a little while,” I agreed.
I didn’t want to go, but since the conversation with Federica, I was jumpy when alone. I liked to stick with a group as much as possible.
You think these people will be able to stop me from taking you, Molly?
The unwelcome voice of a ghostly Kirill in my head was goading. I left the kitchen before I could dwell on it too much. A big group stood outside in the courtyard in front of the old brick building. I joined them, feeling safer immediately.
“Everyone good?” someone called from the front before the group moved in the direction of the bar.
Leo’s place sat off Main Street. I glanced back as we went and sighed. The wedding planner had put a little sign in the window to make it clear to guests where the dinner was being held. It was a chalkboard lit with candles that still shone in the darkness. I’d bet a million bucks Leo had forgotten all about it. I was pretty sure he was still inside.
“Hey, you go on. I’ll just be a second,” I said to Tara.
“You want me to wait?” she asked, breaking off her conversation with the guy next to her.
I shook my head. “No, it’s cool. Leo’s still inside. I’ll catch up.”
I turned, speed-walked the ten steps through the courtyard to the kitchen door, and unlocked it with a number pressed into the keypad.
“Leo? You still here?” I called through the empty kitchen.
All the lights were on, so I was sure he was still there, but I couldn’t see any sign of him in the back. I headed toward the front, intending to blow out the candles myself.
A sudden loud pop sent my heart flying into my mouth, and my whole body tensed as I spun around, looking for the source of the sound.
Leo laughed at my panicked expression before sobering as he took me in. He was standing at the door of the walk-in freezer, holding a bottle of vintage champagne in his hands, and the cork was lying on the counter. “Geez, sorry, Molly. I was having a little toast to celebrate. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine. I’ll send you my therapy bill for PTSD,” I joked lamely, trying to calm my pounding heartbeat.
“Deal. I’m happy to cover all the champagne cork-popping-related trauma you have,” he grinned. “Aren’t you going to the bar?”
