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Once I get to my apartment, I use a bag of mixed greens, croutons, bacon bits, and shredded sharp cheddar cheese to make myself a salad. While I chomp on the lettuce, I think over my current predicament until I’m finished eating. I rinse the ranch off of my plate and leave it in the sink to do later. I pad into my bedroom and flop onto my bed, and decide to message Andreas before I can lose my nerve. With the app open, I type and quickly press send before I can second-guess myself:
ALANA MEYER:
Mr. Rivera,
Sorry for messaging you again, but I want to take you up on that phone call. I know you said you’d be in this weekend, but I would rather just have the conversation and get it over with in case we’re slammed when you find the time to come in. My phone number is in the app directory. I’m free this evening or tomorrow.
Thanks,
Alana Meyer
What am I going to say to him? I’m going to mention the flowers and the message that was left for me at work. I don’t want to sound accusatory, but I at least want to know if it’s him. Should I bring up what happened? Will he even want to talk about it? Shit, I didn’t think this through. As I wrestle with these thoughts, I do my dishes from dinner and head into my bedroom to fold my laundry. I open my music app and turn on an old R&B playlist to distract myself from my weird reality. The phone ringing interrupts the music.
The caller ID says it’s a local number, but I don’t have it saved. Trepidation fills my body as I lean over to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Alana. It’s Andreas. I was just checking the work app and saw your message. What can I do for you?” His voice oozes professionalism and charm. I groan, not knowing how I’m going to bring any of this up.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I just wanted to talk to you about something that’s been going on. As you know, I just moved to the area recently, and I don’t know anyone outside of a few of my neighbors and my coworkers. A couple of weeks ago, I came home from a night out with my girlfriends, and the next morning there were flowers on my welcome mat outside my apartment. Then at work this past week, someone called and left me a message about the flowers, and he said that he missed me. Would there be any way to look at the phone records to see where the call came from? It’s just been a little unnerving because this person knows where my apartment is and knows my schedule at work.” Now that the dam broke, it all rushes out of me. I didn’t realize how weirded out I was about the phone call until I started talking about it out loud.
“That’s strange. I understand why you feel uncomfortable. I can call our phone company and try to pull the phone records for that evening. Do you remember what night he called and around what time?” He sounds genuinely concerned, and it helps to relax me.
“It was Wednesday night around six-thirty. I didn’t get the chance to walk up and check on the message until closer to nine. By then, Katie lost the paper she wrote the note on. She only gave me the version she remembered, so it may not be verbatim what the original message was,” I respond. I follow it up by saying, “Oh shit. I forgot. Someone also left a note on my car. It was stuck under my windshield wiper when I walked out after my shift. I’m sure it’s nothing, but it still makes me feel weird.”
Andreas is quiet for a moment, then says, “I’ll definitely look into it. Have you discussed any of this with Jim?”
“No, and I’m not sure why. I can mention it to him next time I work.” I answer.
“Don’t bother. I’ll call him when we get off the phone and give him a heads up. We’ll make sure you don’t walk out alone after shift for a while. You have my number now. Please let me know if anything else happens.”
“Of course. Thanks again, Andreas.” The line is quiet for a second, and I wonder if he hung up.
He clears his throat and says, “While I have you on the phone. I want to apologize for what happened in the office. I should never have put you in that situation, and I’m deeply sorry.”
Here it is.
Confidence fills my brain, and I decide to sayfuck it.“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.”
Silence again.
“Hello?” I ask.
“I’m here,” Andreas says. “You’re saying you enjoyed what happened?”
“I enjoyed it,” I breathe.
I hear his sharp intake of breath before he says, “Have dinner with me.”
My eyes pop open in surprise. “When?”
“This week. I want you to know that I’m busy. I don’t have a lot of time for dating. But I’m incredibly attracted to you, and I want to see where this chemistry takes us,” he replies.
Ricole and Ashley would kill me if I don’t accept the offer, so I say, “Okay.”
“I’ll text you an address. See you soon.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and say, “Okay. Bye.”
