“Exactly,” Jack chimes in. “Exactly.”
“It’s like a regift thing,” I say. “She told me to use it as a bookmark. In fact”—I grab my bag and reach inside, removing a book I’ve been working on reading—“there.” I open the cover and slide the letter opener inside. “Now it’s a bookmark. It’s actually a pretty cool bookmark,” I add, giving it an inspection. “I like it.”
“She is a library boss,” Jess says. “I’d guess she knows what makes a good bookmark.”
“Or weapon,” I add. “She said I could stab someone with it as well.”
“When I hear you say that again now,” Jack interjects, “that is a little bizarre.”
“For once, Jack and I agree,” Jess concurs. “She said you could use it as a bookmark or stab someone with it? What the hell kind of boss do you have?”
“She meant for protection,” I assure them both. “Because I walk home. And you two agree more than you realize.”
The door buzzer goes off, promising the food has arrived. More chaos unfolds, and soon we have plates of food in front of us, and we’re discussing my parents. “Your mom cheating on your dad,” Jess says, wrapping fettuccini around her fork. “What a bitch.”
“Jesus, Jess,” Jack murmurs. “That’s her mother.”
“And unless she’s gentle on your ears, we both know how she feels about her mother.”
“She loves her,” he argues.
“And hates her,” Jess counters.
“Another topic please,” I suggest.
“All right then,” Jess obliges. “How about guess your secret admirer?” She points her fork at Jack. “Is it you?”
Jack blinks, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. “What? What are we talking about?” He looks at me. “The dating app?”
“No,” Jess says, “but we’ll get to that, too.”
I reach in my bag and pull out the note, sliding it in front of Jack. “Someone left this on my computer at Caroline’s Wednesday. Then they wrote a note on my coffee cup at Coffee Cats today as well. Two notes.”
“Two different places,” he supplies. “That feels creepy to me.”
My thought exactly,I think.
He looks between us and levels his stare on me. “It’s that damn dating app. I bet someone recognized you from your photo.”
“I find that highly unlikely,” Jess states. “The notes started too close to the time I signed her up for the app.”
“Exactly why it fits,” Jack argues. “It’s the same timeline.”
“Actually, I don’t think that’s true. The window between when I signed her up and when she got the first message is simply too slim.” Sheglances at me. “Have you been through your messages? Is there anything in the messages that reads like the notes you received?”
“Yes, well, I deleted about half because the men were old enough to be my grandfather.”
“Without reading them?” Jack asks.
“Without reading them,” I confirm.
Jess’s lips purse. “You know there is nothing wrong with a hot, rich older man, right?”
I raise a pasta-filled fork to my mouth. “I’m ignoring that statement.”
“What about the other messages?” Jack asks. “Any hints that one might be your note writer?”
“Enough with that,” Jess grumbles. “It’s not someone from the dating app.”
