Chapter Nineteen
As much as I hadn’t wanted to talk to my sister quite yet, I kept my promise to Detective Cordova and went straight to her house as soon as I left the coffee shop. After she finished berating me for driving when I wasn’t supposed to be, she let me talk and then proceeded to have a meltdown. The one benefit of telling her about the stalker was she forgot about our earlier argument and went into full-on big sister mode. She refused to let me leave until it was time to go pick up the boys from school, and even then, forced me into staying there until Roman made it home from work. While I appreciated her smothering concern, it left Roman more than a little confused.
“Are you not feeling up to going out tonight?” he asked after showing up at Lydia’s house. I’d texted him as soon as I saw his car pull into his driveway to let him know where I was and that he’d have to come rescue me.
I shook my head. “No, I definitely want to go out tonight. I just…” Where did I even start to explain this?
“Did you forget?” Roman asked.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, laughing. “There’s no way I forgot about our first official date. Something came up and…I’ll explain over dinner. It’ll be easier that way.”
He still seemed plenty confused, but shrugged. “If we want to make our reservations, we should head back to the house so you can get ready.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said with probably a little too much emphasis. Roman gave me another funny look, but I dodged any other questions by saying goodbye to Sammy and all but shoving him into his father’s arms as a means of distraction.
It worked on Roman, but not so much with Lydia. “Are you leaving?” she demanded. The hint of panic in her voice caught both Roman’s and James’s attention. James had just gotten home as well and hadn’t been filled in, so to the men in the room, it looked like Lydia was really overreacting.
“Yes,” I said firmly as she strangled me with a hug. “I need to go get ready for dinner and pack a bag for Sammy since you wouldn’t let me do it earlier.”
Lydia’s gaze darted between me and Roman. I’d asked her to keep her mouth shut until I could explain things to Roman. That might have been asking too much. “Well, uh, the boys were just, um, having too much fun.”
I could see the questions and logical arguments running through Roman’s mind, but he seemed uncertain on where he stood with my sister after the blowup earlier in the week and closed his mouth without saying anything about it. Instead, he asked, “You’re sure you don’t mind Sammy spending the night tonight?”
“Not at all,” Lydia said a little too cheerily. She shoved a dress she’d insisted on loaning me into my arms with a smile that was stretched too thin. “You two have fun.”
When Roman looked to James for help, my brother-in-law held up his hands in defeat. I could have just explained everything right then, but I knew it would mean sitting around at Lydia’s for a few hours, missing our dinner reservation, and ruining everyone’s mood. I just wanted a few hours with Roman first. Was that really so much to ask?
“I’ll have James drive your car back to Roman’s,” Lydia said, then immediately bit her lip. Wheels were turning and she backtracked almost immediately as I was sure possibilities of my car being spotted and causing trouble dashed through her mind. “Or maybe not. You’re not supposed to be driving anyway. I’ll have him put it in the garage. So you’re not tempted.”
That’s was it. I pushed Roman out the door and started towing him down the walk one-handedly. Roman allowed me to drag him along, but still asked, “Did I do something to offend her again?”
“Nope, this one’s all on me,” I said, “but I really don’t want to miss our reservations because I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week, so even though I know it’s probably going to drive you nuts, can you wait for me to explain until dinner? I’m never going to be ready in time otherwise.”
Roman hesitated for a moment and then sighed. “Sure, I guess. I’ve been looking forward to tonight, too.”
We reached the front door of his house a few minutes later and I darted inside and toward the back of the house. A week ago I didn’t have a clue where anything was when Evan threw up and I needed cleaning supplies. Now I raced into Roman’s bedroom, tugging off my sweatshirt and shoes as I went and dashed into the bathroom. I paused in the middle of undressing as I caught sight of all my bathroom stuff mingled with his. I told myself it didn’t mean he wouldn’t bail when I told him everything, and went back to tearing my clothes off.
I washed and shaved my legs in record time, despite the plastic covered splint, and was wrapping a towel around my body when a knock sounded on the bathroom door. I clutched the towel around my otherwise naked body and tried not to panic. Had Lydia burst at the seams and told him everything and now he wanted to call things off?
“We need to leave in twenty minutes to make the reservation. Will that be enough time?” Roman asked.
Relief flooded me. “Yeah,” I squeaked, “I’ll be ready.”
His footsteps were soft against the carpet, but I waited until they disappeared before breathing again. Then I sprang into action. Twenty minutes was not enough time, but I was determined. No time for careful blow drying meant I’d have to go with damp beachy waves. I’d rather skimp on hair than makeup.
