Eliana
I tossed and turned in bed last night, and now I feel like shit. Looking in the mirror, I realize I look as bad as I feel. My eyes are dark-rimmed, my cheeks red and puffy. My mind is racing with paranoid thoughts that I’m being watched. I’m no fool and wouldn’t put anything past my family. I knew my father would never let me go without some form of security. He didn’t appreciate me defying him, nor my refusing to marry Ethan, but he eventually agreed to let me go on two conditions: that I reconsider the arrangement with Ethan, and that I agree to a having a bodyguard. I caved on the latter, but on my terms. The bodyguard is not allowed to live in my apartment or shadow me. He is to keep an appropriate distance from me, and in return, I will allow him to guard me. I didn’t think he’d rent the apartment right next to me though.
After a shower and food, I don’t feel any better. My chest burns, and I close my eyes while I take a few calming breaths. I will not let my family mess this up for me.
My phone rings, and I smile at the display. “Hey, beautiful,” Casey’s cheerful voice on the other end immediately makes me feel better.
“Hey, babe. You didn’t have to get up this early,” I tell her.
“And miss your first day, not happening. How’re you feeling? You sounded bummed last night.”
“A bit anxious, but much better, I’m trying to focus on all the positives,” I sigh.
“Have you seen him again?”
“Braxton?” I ask.
“Yeah, who else?”
“Thankfully not, and I hope it stays that way. Wishful thinking, I know. God, I wish you were here.”
“I know, babe, but I promise to drive down this weekend, and we can explore the city together. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” It really does. I can’t wait to see her friendly face. “I do have to get going if I’m going to avoid a repeat of the last time. I promise to text around lunchtime.”
“Looking forward to it. Good luck, El, you’ve got this.”
I wish I had as much faith in myself as Casey does in me. I guess that is why everyone needs a best friend, someone to see the best parts of you, parts you may not even know exist.
I exit my apartment and my heart nearly stops. “Jesus! Fuck, you scared me.”
Braxton leans against his doorframe, his lips tugging up in a lopsided grin. “Jumpy are we, princess?”
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss. “And no, I’m not jumpy. I’m just not used to being stalked.”
He shrugs. “Hardly stalking when you’re aware of it.” He follows me down the hallway. I’m in a hurry, and I look like a hot mess beside him as he practically strolls alongside my hurried gait.
“Distance. Remember?” I stop, he does the same, then motions for me to proceed. I take the stairs and gather myself in the building’s foyer before stepping out into the cool morning. I try to ignore the fact that I have a tail, focusing on getting to CJJ in one piece.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I continue to walk briskly through the crowd of early risers presumably making their way to work. I place my hand on my handbag which is slung across me to ground myself, a reminder that I am where I want to be.
I stop in front of CJJ’s building, safely out of the walkway, and watch as Braxton makes his way to a Starbucks across the street. I breathe a sigh of relief and enter the building.
The clock on the wall displays 8:00 a.m., yet Kiara is not at her desk. I head in the direction I did last time I was here, and head to the tenth floor. The elevator opens to the familiar light and airy space with floor-to-ceiling windows all around and plush, beige carpet. The décor is modern and stylish, with plenty of color, just the way I remember it. A woman I haven’t met sits the front desk, and she looks up, beaming as I approach.
“You must be Eliana Hernandez. It’s an absolute pleasure.” She stands and rounds the desk. “I’m Taylor. Petra and Catherine had to fly out to New York and asked that I get you settled in. They’ll be back tomorrow.”
“It’s great to meet you, Taylor,” I offer her a hand.
“Just Tay,” she says cheerfully. “Now, let me show you to your office.” I let her lead the way, noting that she is a ball of energy. I like that.
She waves her hands around us. “Nobody gets here before nine, so you’re welcome to do the same.” She stops in front of a door, and I grin when she opens it. She looks back at me. “Like it?”
“It’s great.” I step into the small office. A laptop bag sits on the oak desk next to some stationary and a file folder. Matching bookcases line three of the walls, and the fourth wall behind the desk is solid glass.
“The adjoining door leads to the waiting area between your and Petra’s offices. You’ll meet Marsha, she’s Petra’s personal assistant. You’ll love her.”
I walk around the space, setting my handbag down on the desk.
