I rubbed my hand over my face. “I can’t today, Mom. Wait, why aren’t you cooking? It’s Sunday. You always make Dad meatloaf on Sunday.”
Silence stretched over the line before she finally answered. “My legs aren’t so great today. I don’t think I can stand in the kitchen for too long,” she admitted, but quickly changed the subject before I could inquire further. “But I’m fine! I just wanted to see you. I thought we could have a nice little outing and I could bring your dad something home. He’s tinkering in the garage today, anyway.”
Guilt settled in my chest. I wanted to see Mom, but I had work to do this afternoon, aside from my shit mood. I sighed and shifted to hold the phone with my shoulder. “I wish I could, but with the interviews I have this week, I have to try to work ahead today. My business hours are shot almost every day.”
I hadn’t told her I scheduled interviews, and her tone perked up when she spoke. “Did you get a lot of applicants?” she asked.
“Yeah, the job market must not be great right now. It’s just a receptionist position, but I got a hundred resumes.” I sat down on a stool at the island. “I’m thankful I have Joanne to help. There’s no way I could have gotten through them all without her. We narrowed it down, and she scheduled interviews this week.”
“That’s great! I know how important it is to find a good fit. Keep me updated on how they go, okay?”
“All right, I will,” I agreed. “I’m going for a run. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Raven?” Mom asked before I hung up.
“Yeah?”
She drew in a breath. “Is everything else okay? You seem frustrated.”
Leave it to Mom to be hyper in tune with me, even through the phone. I sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine, just have some stuff going on.”
Mom’s voice turned questioning. “Stuff? You would tell me if there was trouble again, right?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I would tell you if it was.” I actually wouldn’t tell her if some real shit was happening so she wouldn’t worry.
I still hadn’t mentioned the odd feelings I was getting, or the encounters in the garage. I’m glad I hadn’t, now that I was certain they were tied to Ryan. It made sense it was him, so I wasn’t worried about it anymore.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll let you go. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.” I hung up the phone and took a long gulp of water. I stored my phone back in the pocket of my shorts and left the apartment. The elevator ride down to the first floor was slow. It seemed like the doors stopped on every level, which only added to my annoyance. Finally, I walked out into the midday air, thankful it wasn’t too chilly, and jogged down the street.
I hoped he was watching. I hoped he saw me in my tight clothes and salivated at the sight. I knew he followed me. Of course, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but I was convinced. No matter how hard I had tried to lose him the other night, he was there for what seemed like hours. Finally, his lights had disappeared from behind me. I went home and immediately texted him when I got there that his little trick was funny. He didn’t text back so I texted again yesterday morning and asked what game he was playing.
It was naive to text him, and I already knew exactly what he was doing. He bested me this time after my impulsivemessages and I could hear the smirk in his voice when he ignored me. I was acting like a lovesick puppy, but after that performance how could I not? It was the best sex I’d ever had, and he only got me off with his voice and hand. Definitely the most erotic situation I’d ever been in.
I turned the corner and ran smack dab into a mountain of a man, his arms reaching out to steady me.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I sputtered. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
I glanced up at the man’s face, and my breath caught. His blue eyes shone in the sunlight, and his dusty blonde hair was neatly styled. He looked to be in his fifties. Where had I seen this handsome stranger before? He was wearing a button-down shirt and slacks and was very put together for a Sunday, unless he was a churchgoer. Somehow, I knew that wasn’t the case.
He dropped his hands to his sides and slid them into his pockets. “Oh, it’s quite all right, ma’am.” His gaze flicked down over my body, and I felt very exposed. “You should be more careful. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”
My skin crawled at his words. They felt threatening, like he would delight in my pain. “Thanks.” I dropped my gaze and skirted around his large body, noticing his expensive Gucci loafers. I stole a glance behind me as I picked up my pace. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was watching me, his whole body turned in my direction as he stood unmoving on the sidewalk.
I darted down the next street I came to, escaping the stranger’s intense stare. My skin prickled at the thought of him. Shaking my head, I looped back around to my apartment a different way than I had come, not wanting to chance running into the guy again. Once I got home, I locked the knob and turned the deadbolt in place for my peace of mind.
After five hours in my home office, I rubbed my tired eyes and pushed back from my desk after powering down my desktop. Padding to the kitchen in search of something to eat before bed, I settled on baking a chicken breast and vegetables on a sheet pan. I wasn’t hungry, but I had to eat something.
I wasn’t the cook Mom was. She taught me the basics, but I couldn’t do much else. Despite her being the best around, I had never learned her techniques and recipes. I wanted to, but I was too engulfed in doing well in school when I was a teenager. Then shit happened, and my focus shifted to my career after.
The timer on the oven sounded, and I pulled out the food, placing the hot pan on the stove top. I plated and dined quickly at the island. As I was cleaning up, I thought back to Ryan in my office. Heat crept up my body at the thought of his mouth on mine, and I hurried to finish loading the dishwasher. I walked into the primary bath and turned on the waterproof speaker sitting in the corner of the tiled shower. Opening the subscription app, I clicked on the first audio of Zander’s that I came across. In the shower, I let the hot water run over my body like Ryan’s voice ran through my soul.
“Joanne,for fuck’s sake, how many more?” I asked on Thursday morning after the last candidate I interviewed stepped out of the suite into the hallway.
She scanned her computer. “You have one early this afternoon, and then one at four forty-five. Two more tomorrow and that's it for this round.”
I groaned, resting my palms on the side of the grand reception desk. “Wait, four forty-five? That’s an odd time. What’s up with that?”
