“Of Kenny?” I scoff. “Of course I’m not jealous.”
“Mandy, how is the meat loaf?” her mom interrupts.
“It’s done, Mom. I took it out.”
“Oh, Mandy, you’re not trying to make that poor man cook. Come to the table, Salinger.”
I grab the oven mitts from Mandy and carry the steaming meat loaf to the dining room.
“Such a dear,” Gale says. “Sit. Have some wine. Everyone, this is wine that Salinger brought. Mandy, where are the nice glasses, the one I got from Macy’s?”
“How’s your lawn dealing with all this rain?” Patrick asks me while I plot the best way to remove Kenny from the face of the earth.
“I’ll take Amy’s wine portion, Mom.” Lauren taps her glass with her fork.
Pepper is seated in a chair wedged between me and Isabella, who has her phone propped up on a water glass. The dog leans over and rests her feet on my lap, eyeing my plate.
Her grandmother is dumping ice into her glass of wine.
“This is fancy wine, Ma—you can’t do that.”
“Salinger,” the old woman slurs at me. “Do you care if I add my own ice cubes?”
I make a conciliatory gesture.
“I am so sorry,” Mandy whispers as she serves up slices of juicy meat loaf. I run my hand briefly up her bare thigh.
Kenny notices. He’s a little too interested.
I resist the urge to flip the table and carry Mandy out of the house.
I’m not exactly sure if I believe her about Kenny. Stalkers are usually someone with easy access to a woman, like a neighbor, coworker, or ex-boyfriend. A switch flips when they feel rejected, thenbam, they’re creeping outside a girl’s window and following them home from work.
If it isn’t Kenny, is it someone from the office? Who else could it be? All Mandy does is go to work, visit her family, and go home.
What I do know is I’m not sorry at all I kept her locked up safe.
The stalker could be anywhere, watching, waiting.
36
SALINGER
“Ithink you deserve something nice after that dinner.” Mandy leans up on her toes to kiss me when we’re back in my quiet penthouse. “Good thing you’re just my overbearing and way-too-involved boss and not actually trying to be my boyfriend.”
“I’d love to take you up on that offer, but I actually do have to work,” I murmur against her mouth, picking her up. I carry her, still kissing, through the penthouse to my study. “The question is are you going to be a good little girl and stay put, or am I going to have to lock you in the tower?”
“I’ll be good.” She grabs my hand. “And ifyoube good and don’t work too late, I’ll let you act out all your deep, dark evil-villain fantasies.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to let me conduct a hostile takeover of Google and corner the cloud-hosting market?”
She slaps me lightly. “You really are thinking about work.”
My laptop is already open on my desk. I log in.
Ever since I learned of Mandy’s stalker problem, I haven’t been getting as much work done as I usually do. It isn’t entirely her fault, I think, remembering with annoyance how much time I’d spent the day before dealing with my runaway little brother.
There are hundreds of unread emails waiting in my inbox. Scanning through them, I land on one from Isaacs wanting to talk. “Off the record. Don’t tell Mandy.”
