AllFreeNovel
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When he’s finished watching his teammates after only fifteen minutes, he gets up and leaves. I’m close behind, but not close enough to be recognized. I blend into the crowd on the streets outside. I’m glad he doesn’t drive a car around the city, or else I’d be fucked. I don’t have one of my own, and I can’t even afford cab fare. So this is actually kind of perfect.
Except by the time hours pass and he is still doing nonsequential things, my feet are screaming, and I swear I have blisters on my soles.
It isn’t until the sun is nearly setting that he finally slows, stopping in front of a restaurant. A restaurant that seems... fancy considering his casual attire.
Is this where he’s meeting the mystery texter? Is Ed inside waiting?
My nerves and anxiety flare once again as I watch him step into the restaurant. I spy from outside the glass as he gives the woman at the front his name, and she leads him to the back, blocking him from my view.
Well, fuck.
If this isn’t fucking suspicious, I don’t know what is.
Why would he meet Ed in such an open place? What if it isn’t Ed? What if he has a date?
My chest boils with the heat of sudden jealousy, but I shove that aside. I don’t have any claim to him. We’re... platonic. As platonic as obsessive stalkers go, that is.
With steely determination, I head inside, trying not to feel out of place in my jeans and T-shirt. Rowan came in wearing the same thing. Granted, he looks like a male-model made of a million bucks. I look like something that was scraped off the road. Only on my off days, though.
It’s really true that money does make beauty. When you grow up poor, you know that exponentially.
The inside of the place is swanky with its ambient music, crystal chandeliers, and carpets that look clean enough to lick. The same woman who had guided Rowan to the back is there again. She takes a look at me. I don’t expect a warm welcome. In fact, I brace myself in case she tries to throw me out.
Instead, she gives me a once over. “Atlas Ortega?” she asks sweetly.
“Um...” How the fuck does she know my name? “Yeah?”
She smiles. “Right this way please. Your party is waiting for you.”
Party? What party? I don’t do parties. Is it appropriate for spies to run away with their tails between their legs? What do they do when they’re in crisis mode?
Cry? I feel like I could cry right now.
My legs nearly lock together out of fear, but somehow, I find myself following her to the back of a place I never thought I’d be caught dead in. My breathing grows labored. Shit, is Ed here? Is he back there, waiting with Rowan to finish off the job of killing me, silencing me, like he’s always wanted to?
Is my life about to end?
More importantly, will he let me have a last meal before he offs me?
The place probably serves flavorless coin-sized pieces of lobster, and as far as last meals go, I’d rather have a steaming plate of menudo, mole, or my mom’s enchiladas. Guess we can’t all get what we want.
While I’m mentally bracing myself for the inevitable, the woman leads me off to a private section of the restaurant, pulling aside a plush curtain to reveal a dimly lit space, rose petals, and candles, and sitting at the table...
My eyes widen, and I nearly choke on my own spit.
Rowan’s smirk is wide and taunting. The mischief in his eyes shines in the candlelight.
“Please, have a seat, Ms. Ortega. Your waiter will be here momentarily.”
Then the woman is gone.
And I’m alone with Rowan.
Twenty
Rowan
She’s cute when she’s stunned to silence. She’s cute regardless, but the look of utter shock as she takes in the seven o’clock reservations I had set up for the both of us is priceless. My twitching fingers calm, and I smooth my palms down my thighs.
