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I stand there and watch, allowing myself a few seconds of gratification before I spin on my heel and leave.
With a smile on my face.
Chapter15
Calista
I have a stalker.
The evidence is too strong to ignore. That’s to say nothing of my intuition. Over the past weeks, I’ve felt a presence looming, watching.
At first, I chalked it up to nerves, or maybe even poor nutrition—but anxiety doesn’t steal your necklace. Nor does it place pearls on your nightstand during the middle of the night.
I’ve woken up to eight of them in the last week.
After scanning the Sugar Cube to confirm there are no customers near the register, I look at Harper. She’s cleaning the coffee machine with a rag. When she meets my gaze, she grips the metal spout and runs her hand up and down while waggling her brows.
“What?” she says, feigning innocence. “A girl’s gotta practice.”
“If that’s the size you’re working with, then you won’t have to practice for long.”
She squeals. “Where has this Calista been all my life? Dare I say that I’ve found a secret perverted side hiding underneath your prim and proper exterior?”
I shake my head with a grin. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“I do have that effect on people.”
“Harper, can I ask you a question?” When she nods, I take a preparatory breath, steeling myself for her response. “Hypothetically, if someone had a stalker, what necessary steps would that person need to take to remove said stalker from their life? Hypothetically.”
“Wow. Politician’s daughter much?” Her face loses all traces of mirth. “Seriously, Cal, what’s going on?”
I bite my lip, working the tender skin between my teeth. “I’m not sure.”
“But something’s happening, or you wouldn’t have asked me such a crazy,hypothetical, question.” She walks over to stand next to me and takes my hand, her gaze clouded with worry while avidly searching mine. “You can tell me.”
“I think someone’s been in my apartment,” I whisper, all but forcing the words from my mouth. Hearing them out loud gives them life, makes this real. “I’m so scared.”
“Holy fuck balls. Okay, I want to know everything, and don’t leave out a single detail.”
I launch into the story of how I went to bed wearing the pearl necklace my father gave me on my sixteenth birthday, only for a single pearl to be sitting on my nightstand when I woke the next morning. The necklace was missing, obviously, but nothing else was taken.
However, I don’t tell her that I’ve received more individual pearls. Instead, I confess that my feelings of being watched intensified. I tell her I’ve felt this way since the day of my father’s funeral but wrote it off as grief and due to the stress of finding myself penniless.
Harper lets me talk without interruption. She even shushes a customer who asks for a cake pop, then goes so far as to get me one while ignoring them.
I grip the stick tightly, hoping it’ll stop my hands from shaking. It doesn’t work. I’m afraid nothing will ease the fear and that it’ll only continue to grow.
“Isn’t that what happens to stalker’s victims?” I ask. “Don’t they end up dead?”
Harper grabs my shoulders. “First of all, we’re not going to let that happen to you. Second, I need a moment to think.” After ten seconds of silence, she nods. “Suspects. That’s where we should start. Give me a list of potential stalkers. And go.”
“I have no idea.”
“Any past relationships that ended badly?”
I shake my head. “My ex-fiancé called off the engagement, so it’s unlikely he wants me back. I haven’t spoken to Adam since he took the ring back.”
“Oof, that’s cold. What about someone you rejected?”
