Flint

by Sadie King

  I’ve been in this building on my own before, but tonight the skin on the back of my neck prickles, and I can’t help but feel uneasy.

  I’ve already cashed out for the night, so I quickly fill in the report sheet, grab my cardigan, and head back out front.

  I unlock the door, and the cool night air hits me. It’s quiet around town, being a Monday, and I step out into the street. My heels click on the pavement, and there’s another sound: footsteps behind me.

  I turn quickly with my arms raised and give a yelp of surprise. Flint is standing behind me grinning. “Were you going to hit me?” he says, indicating my raised fists.

  “You scared me,” I say, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

  “I told you I’d watch the restaurant, and I’m going to walk you home.”

  “You could have warned me.”

  “You wanted me to be discreet.”

  “Discreet, not creepy.”

  He laughs, and it’s a good deep belly laugh that echoes around the empty streets. I feel myself relax, because how can you be angry with someone who laughs like that?

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was keeping out of the way like I promised.”

  A cold gust of wind whips down the street, making me shiver.

  “Let’s keep walking. I’m cold.”

  I stalk off, rubbing my hands over my arms, my thin cardigan no match for the chilly breeze.

  “Here, take this,” he says, shimmying out of his coat.

  I try to protest, but he’s already got it draped over my shoulders. It’s warm and smells of his aftershave.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Do you want a lift home?”

  I shake my head. “I like to walk home after work. It clears my head.”

  He nods. “Sounds good to me. I’ll walk with you.”

  “Thank you.” I realize I’m not angry anymore that he’s here. Actually, after the day I’ve had, I’m relieved.

  “How was the rest of your shift?” he asks.

  “You tell me. You were watching.”

  “I was watching the restaurant,” he says. “Not you.”

  I can’t help feeling a little disappointed at that. “And did you see anything interesting?”

  “I made note of a lot of people coming and going. A lot of staff too taking smoke breaks.”

  I frown. “They shouldn’t be smoking out in front of the restaurant.”

  “I was around the back for a while.” He goes thoughtful for a minute. “Is there anyone you work with who could be jealous of your success?”

  I frown. “I don’t think so.”

  “You sound like you’re quite ambitious. Is there anyone else who wanted the job?”

  “Yeah. Alistair applied for it too.”

  “The maître d’?”

  I nod.

  “Was he disappointed that you got it over him?”

  I think for a minute. “Well, yeah, I’m sure he was disappointed, but he’s never said anything about it. Not to me.” I stop and look at him. “You don’t think it was him, do you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, just looking for a motive.”

  We walk on in silence. I’ve worked with Alistair for a long time. I’m sure he wouldn’t do something like this. But he can be aloof sometimes, and how well do I really know him?

  I’m lost in thought for the rest of the way home, and we don’t speak much again until we get to my street.

  “Here I am,” I say, stopping in front of my apartment block.

  We’re face to face, and the only light is from a flickering streetlight. His face is mostly in shadow, but it doesn’t hide the intense way he’s looking at me. It sends shock waves right through me.

  He reaches his arm up, and for a moment I think he’s going to embrace me, but instead he slips his jacket off my shoulders.

  “I’d better take this back. Don’t want you to get in trouble for impersonating an officer.”

  “Thank you for walking me home.”

  “Here’s my number,” he says, taking a card from his pocket. “Put it in your phone, and text me when you get upstairs. I’ll wait right here until I know you’re safely inside with the door locked behind you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You working tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  I buzz myself into my apartment and head upstairs. When I get in, I lock the door behind me and switch the lights on. I go to the window and look down.

  He’s there like he said he would be, watching over me. I wave, and he waves back. I pull the curtain, feeling safe, feeling protected, and feeling a fluttering in my stomach that I haven’t felt in a long time.

  4

  Flint

  I watch as a group of women leave the restaurant. They’ve had too much wine, and one of them stumbles on her expensive heels. Their cackles of laughter echo down the street to where I’m tucked into a shadowy doorway watching.

  It’s been four days since Olivia got the note, and I’ve waited and watched every night since.

  We’ve fallen into a routine. I meet her after her shift and we walk to her place, talking the whole way. It’s easy conversation, and the last few nights we’ve taken the long route, walking down by the canal and through the town square, so absorbed in our conversation that neither of us wants the walk to end.

  I can see Olivia through the window moving confidently through the restaurant. She stops to talk to the last customer who is sitting at the bar, an older guy who I’ve seen here before. He always eats alone.

  They chat for a few moments, and then he slides off his bar stool and follows her to the door. I don’t like the way he checks out her ass as she moves. My fists clench at my sides, and my blood runs hot.

  She unlocks the door for him, and he gives her a friendly wave as he walks into the night, stumbling slightly. He’s just a lonely old man, I realize, relaxing my fists.

  She looks around the dark street, a frown on her face. I step out of the shadows, and her gaze rests on mine. Her face relaxes and she gives me a warm smile, but there’s still worry etched into her expression. Something has happened.

