“What?” I ask.
“Earlier today, I was with my mom, and we were getting gas. We had to go in to pay because the credit card thingie was having an issue. Anyway, I was telling her about our plans tonight, and guess who was standing behind me?Him.”
From the way she says him, we know exactly who she’s talking about. My head whips around to look at Selene, and she nods.
“He must have been there the entire time. I almost collided with him when I turned around from the cash register. He just gave me that look, and I ran out of there.” She puts a hand to her heart. “Then he got on that loud ass motorcycle and drove away. I swear, I almost died when I noticed him. For one so big, he sure is quiet.”
I stare at Cori’s profile. She has her eyes wide. When she stops at a red light, she slowly turns her head and looks at me.
“He’d better not,” I whisper.
“What?” Selene asks, but we don’t answer. “What aren’t you two telling me?”
Cori eyes me, but the light changes, and she drives through the intersection.
“Nothing,” I say.
“You’re lying. Tell me. You two are always leaving me out.”
“Because we can’t trust you,” I remind her.
“Oh my God! That was twelve years ago. When are you two gonna let that go? Just tell me already.”
“Fine!” I snap. I take the next few minutes and tell her everything that’s happened between me and that nutjob since thenight at the club. I have my body turned toward her, and with each word I utter, she gets more horrified.
“Oh my God! No!” she says with a headshake. “That maniac is stalking you?”
“I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but last night he said he doesn’t hurt women, so there’s that, I guess.” I shrug, but his words had rung true. He scared the crap out of us, but saved me from a predator and made sure we got home safe. “I don’t want to think about him tonight,” I announce right as Cori pulls into the restaurant’s parking lot.
Paulene’s serves basic food, but their drinks are strong, and they turn the place into a lounge at ten o’clock. When I get out of the car, I look around the packed parking lot and exhale when I don’t see his garish motorcycle. I imagine that thing everywhere. Last night I had a dream where he followed me around while I walked all over town.
The man obviously has no taste, is uncouth, and lacks social skills. Why else would that monstrosity of a human being harass a woman like me? Of all the nerve. Especially since I was victimized under his watch.
“The fucking audacity,” I mumble while I yank the door open to the restaurant. After giving my name to the hostess, she tells us it will be a few more minutes. I run my hand down my clothes, and Cori gives me a thumbs-up.
My clothes aren’t new—I’m not buying any new clothes for the foreseeable future—but I got a silk press and a mani-pedi this morning.
My jeans are distressed. The front is ripped to shreds, and I have on a tight crop top that leaves my abdomen and belly button exposed. I end the outfit with a pair of nude peep-toe wedges.
Moments later, we’re escorted to a booth near the lounge area. It’s a circular booth, and I slide in first. Cori sits in the middle, and Selene is on the other end.
“Oh,” Cori gets our attention moments later. “I’m so sick of working for that old geezer,” she mumbles. “I’m going to quit and go off on my own. I have the experience and the contacts.” She grins at the last part. She has been complaining about the old lawyer she works for for years. “I’m his best private investigator, and he gave me a one percent raise and the other guy ten percent.”
“Ain’t that his grandson?” Selene asks, and Cori nods.
“I had to train him,” she says in outrage. “Fuck that. I give it another six months, and I’m out. That old bastard will learn the hard way that his grandson is an idiot.”
“What about your fashion business?” I ask. “You can always go to school for it now.”
Cori waves her hand in dismissal, but doesn’t answer, so I drop it. Fashion school is a sore subject for her, so I decide not to press the issue. Besides, she seems to love being a private investigator.
Our server returns, and we order a round of mixed drinks. The restaurant has a special that includes four different liquors, and after the long and exhausting week I’ve had, I need it. I picked up an additional twelve hours on top of my forty, and I need a night of relaxation. Not to mention the bullshit visit from my sister yesterday.
Our drinks come out quickly, and we toast. Selene drinks half of hers in just two sips. We splurge on two different appetizers to share while we decide on entrees.
The atmosphere is light and fun, and the restaurant is packed. There’s only one empty booth left, and that’s the one directly across from us, but I pay that no mind. We order another round of drinks, and Selene orders one, too.
“What?” she asks when I give her the side eye. “Worst case, we take a ride share back to my place. I had a shitty week, too. I had to remove a kid from his home today. I think I cried more than he did,” she says.
