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“Well, go over your plan with me,” I offer with a smile.
ChapterTen
PARKER
The week has been boring.Work. Work. Work. And nothing else much, aside from several texts from Allison, who is working hard on getting a loan and finding a building for her new venture. I love my job. I really do.
It’s as nerdy as I am.
I’m a market research analyst for an investment company. I do all the research and reports to project where money should be invested in the long term and what will make the most profit. I love it, mainly because I can work alone in my office.
Just me and my research.
It’s what I love. It’s where I am comfortable. Alone with numbers. My anxiety vanishes the moment I power on my computer and begin to research, take notes, type them out, and gather the data I need.
But I know that the anxiety will return. When it’s time to head home. When it’s time to see Doctor Hamilton again. When I have to walk into that office building of hers, go up the stairs, into the room, and talk about my life.
Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly. The clock ticks as I work. Usually, it wouldn’t matter, but today, I have to see the doctor, and my heart races faster and harder with each minute that passes until it reaches five o’clock.
Once my alarm rings, announcing it is indeed time to clock out, I begin to move, almost as if I’m a zombie and am just going through the motions as I close my computer down. I have a big project I need to finish by Monday, so instead of leaving my computer here, I pack it up in my laptop bag and throw the strap over my shoulder.
Gathering my purse and everything else I need, I slip out of my office and head for the elevator banks. Nobody else is here. The building is quiet and empty. On Friday afternoons, it always vacates before five. It seems as if people go to lunch and just never come back.
I did that last week, but I didn’t just leave. I actually requested the time off because I am nothing, if not a habitual rule follower.
Moving through the building, I realize I haven’t felt that sensation of being watched at all today. Although, I haven’t left my office either, except to use the bathroom and refill my water bottle.
But even as I walked to work, then around the building, nothing. I wonder if it was all just a fluke. Or maybe I’ve been focusing my attention on work and haven’t had time to even think about it.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as my mind wanders to something else I’ve been avoiding thinking about… well, someoneelse. The stranger from Club Nova. The way Allison described him hasn’t disappeared yet. I don’t know what he was doing with me, and then he didn’t ask me any questions, didn’t try to get my number, didn’t even let me see his face.
It’s all so bizarre… and enthralling all at the same time.
Moving down the streets of Dallas, heading straight toward Doctor Hamilton’s office, I feel as if I’m lost in a daze. This man, this stranger, he made me feel things I’ve never felt before. I’ve never touched myself thinking of a real man in my life.
Usually, if I do that at all, it’s after a spicy scene in my book, and I imagine the characters like a movie, playing out their desires right there in my mind. But I’ve never imagined a man who I know, not that I know him. I didn’t even see his face.
I am a mess.
As I approach the doctor’s office, I realize I haven’t been thinking, and the crippling anxiety hasn’t, well… taken me down. Tugging the front door open, I take a step into the lobby and wait for the pain and panic to seize my lungs.
Nothing happens.
In fact, I’m able to breathe even as I walk toward the elevator bank, except as I extend my arm and touch the up button, the sensation of being watched washes over me. My spine straightens and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder to check if anyone is there… The lobby is empty. Frowning, I shift my attention back to the elevator as it dings. I step into the car, turn around, and look again, trying to find the eyes that are indeed on me.
They aren’t there.
There is nobody.
The doors close, and the elevator climbs. That sensation of my lungs squeezing happens with each ascending floor. I thought my mind was busy enough that I could avoid all of this, but I was wrong.
When the doors open, the bell ringing sounds like an alarm. My feet move, even though I don’t tell them to. It feels as if I’m thrust forward, not of my own accord. I stumble, then right myself and my bags as I stand in front of the office door.
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the knob and gently turn it. My breathing sounds like wheezing at this point, but I make myself go inside, forcing myself to find the lobby couch. There is no secretary. She’s probably already gone home for the night.
Once my butt hits the sofa, I wring my hands together in my lap, telling myself to breathe, whispering the word over and over. Until I hear a man’s voice whisper instead of my own.
