“Well, I can’t wait to hear all about how you got there.” She hesitated, and I knew she was thinking about whether or not she was going to push me for information now, or if it was too much, and she should wait until I was back in New York, back at school. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“And he’s really gone?”
“Yes. He left for California.”
“Okay. And you have your phone now?”
“Yes.”
“For good?”
“Yes.”
“Because I’m going to text you, and if I don’t hear back, I’m going to get nervous.”
“And do what?” I asked. “Call the police again?”
“No,” she said. “The FBI. Or Homeland Security.”
I giggled. “I don’t think Homeland Security would be interested.”
She laughed. “You don’t know my powers of persuasion. You’re a national treasure.”
I smiled, missing her so bad my chest hurt. “I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll email you my flight information.”
“See you tomorrow, Em. I can’t wait.”
She clicked off, and I took in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the conversation I’d had with Maddie, but suddenly, I felt exhausted.
I stood up and grabbed a couple of books so I could have them in the room with me just in case – Harry Potter, which I’d never read but always wanted to, and the chick lit book I’d been reading the back of. As I moved through the aisles, I caught sight of that guy Robbie from the wine bar. He was crouched in the political science section, reading the back of a book, his brow furrowed.
He looked up, as if he could sense me looking at him, and he gave me a nod and a wink.
I gave him a quick wave, then hurried up to the cash register, impressed with his selection of books, and wondering if I’d written him off too quickly.
* * *
When I got to the elevator bank in the hotel, the one that would lead me up to the second floor, Robbie was there, waiting for an elevator, too.
Robbie.
“Wow,” he said, as he reached out and pushed the button. “We keep running into each other. Seems like fate.” He winked.
“Or maybe you’re stalking me,” I said playfully, my confidence buoyed after my call with Maddie.
“Maybe you’re stalking me,” he shot back.
“And why would I be doing that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you fell in love with my chocolate dessert.”
“If I wanted that, I could just go back to the wine bar.”
The elevator doors stepped in and he shrugged. “Then I got nothing.” He reached into his bookstore bag and pulled out the book he’d bought, a biography of some obscure political figure from the 1800s that I hadn’t even heard of. “Maybe you wanted to steal my book?”
“Why?” I said. “Do you think I might have trouble sleeping?”
“Touché,” he said and laughed. “What did you buy then? Something scintillating no doubt?”
He grabbed my bag and pulled out the books before I could stop him. “Harry Potter, classic.” He nodded. “And a women’s fiction, no doubt cause of your break-up.”
The doors dinged on the second floor. “This is me,” I said, and stepped out.
Robbie stepped out after me, and for some reason, a shiver of fear slid up my spine.
Stop, I told myself. He probably has a room on this floor, too. It was Liam who’d done this to me. He’d made me suspicious of everyone, made me think that a guy getting off an elevator or asking me for my number in a restaurant was the kind of thing that was out of the ordinary.
And who could blame me after what Liam had done to me, picking me up and throwing me into the back of a van?
“You know there are better ways to get over someone than by reading a book,” Robbie said as we walked down the hall.
“This is my room,” I said as we reached the door. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Did you hear me?”
I was searching through my purse now, fumbling for my key card. “Yes, I heard you.” Where was the damn key? Maddie was always yelling at me to clean out my purse, to not carry so much stuff around with me, and as I groped past bottles of ibuprofen and a half-eaten candy bar, a pack of tissues and a half-used chapstick, I was cursing myself for not listening to her.
My hands tightened on the key card.
“Then what did I say?” Robbie demanded, and his voice was sinister now, his cool rich boy façade completely gone.
“You said there are better ways to get over someone than by reading a book.” My response was automatic, mostly because I was afraid of what he would do to me if I didn’t get the answer right, and he thought that maybe I wasn’t listening to him after all.