I knew I didn’t look my best like I had pictured a dozen times that week, but I looked at myself in the mirror and decided it would have to do. Still partially wet, the waves cascading down my back didn’t look half bad, and even though my makeup was simple, it did the job of highlighting my good features and downplaying the ones I was less fond of drawing attention to. Doffing the towel, I shimmied into Lydia’s dress and burst out of the bathroom in search of shoes.
Halfway through a turn to scan the room, I realized I didn’t have any dress shoes. I hadn’t been thinking far enough ahead to get them from my apartment and Lydia hadn’t sent any along with the dress. I stared down at my feet and considered my options. All I had with me were sandals and tennis shoes. Neither would look great, but leather sandals would certainly be preferable to tennis shoes paired with a merlot colored sheath dress.
Another knock, this time on the bedroom door, startled me into a spastic jump-turn that left me facing a shoe-bearing Roman. “Uh, I take it Lydia was right about you not having shoes for the dress?” He held out the pair of black kitten heels. “She just brought them over and picked up Sammy’s overnight bag.”
“Oh, great. Thank you. Yes, I definitely needed some shoes.” I tried to pretend my heart wasn’t racing as Roman walked over, or at least that it was racing because of him and not panic that he’d reach his limit with me by the end of the night.
Roman handed me the shoes when he reached me, but before I could put them on, his arms were around my waist and he was kissing my neck. “I told you that you didn’t bring enough stuff when we went to your apartment the other day.”
I leaned my head to the side, suddenly not caring if we were late. It was difficult to care about anything with Roman’s lips on my skin. “I’m only…supposed to be staying…for a few days.” I stumbled through my answer, my thoughts scattering as Roman’s mouth moved behind my ear.
Roman’s only response was a muffled, “Mmm.”
Fear from half a dozen different sources pulled me out of his grip. I was breathing hard, and so was he, but I couldn’t let it go any further. Not until after we talked and he knew what he was getting into, for real this time. The playfully disappointed look on his face was mingled with just a hint of confusion and maybe even hurt, but he let me get my shoes on and then took my hand with a sigh.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded, not trusting my voice right now. It was a small miracle that we made it to his car without incident. I half expected Lydia to jump out of a shadow. A small measure of relief allowed me to relax once we were both in the car and backing out of the garage, but I knew Roman could still feel the tension in my body as he
held my hand. Without Lydia’s less than subtle performance earlier, he might have just mistaken it for nerves. Even with as much time as we’d spent together over the past few weeks, it was the first time we had managed a night out without Sammy. Normally, that would be enough to make me panic all on its own. Now, it was at the bottom of my list of concerns.
The ride to the restaurant was quiet, so stepping into the hushed murmuring of polite conversation at a nice restaurant felt a little loud. Considering the fact that I’d only been to a restaurant this nice a few times in my life, it should have been unnerving. I couldn’t really pack any more anxiety about tonight into my body, so I found it strangely comforting instead. Roman smiled when he felt me relax and pull in closer to him.
We were seated a few minutes later, and Roman seemed content to leave any big discussions until dessert, so I took in a calming breath and smiled. That was right about when things went south.
“Roman,” an older, smiling woman said cheerfully as she sauntered up to the table. A tall, well-dressed man about her same age stopped next to her, and while I didn’t recognize the man at all, the woman seemed familiar for some reason.
“Mrs. Westerfield,” Roman said as he stood to greet her with a polite kiss on the cheek. “George, it’s nice to see you as well,” he said as he shook the man’s hand. “Please, let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Greenly Kendrick.”
It was all a little more formal than I was used to, but I followed Roman’s example and stood. Mr. Westerfield was closest to me, so I shook his hand first, then extended my hand to Mrs. Westerfield as well. She took my hand and shook it politely, but her eyes narrowed as she considered me. “Didn’t I see you earlier today?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” My gaze darted to Roman nervously before focusing on her again. “I was at my sister’s most of the day.”
She let go of my hand before it got weird, but kept staring at me. “Yes, I’m positive I saw you. At the Corner Coffee Shop. This morning.”
Taking another breath was like swimming through sand. “Oh.”
“That’s it,” she said triumphantly. Then her eyes narrowed even more. “Yes, I saw you there, with a black man. Sitting right near the door. He was,” she paused, her expression turning hostile, “holding your hand, if I remember right.”
