“I’m assuming you need something since that’sthe only reason I ever hear from Steve. What is it?” His voice oozed annoyance, which wasn’t surprising if he thought I was anything like my dad.
“Right, I need a profile on someone. My girlfriend, actually. I think someone might be following her. I want to know if there’s a reason why they might be.” The lying part of my brain was working full speed. “We just started dating so we are still getting to know each other, but I need to know if she’s in danger.”
“All right. Is Daddy paying?” he asked.
“No, I’ll be paying.” That was more satisfying to say than I thought it would be.
“You do know how much I cost, right, kid?” he said coolly. “I’m not cheap since I’m the best PI in the country. I only do work for those that can pay a fair price for the quality of my services.”
“Money isn’t an issue. Are you available for the job or not?” I retorted.
He chuckled. “Yeah, kid. If you have the money, I’m available. I take half up front and the rest when the job is done. What’s her name, address, and business address if you have it?”
I rattled off the info to him and stopped short when I realized I’d forgotten to enter Raven’s office address into the spreadsheet, and I couldn’t remember the exact building number. “Hang on, let me get it.”
I pulled up Google on my computer and typed ‘Lovelace Financial’ into the search bar. I hit enter and glanced to the right side of the page where the business information was listed. I read the suite number and gave Rick the other information he needed.
“How long do these typically take?” I asked.
“Depends on the other jobs I have going. I have quite a fewright now and some that are high profile. It might take thirty days, but could be sooner. I’ll send it over when I can. Have a good one, kid.”
The line went dead before I could say anything. I tapped my fingers on the desk, annoyance flaring. It made sense he was an asshole. A nice person wouldn’t be able to put up with Dad’s shit.
Moving to close out of the webpage, my eyes snagged on the search result below the link to Raven’s business website. Reminded of the idea I had thought of before, I decided to set the plan in motion. Especially since she knew who I was. My cock stiffened at the thoughts playing through my mind. I had a hunch my idea would be the perfect scenario to trap my little sable fox.
But the first thing I needed to do was to talk to her. The scenarios in my mind were going to full send, so I needed to check in to see how she was feeling. She suspected Zander and I were one and the same, so let’s fucking talk about it. I would wait until the afternoon, though. She was probably busy at work, and I didn’t want to take her away from that. In the meantime, I would plot schemes.
At five p.m., once I returned home, I sent a text from the burner number. “Let’s talk. Phone call tonight?”
I set the phone on the couch beside me after I made sure the ringer volume was as loud as it would go.The Dark Knightplayed on the TV, and I watched it without paying attention, my mind racing faster than a Formula One car. After an eternity, the phone beeped. I took a deep breath and snatched it off the cushion.
“All right. What time?” was all the text said.
I didn’t know how to take that, but I typed a reply. “Whatever works best for you.” I refrained from calling her ‘baby’ even though it was almost a habit at that point.
“I have to work late tonight, so maybe seven? I can talk before I leave the office.”
Good. I hoped that also meant she was in the middle of something complicated and had to work late tomorrow, too, even though it was Friday.
“That works.” I wanted to add so much more, but I had to be patient.
The only response I got was a like to my last message. Now I just had to keep myself busy for two hours since I already got all the errands I needed to run out of the way this afternoon.
I stared at the TV a while longer before going to the kitchen to make some kind of dinner. Taking time with the preparations, I paid special attention to the knife cuts on the chicken. When I was twelve I’d grown tired of my sitter always ordering take out with the money my parents left her so one day I asked if we could make something ourselves. All the kids at school talked about how their parents or grandparents made meals at home and I wondered what that would be like.
My sitter was a woman in her late fifties who only watched kids in her spare time. She became acquainted with my parents through her rich husband. They hired her when I was a baby, and she was essentially the only mother I had when I was a kid until she passed away when I was fifteen. Cooking wasn’t her favorite thing to do, but three years was enough for her to teach me everything she knew. I taught myself the rest.
A pang of grief shot through my chest. I hadn’t thought of Sylvia for a long time, but I still missed her. She was the only person aside from my uncle who had anything somewhat nice to say to me. The chicken sizzled when I dropped it into a skillet to sear then grabbed a pot to boil the pasta in. Once the chicken was done, I added the ingredients for a cream sauce to the pan to deglaze. When I sat down to eat at the table, it was six-fifteen.
After I ate I cleaned the kitchen and settled back on the couch since it was the most comfortable place I had in the house besides my bed. It would be a terrible idea to talk to Raven in bed so the couch was the next best option.
The minutes ticked by until the clock on my phone read three minutes past seven. I didn’t want to seem overly eager so I didn’t call at seven on the nose. Taking a deep breath and pushing my nerves down, I channeled Zander. I picked up my phone and called her from my actual number, the same one she called when she needed to talk to the real me.
Ryan Mitchell.
Chapter Fifteen
Raven