  I’m about to go over there when she darts back into the restaurant. I slink back into the darkness and watch her talk to Alistair. He seems to be angry about something, his hands gesticulating in a jerky way.

  My body tenses. I dart out of the shadows just as he pulls open the door and bursts out into the night. He doesn’t see me, but heads off up the street in the opposite direction. Olivia follows him out and catches my eye.

  I give her a questioning look, and she shakes her head no. I watch him go as she gets her cardigan and locks up.

  “What was that all about?” I ask when she comes back outside.

  “Just the roster,” she says dismissively. “He wanted tomorrow night off, but our head waitress is still sick. And with the owners away, there’s no one else who can stand in for him.”

  She’s walking fast and hugging her shoulders, and that frown is back on her face.

  “It looks like he’s gotten you shaken up”

  “It’s not that.” She reaches into her pocket. “I got another note.”

  I stop walking and stare at her. “When?”

  “I found it about an hour ago. I went into the office to start the roster, and it was on the floor.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I am telling you.”

  “I mean why didn’t you tell me when it happened? I could have come in and had a look around.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want you to have a look around. What would the customers think?”

  I take her by the shoulders, and it’s all I can do not to shake her.

  “Olivia, I’m here to keep you safe. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

  She looks away and holds out the note. I snatch if off her. It’s in the same style and from the same type of pad.

  You will
pay

  My blood runs cold. “This is getting serious, Olivia. I’m going to have to report this.”

  She shakes her head. “Not until I can talk to Sal and Jenny.”

  “No.” My voice is commanding, and she looks up in surprise. “This is too dangerous. I’m sorry, Olivia, but you’re at risk. I have to get more resources on this.”

  She starts walking, and I follow.

  “I thought you were going to call them?” I say.

  “I can’t get through. I don’t think they have phone signal or Wi-Fi at the retreat.”

  “When are they back?”

  “They land on Sunday.”

  She stops walking. “Look, I know you think I’m crazy, but this is the first time I’ve managed the place on my own. If I mess things up, I’ll never get an opportunity again, and I could lose my job.”

  “But if anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  She’s looking at me searchingly with big round eyes, and I can’t help myself. I lean forward and brush her lips with mine. Her eyes widen.

  “I’ve got feelings for you, Olivia,” I say. “This isn’t just work. This is personal.”

  I crash my lips into hers, and she parts her mouth for me. She’s soft and warm and sweet. My body responds to her, and my dick hardens instantly.

  I pull her body toward me and press myself against her softness. She’s pliant and warm, and she presses back against me.

  “Olivia,” I murmur into her hair. I kiss her delicate neck and she whimpers against me, her head tilted back.

  A car rumbles past, tooting its horn. She jumps back, startled, and we both laugh like a couple of teenagers caught making out.

  I take her hand in mine, and we walk the rest of the way back to her place, talking easily.

  When we get to her apartment, she stops under the flickering lamplight.

  “I am going to have to report this at the station tomorrow,” I say.

  She sighs. “I know. But can you make it as discreet as you can?”

  “I’ll speak to the chief. He knows Sal and Jenny, and I’m sure he’ll understand the need for discretion.”

  “Thank you.” She smiles at me. “I think you’re worrying too much about me. I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can,” I say.

  I kiss her goodnight more chastely this time. I’m aching to press her naked body against mine, to explore her secret womanly places, but I’m still on the job so I restrain myself. She’s under enough pressure as it is. I can wait to claim her when the timing’s right.

  I watch her go inside and wait for her to wave at me from the window. She may think she can take care of herself, but she doesn’t understand that I’m here to protect her.

  She won’t like me watching her house, but I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to her. I find a shadowy spot in a side alley between two apartment blocks and settle in for a long night.

  5

  Olivia

  The next morning I’m dreading the phone call I must make. I put it off all morning, taking a leisurely shower and making a hot breakfast.

  Finally I pick up my phone and dial Sal’s number. It goes straight to voicemail, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Next I dial Jenny’s number. It rings through, but she doesn’t pick up. This time I leave a message. Keeping my voice light, I ask her to call me back.

  I hang up and sit for a moment, wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Not that I have any choice in the matter. Flint is reporting the letters whether I like it or not. I just have to trust him to be discreet and not send a bunch of cops to the restaurant.

  I check my watch. I’m working double shifts until the owners are back; lunch and dinner shift all week.

  There’s an uneasy ball in the pit of my stomach that grows bigger as I get ready to leave the house.

  I dress in pressed pants and a smart blouse and put on a bit of make-up. I’m feeling nervous about going out. Whoever has been leaving those notes has got me rattled.

  I also feel annoyed. I shouldn’t feel scared walking out my own front door in the middle of the day.

  I take a deep breath and open the door. There’s no one around, and I take the elevator downstairs. I buzz open the front door to the apartment block and step out into the open.