I was pretty sure that if I fainted, no one would catch me. Mr. Westerfield didn’t look that spritely. His wife would let me drop even if she’d been within reach. Roman was not only too far away, the stricken look on his face said that even if he wanted to catch me, he probably wouldn’t have been able to react fast enough. My bet was he wouldn’t feel the inclination even if he was in full control of his faculties.
“Darling, why don’t we let them enjoy their dinner. The waitress is waiting to show us to our table.” Mr. Westerfield seemed unfazed. Maybe his wife blurted out things like that all the time, and he simply swept her off as he tried not to dirty his shoes in the aftermath.
Feeling like my legs might give out on me, I used my good hand to grip the edge of the table and lower myself back to my seat. Roman must have sat back down, too, because when he spoke, his voice seemed level with me.
“I just introduced you as my girlfriend,” he said slowly. “I don’t understand…what she said, is it true?”
I didn’t look at him. “Not in the way she said it.” I drew in a steadying breath, ready to explain, but Roman jumped in before I could.
“This is why Lydia was acting so weird, right? She knows about…whatever this is. Are you seeing someone else?”
The hurt in his voice was excruciating and I rushed to explain. “No, of course not, Roman. It wasn’t like that. The man I met, he’s a cop, and…”
“A cop?” Roman demanded, more confused than ever. “Why were you having coffee with a cop? Why was he holding your hand?”
“Because I was crying? Or maybe because I tried to leave and he stopped me. I can’t remember,” I said quickly. “He was just being nice, trying to calm me down.”
Roman shook his head. “What?”
“There’s a guy,” I said, “not the cop, but a different guy, who’s been leaving weird notes and snooping around my building. I didn’t want to think it was a big deal, but the neighbors started complaining and someone called the cops and Detective Cordova needed to talk to me but I didn’t want you to know about it so I drove even though I’m not supposed to and met him at the coffee shop this morning so he could ask me some questions and I kind of lost it while I was there.”
Roman’s eyebrows rose slowly as he took in my rambling. I didn’t breathe or move as he processed everything. “Why,” he said very precisely, “didn’t you want me to know about all of this?”
A little surprised that was his first question, I answered it honestly. “Because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.” When his eyes closed, my heart sank. “I mean, I get it, I do. You’ve already got Jen to deal with, and my sister’s been a nutcase since we started dating…hanging out…whatever, and I’m just one disaster after another, and now I’ve got a stalker to top things off.”
“Wait,” Roman demanded, “stalker? Are you serious? I thought you said some guy was creeping around your building and leaving notes. You didn’t say he was targeting you specifically.” His eyes widened. “Is that what you’re saying? This guy is stalking you?”
The intensity of his focus on me made me shrink down in my chair. “Yeah, at least, Detective Cordova thought so, and the notes, they were, um, to me. I don’t think anyone else has gotten a note.”
Roman dragged both hands down his face. “What did they say? Were they threatening? Romantic?”
“Um, not super threatening, but definitely not love notes or anything like that.” I imagined there was this warning sign flashing in his head, right next to a crazy-o-meter that was nearing the level that indicated running away as fast as possible was the best course of action.
“Greenly,” Roman said, an edge to his voice that startled me, “how could you not tell me about this earlier? You’ve been at my house, alone, the last three days. What if this lunatic had found out where you were?”
My mouth fell open just a little. “I…”
“No wonder Lydia was freaking out when I got there and looked like she didn’t want to let go of you. And why she wanted to park your car in her garage.” He fell back against his seat. “Greenly, this is serious. You can’t just pretend it’s not and hope it will go away.”
“I reported all of it,” I said quietly.
His head shook back and forth slowly. He was quiet for a moment before his expression turned thoughtful, and maybe a little sad. “Is this why you agreed to stay with me longer?”
“No, I mean, a little, but I wanted to stay regardless, I just…things are moving so fast and I felt ridiculous taking over your whole life like that.” The last, last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself at a nice restaurant, on what was supposed to be a beautiful night with just the two of us and no distractions or drama. Regardless of what I wanted, tears welled in my eyes. “If you asked me to move in with you right now, I’d probably say yes even though I know it would be crazy, because I love being with you and Sammy that much, but I can’t bring myself to believe you would actually ask or that you don’t spend half your day wondering how you got wrapped up with this crazy girl who walks around getting food spilled on her and accosted by puppies and hit with baseballs and stalked by lunatics. This has to be that last straw and I didn’t want to lay it on the pile only to see it all fall apart.”
