Page 71 of You Saw the Best In Me

“I like it a little sweet,” I lick the spoon and wink at him, taking another chance to rile him up.

“Come on, you little temptress, I’ll walk you to your car,” he motions for me to step ahead, and I catch him biting his lip out of the corner of my eye.

I lock my fingers into his, snuggling up to his chest while we walk, and he strokes my hand with his thumb.

He does a five-point safety check on my car before allowing me to get close, waving me over when he deems it safe.

I climb into the driver’s seat, dreading the fact that my reign as a passenger princess has come to an end.

“Text me as soon as you get there, okay? I’m going to worry about that pretty face until I have you back in my arms this afternoon,” he bends down to kiss me, and I pull away before we get too into it.

“I will. I promise, Mav,” I breathe, slowly opening my eyes and nearly drowning in his.

Those emerald green specs sparkling in the morning sunlight should be criminal.

He nods, watching me pull away, and the police officer waves at me as I pass him.

It’s been a day, and Asher hasn’t come around. The cops can’t sit outside our building forever, though, and I fear that’s exactly what he’s waiting for.

Despite all he’s put me through and the stupid shit he does, I don’t think he’ll try anything on me while I’m at work. A public place with strangers for witnesses isn’t his style.

When I get to the salon, there’s a new face at the station next to mine, and I look to Hannah for any clues.

“Hi, I’m Reilly!” the red-haired woman smiles, waving while she organizes her things.

“Karina. Nice to meet you,” I say, placing my purse and coffee down before looking for Alivia.

I text Maverick that I made it in one piece and go about my mission.

Eva shoots me a dirty look, pissed off that I called in two days in a row, I assume, but I just flash her a smile. Kill ‘em with kindness.

Finally, I find Alivia in her office, tapping lightly on the door before entering.

“Karina, come in. What can I do for you?” she asks, not looking up from her computer.

“I wanted to apologize for the last few days. I was … am dealing with an emergency. I would never bail on my shifts for no reason, and I hope to make it up to you and the other ladies,” I scramble, tripping over my words.

She finally glances in my direction and offers me a sympathetic smile.

“We’ve all been there. I hope whatever it is resolved itself?” she says flatly, almost like a warning rather than a question.

I shift in my seat, unsure of how to answer that. Can she fire me for having a stalker who has openly threatened my life?

Do I even bother explaining my situation to her, or do I thank my lucky stars she didn’t fire me the second I walked in here?

I opt to tell the truth, hoping she can at least acknowledge that I wasn’t out partying or avoiding my clients.

“I had to file a police report. I’m being stalked, and it got scary. It hasn’t been resolved yet, but the cops are looking for him. I’d appreciate it if we could keep this between us?” I spill my guts, hoping to connect with her on some level.

She nods while I talk, seemingly taking in everything I say.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. It sounds awful. Yes, this will stay between us. I’d hate to have your personal life brought into the salon,” she sneers, the fake concern melting off her face.

I thank her for her discretion and head back to my station. That woman is hard to read, and I’m focusing on mending fences with my co-workers.

I check the books to keep myself busy, but this downtime has me going wild.

Only two customers have come in this morning, neither of them mine.