“You’re lucky my boyfriend is your boyfriend’s best friend.”
I struggle not to flinch. I don’t need the reminder. We pass the mark where we usually speed up for a mile, so I push us to where neither of us can speak comfortably. There’s a curve in the Main River that allows me to look back at the trail we’re running in Grüneburgpark.
That man has to be Jorge.
There’s a guy with the right height and build to be Jorge, but the hat with a brim makes it impossible for me to tell. His head’s lowered against a gust of brisk spring air. Germany forgets spring is supposed to start in March, so it’s only in the mid-fifties today. After my time in the States, I think in Fahrenheit and Celsius—which confuses the hell out of my family. I have a beanie on to cover my ears since the wind’s cold.
This is a large and well-known park and only about a ten minute jog from some of Frankfurt’s best hotels. I suppose it’s not a stretch for Jorge to come running here. However, I’m disconcerted that he was at the same restaurant as Bastian and me. I still suspect he was at our grocery store—at least ten miles from any hotel he’d stay at. Somewhere luxurious I’m sure. Why’s he still in town? I haven’t seen him or heard from him in nearly a week.
The man I spotted fades into what must be a club since there’re about fifteen people running together in a pack. I can’t see him or even the other runners as the trail straightens again.
“You trying to set a personal record?”
Heidi’s practically panting as we get to the next marker where we slow to a more comfortable pace. She’s faster and has more endurance than I do. She runs slower than usual when we go out together. If she felt like that was a hard pace, I must have been practically flying.
“Just trying to keep up with you,Schwesterlein.” Little sister.
“I like it better when you run likeeine Greisin.”
“I’m only two years older than you. I’m not an old lady!”
“Your creaking toes would say differently.”
I elbow my sister as we continue to run, and she pretends to stagger sideways before giving me a playful shove. We enjoy each other’s company more than we did as kids. We bickered but never got into real arguments—our parents would never allow it. We had little in common until we both went away to college. I’d learned to live with my homesickness in Britain, so Heidi would call me whenever she wanted to leave the States and go back to Germany her first year. We got closer then.
“Do you and Friedrich want to come over for dinner tonight?”
I check my watch. With the pace I just set, I might have time to treat myself to a pastry on the way to work.
“I’ll ask, but I don’t see why not.”
We reach our cars parked side-by-side. A quick hug, and we’re both off. As I pull out of the lot, I can no longer doubt the man is Jorge. He’s looking right at me.
He’s stalking me.
I didn’t see his face at the grocery store, yet he let me see him while I was running with my sister. Coincidence could explain the park, just like dinner. But I’ve sensed him everywhere.
I just haven’t seen him again.
I went out with some girlfriends last night, and I’m certain he was at the restaurant and then the bar. I felt like someone was watching throughout dinner. I tried to inconspicuously look around, but I didn’t spot him. I just knew.
I tried to walk past him at the bar as though I was on the way to the restroom, but he blended into the crowd. I don’t get how since he’s a big guy—tall with massively wide shoulders. He could’ve been an American football player in college for how muscular he is. He may have been nice to look at but knowing he’s watching me is creeping me out.
“Anne, we can wait for your rideshare to show up.”
I’m out on the town for a second night in a row—such a wild life I lead. My friend Marie is the mother hen in the group. She always tells us not to walk alone at night, to always share our location when we get rides, and not to drink anything you didn’t see the bartender open. As though, at our ages, any of us have forgotten. But we know why she’s that way. We visited her in the hospital after she was attacked and assaulted in college.
“Thanks, but I’m all right. The sidewalk is still busy, and it’s well lit. I’ll wait until they pull up directly in front of me.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am, Marta.”
Marta’s Marie’s sister, so she’s just as vigilant. She’s the one who called the rest of us and told us what happened. I flew back from the England. It taught me to be far more cautious, so that’s why sensing Jorge around me is freaking me out. I’m pretty certain he came outside when he saw us gathering our coats. He’s lurking somewhere around here.
My friends take off as I jam my hands in my pockets. It’s extra brisk tonight, so I have my chin tucked against the wind. I’m still watching my surroundings, but my head isn’t on a swivel.
Motherfucker. Grrr.