A few diners at nearby tables were casting wary glances in my direction, but I kept my focus trained on Roman. It was hard to kid myself and believe he wouldn’t throw his hands up. I wasn’t sure what to think when the shocked expression he’d been wearing the last few minutes morphed into a slow smile.
“Would you really say yes if I asked you to move in with me?”
My whole train of thought derailed. “What
?”
“Would you…say yes?” When I didn’t answer him, his smile widened. “If I asked you right now to move in with me, would you say yes?”
My lips felt numb. So did my fingers, but numb lips were more of a hindrance to talking. “Are you?”
“Would you say yes?”
“Why would you ask me?” If this was just because of what I’d told him about the stalker, I couldn’t do it. I felt bad enough just staying at his house a few extra days because I was scared to go home.
Reaching across the table, Roman took my hand in his. I couldn’t respond, because I couldn’t really feel my hand anymore. Instead, I stared at his fingers as they brushed back and forth across my skin. Not even his voice could pull my gaze away. “I’ve been considering it all week,” he said. “Lydia will either have a fit or start planning a wedding, I’m not sure which yet, but her reaction isn’t nearly as much of a concern as yours is, Greenly.” He squeezed my hand, somehow drawing my gaze up to his with that simple touch. “I’m not asking because your apartment doesn’t seem safe. I’m asking because I’m in love with you, my son loves you, and I can’t stand the thought of you going back home.”
My eyes had to be the size of saucers by now. “Are you serious? You’re really asking me to move in with you?”
“Yes.” That was it. Simple. Honest. Completely insane.
Regardless of the fact that I knew we were moving too fast, I licked my lips, swallowed my doubts, and said, “Okay. Yes.”
Roman’s smile grew, and I was pretty sure I was smiling as well. In all honesty, it felt like I’d had a few too many glasses of wine and my head might float off my body. There was a good chance I was grinning like a complete idiot.
“How are we both doing tonight?” a waitress who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere asked. There was a lilt to her voice that suggested she’d been waiting off to the side for a chance to approach, maybe overhearing some of our conversation, and she really was asking if we were both okay.
“We’re doing just fine,” Roman said easily. “Thank you for asking.”
The woman let out a held breath and launched into the night’s specials and asked for our drink orders. As stunned as I still was, I was relieved when Roman took the lead and ordered for me. At this rate, dinner was going to be over before I got my head back together. I had just agreed to move in with Roman Carpenter. Lydia was going to freak out. Or maybe Roman was right and she would be delighted. It was hard to tell with her lately.
“Greenly,” Roman said in a way that made it clear he’d already said my name a few times with no result. I look up and focused. “Your phone is ringing. Do you need to answer it?”
I’d forgotten I’d even set it on the table just in case Lydia called. It wasn’t my sister, though. I slid my finger across the screen slowly and pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Greenly, this is Detective Cordova. Where are you right now?”
I knew without him saying that he wasn’t just checking in. “Out to dinner with Roman. Why?”
“I’m at your apartment.”
“What? Why?”
“Your neighbors called because they were hearing a lot of noise and they knew you weren’t home,” he explained.
“What happened?” Roman reached across the table and took my hand, anxiety making his grip tight.
The detective hesitated. “He broke into your apartment, Greenly. I’m not quite sure why, yet, because it doesn’t look like anything’s been taken, but it’s another escalation.”
“We can be there in twenty minutes,” I said. I started to stand, but his words brought me to a full stop.
“He’s still in the area, Greenly.” He gave me a minute to take that in. “We had uniforms patrolling the area, so they responded quickly to the call, but he took off as soon as he saw the patrol car. They went after him on foot, but he slipped away. We think he’s still on foot, though, and could circle back if he thinks things have calmed down.”
“But, how will you know if he took something if I don’t come? That could be a clue, right? Knowing if he took something and what it was?” It seemed logical to me, but I wasn’t sure how well my brain was working.
Detective Cordova took a deep breath. “You’re right, but I want the scene secure before you show up. Stay with Roman, eat dinner, then call me. I’ll let you know if it’s safe, then you can come get what you need and let me know if you think anything is missing, okay?”
I nodded, then realized I needed to actually say something. “Okay.”
I must not have sounded convincing, because he asked to speak with Roman as well. A few minutes later, Roman handed my phone back to me and took my hand again. His voice was steady as he said, “Don’t worry, Greenly. Everything’s going to be all right.”
The Crazy Girl's Handbook Page 23
