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But now, every time she met a man she wondered if he was hiding any ugly secrets. She supposed she was angrier with Phil for making her feel that way than for anything else he’d ever done to her.
Once she was home, she took a long, hot shower and crawled into bed with a glass of brandy and her library book. Reading was one of the few things that took her mind off of her problems. She read herself to sleep, waking just before dawn to find her nightstand light still on and the book lying on her chest. Moments like that were always so satisfying.
The next morning she was making coffee when her doorbell rang.
“Yes?”
“Um, hi. It’s the guy from the club. The one you left holding a fresh drink?”
Sophia’s gut clenched. “What do you want?”
“I want to return your phone. You left it on the table.”
“Oh. Okay, thank you.” She buzzed him in, and opened the door, but left it on the chain.
In the cold light of day he was, if anything, even more handsome than he’d been at the club. Unnervingly so. He was standing in the hallway in a black tee shirt and worn jeans, looking like someone’s birthday cake. He held the phone out and she reached through the gap and took it.
“Thank you.”
“Two things,” he told her, “and then I’ll go. First, I put my name and number in there in case you ever need help. This isn’t a come-on, it’s genuine. My sister had a stalker and it shattered her peace of mind for years. If I can help, I will. Otherwise you can ignore it; no harm, no foul.”
She didn’t reply.
“Second. Please consider talking to someone. I also put the name and number of my sister’s counselor in there. Again, there’s nothing attached to it. But she helped Joanie.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He frowned and pitched his voice low. “Are you okay right now?” he asked. It took her a moment to get his meaning.
“You mean is he here? No, he’s not. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” Sophia was embarrassed. “Just a minute.” She closed the door and unchained it. “I’m sorry. I’m still rattled about last night. I shouldn’t be; he still shows up where he’s not welcome. Would you like to come in?”
“No. I’m not going to intrude. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I just made a fresh pot of coffee. You’re welcome. Really.” She was so ashamed at having behaved as if this guy was the enemy when the truth was that he was the only person who had ever unreservedly stood between her and Phil. Everyone else, even her family, had been ambivalent about the situation at least occasionally.
“If you’re sure. I don’t want to be part of the problem.”
“You’re not. I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for what you did. You had no way of knowing how violent he might have been, but you stepped up. I really appreciated that. Please come in.”
“Thanks.” He followed her to the kitchen. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Daniel Buchanan.”
“Sophia Eklund. But you know that. Silly of me. Please sit down. I got up early and went to the bakery on the corner, so there’s a pecan coffee cake. I hope you like them.”
“Love ‘em,” he said.
She poured two cups of coffee and set the coffee cake on the table. There was an uncomfortable silence as they whitened their coffee and Sophia cut slices of coffee cake, but then they both started talking at once.
“I’m sorry. You first,” he said with a laugh.
“No, guests first.”
“I was going to ask if you’re comfortable talking about that guy. If not, it’s okay, that’s your business. But if you did…” He let the thought trail off.
Her first instinct was to say no, she wasn’t particularly comfortable. But again she was reminded that he had done for her what no one else had ever done. Maybe she owed him an explanation.
“I met him about four years ago,” she began. “He was a blind date. We hit it off, seemed to like the same things. But later I began to realize that he’d been lying about the things he liked just so we’d have things in common.”
Daniel was nodding as he listened. “And once you were hooked, he tried to make you change and like his stuff, right?”
