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I pour myself a new mug of coffee, taking a sip and then sighing deeply. I hear the door to the break room open, and I turn to see who it is. My stomach tightens when I see one of the potential investors, the one who’d been giving me weird looks all afternoon.
I shoot him a tight-lipped smile, making to move around him and exit the breakroom. But just as I take a step, he moves in front of me, blocking my way. I frown, confused, meeting his gaze. And just then, it hits me. Where I know him from.
The gentlemen’s club.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me, and I suddenly realize why he must have been staring at me all afternoon. He recognizes me too. Shit. I try to sidestep him again, but he blocks my way, and I send him a confused look.
“What—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I’ve missed you,” he says in a low voice, and it sends a horrible chill down my spine. “Why haven’t you been working at the club this last week?”
I swallow, taking a small step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smiles slowly. “Come on. You remember me, don’t you? I always left you the best tips. And those notes?”
Dread settles in the pit of my stomach, and my eyes widen. The notes. Oh my god. I wrack my brain, and vague memories of this man come back to me. How he’d reached out to touch my back, his fingers always lingering too long. Sure, he’d left good tips, but so did many of the guys. And the notes …
He was the one leaving notes in my locker.
The one who left a note at my apartment.
The man who’d attacked me in the parking lot?
“Did you …” I stammer. “Try to kidnap me?” I take a step backward, and he follows me.
“Kidnap is a strong word,” he says in a placating tone.
“What the fuck do you want?” I say, taking another step back. He follows me.
“I’ve just missed you, that’s all.”
I bump up against the wall, and the man takes another impossibly closer step. Panic settles in my stomach, and every nerve is on fire.
“Had I known you were also in the business of being a personal assistant, I’d have hired you as my own.” He reaches out, his hand nearing my face, but I push it away. His gaze darkens. “Don’t make this difficult like last time,” he says, his voice low. He reaches out to touch my waist, pinning me against the wall. “I could easily get you fired here.”
My skin crawls from his touch, and I try to push him away, but his grip remains steady. “Don’t touch me,” I demand, but my voice wavers.
Suddenly the door to the break room opens, and in walks Asher. I meet his gaze over the man’s shoulder, and within a heartbeat, he reads my expression and stalks across the room. Before the man can even turn around to see who it is, Asher grabs his shoulder and yanks him around.
“What’s going on?” Asher demands, his voice low.
I didn’t think it was possible to see this man shrink, but he somehow does in Asher’s presence. “Nothing,” he says quickly. “Just speaking with your assistant.”
Asher glances to me, to my obviously rattled expression. “Looks like a bit more than speaking,” he snaps, letting go of the man’s shoulder with a shove.
He staggers back a step. The man straightens, adjusting his suit jacket. “Everything is fine,” he assures Asher. “I’ll see you back in the conference room.” He sends one last look at me before leaving.
As the door shuts behind him, Asher turns to me, grabbing my shoulders and taking me in. “Are you okay?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows. “What happened?”
I take in a shuddering breath. “It’s … it’s him,” I say.
His eyes widen. “What?”
I bite back a sob. “It’s him, the one who’s been leaving me notes, who attacked me at the club.” I wrap my arms around my stomach, suddenly overwhelmed with what’s just happened.
“You’re sure?” Asher asks, looking into my eyes.
I nod. “He admitted it. And I recognized him from the club. He was there almost every night I worked.”