  I walk briskly down the street in the direction of town. It’s pretty quiet, and the only sound is the clack of my heels. It’s a pleasant day, but I can’t help a growing feeling that I’m being watched.

  I spin around quickly and see a shadow duck into a doorway. My heart leaps in my throat, but I’m not going to be intimidated.

  I stride over to the doorway, and before I reach it, Flint steps out.

  “It’s you,” I say in surprise. “Are you following me?”

  “I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

  “Okay? You scared the life out of me.” I’m angry now, and I don’t bother trying to hide it. “I thought you were the letter writer.”

  He holds his hands up. “I’m making sure whoever wrote those letters doesn’t harm you.”

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I notice his shabby appearance for the first time, the dark circles under his eyes, and a suspicion dawns on me. “Have you been watching my place all night?”

  He nods. “I felt uneasy leaving you alone.”

  Suddenly, the anger flares up in me again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I thought you’d be angry.”

  “I am angry. I don’t need a personal bodyguard.”

  “I think you do,” he says gently.

  “And I certainly don’t need you.” He looks hurt, but I press on. “So can you please just leave me alone?”

  He nods. “Fine. If that’s what you want, Olivia.”

  “It is. Goodbye Flint.”

  “Goodbye.”

  I turn around and walk away from him, my heart hammering in my chest, fighting the tears that threaten to streak my make-up.

  It’s later that night, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on the job. I was angry at Flint this morning, but as the day has gone on, my anger has cooled.

  I realize he was only trying to do the right thing and keep me safe. If I hadn’t been so bull-headed and withdrawn my complaint, he might not have needed to watch out for me. And at considerable cost to himself, standing in the cold all night and going without sleep. When I think about it, it’s actually quite sweet.

  I’ve messaged him an apology, but he hasn’t replied. I don’t blame him. He’s the only decent man I’ve met in a long time, and I’ve blown it.

  The night seems to drag, but finally I’m ushering out Bevan, our last customer.

  “You don’t look like your usual happy self tonight,” he says. “Everything okay?”

  I smile thinly, but I’m unable to rouse my usual good spirits. “Every thing’s fine. Just looking forward to getting home tonight.”

  “If you ever need to talk, I’m a good listener.”

  I smile more genuinely this time. “Thanks, Bevan. Goodnight.”

  As I shut the door I look around the dark streets, but there’s no sign of Flint. Of course there’s not. I told him to leave me alone. A heaviness sits in my chest, and I close the door quickly and head out back to the office.

  What I don’t realize until afterward is that in my haste I forget to lock the door.

  6

  Flint

  I know Olivia’s angry at me, and I don’t blame her. I should have told her I was upping the surveillance. But if she thinks I’m leaving her unprotected tonight, she’s crazy.

  I watch the restaurant from an alleyway down the road. It’s a Saturday night, and there are more people around than usual. A bar pumps music into the night, and the sound of drunken laughter echoes down the street.

  Her last customer is Bevan, the old guy who seems to always be hanging around. She lets him out and looks around.

  I stay where I
am, hiding in the shadows. I don’t want her to get angry with me again.

  She shuts the door and heads hastily to the back of the restaurant as Bevan zips up his jacket and starts to head off. Only tonight he hesitates. He watches her go through to the kitchen and then stalks back to the door.

  He gives a furtive glance around the street, pulls open the door, and slips inside.

  My blood freezes. It’s him. He left the notes. It all clicks into place. The notes appeared on the nights he was in. He could have easily swiped a notepad.

  I make a quick call for back-up as I sprint up the road. A car beeps its horn at me as it hurtles by, and I jump back onto the pavement. Then I run across the road behind it.

  I pull open the door wondering why the hell she didn’t lock it tonight. There’s no sign of Bevan. He must have followed her out back.

  I move quickly and quietly through the kitchen, pulling my weapon out of its holster. The light’s on under her office door, and I hear voices.

  Without waiting to hear what’s being said, I push open the door.

  “Police.”

  Olivia’s behind the desk, her face white with fear. Bevan’s standing in front of her brandishing a steak knife.

  “Drop the weapon,” I say, pointing my gun at him.

  He has a wild look in his eye, and for a moment I think he’s going to lunge at Olivia. Then his hand starts to shake, and he drops the knife. Suddenly he looks like a sad, lonely man, and I almost feel sorry for him. Then he speaks.

  “You whore,” he spits at Olivia.

  “That’s enough,” I say.

  He turns to me, and his eyes are wide. The crazy look is back. “I just wanted to take her out,” he says. “But she wouldn’t get my hints. I had to do something to get her attention.”

  “Ever try flowers?” I mutter.

  “I wouldn’t waste flowers on a whore like her.”

  “I said that’s enough.” I let my fist fly, and it gets him squarely on the jaw. He falls to the ground, out cold.

  “You’re under arrest,” I say to his unconscious body. I cuff him and leave him slumped on the floor. Then I turn my attention to Olivia.