by Sarah Peis
Freddie hadn’t left the house at all and had refused to go to school this morning. She followed me around like a lost puppy, toilet stops being the only break she allowed. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to leave the house either. I was still too freaked out at what had happened and scared Dickhead would try and get revenge. He knew where we lived, having picked Freddie up many times, but at least we could lock the doors and clutch our phones. Just in case.
Josie was her usual bubbly self, thankfully not picking up on the tension. Oma tried to deal with everything by cooking up a storm, not only making her famous Apfelstrudel, but also Nusshoernchen, and a cheesecake. I did end up telling her everything that had happened, and she was furious. She wanted us to go to the police, but Freddie refused. She was scared out of her mind and didn’t want to piss Dickhead off even more. There was no convincing her. In the end, she started crying again so we left it alone.
Now I was back at work and wondering what to do. I got curious stares from Claire and Martin, the other two people working for Cassie. Claire had just graduated from Virginia Tech and was a genius. I didn’t know how Cassie had convinced her to come work for us. Martin was in his late twenties with a brown mop of hair that desperately needed a trim. For the last few weeks, he had been trying to grow a beard but the fuzz on his face didn’t promise much success.
I liked working with them; they were friendly, knew their stuff and never got angry at me for screwing up appointments. The last one I was especially grateful for. I just wasn’t made to organize someone else’s life. And to be honest, I was in the wrong job, but I needed the money and Cassie wanted to help so she’d offered up the assistant position. There wasn’t enough baked goodness I could bring in to ever make it up to them.
Claire gasped loudly when she saw my eye and fussed over me until I told her to give me some room to breathe. She grudgingly left but shot me looks from her desk. Martin asked me if I was okay in his calm Martin way and gave my shoulder a squeeze once I assured him that everything was fine. He wouldn’t push. That wasn’t his way.
I felt their eyes on me all morning, so when lunchtime rolled around, I shot out of my chair and offered to buy lunch for everyone.
The small deli down the road was our usual go to and after assuring Berta who worked the counter every day that I was okay, I placed our order. I got back to the office with two sandwiches, for me and Martin, two salads, for Cassie and Claire, and four coffees, for all of us. I plopped it all down in the front area that we deemed our lunch room for the lack of one and called out to everyone, “Lunch is served. And I’m not waiting for you all to get your asses over here to start my sandwich. So if you don’t want your food to be half gone by the time you get here, you better move it.”
Everyone knew this was no empty threat. I had stolen more than one lunch, having learned from the best. Nate used to be a master at eating other people’s food, mainly mine since I had been around the most. I’d quickly learned to scoff it all down in record time to make sure he didn’t steal it. Something I still seemed to do, but since I was usually short on time it was a great skill to have. Speed eating for the win.
I sat down on one of the beanbags that we made Cassie buy and unwrapped my sandwich. I took my first bite and hummed in pleasure. Dino’s did the best sandwiches in town. Just the right amount of cheese, meat and salad ratio. And to top it off, they made their own aioli sauce.
Nobody emerged and I peeked around the corner to find out what was taking so long. I saw Claire and Martin standing next to their desks, staring at Cassie’s closed office door. That was odd behavior, even for them.
“What’s going on?” I whisper-hissed and their heads shot around.
“Nothing. Maybe you should go out and get some ice cream,” Claire whisper-yelled back.
No way was I missing the excitement. Something was clearly going on or they wouldn’t look so freaked out. My brows shot up when there was shouting coming out of Cassie’s office and the door opened. Claire and Martin dove back to their desks to hide.
I watched a very angry Rhett stomp out, pausing briefly to look at my empty desk right outside Cassie’s office. This did sound like a good time to get some ice cream. He hadn’t seen me yet so I could probably sneak out. I put my sandwich down and got up.
I made it two steps before I felt him.
Three steps before the back of my neck prickled.
Four steps, and he was behind me, grabbing hold of my elbow and turning me around to face him. I hissed at the sudden movement, my ribs protesting at the sharp turn. They weren’t broken as I found out when I went to the doctors on Saturday but the bruising would take a while to heal.
I kept my head turned down and tried to pull my elbow back. Rhett getting in my face right now was not what I needed. “Let go of me.”
The urge to wrap an arm protectively around my middle was strong, but the last thing I wanted was for him to ask questions. Hence the downturned face. I wiggled my arm again in another attempt to get free but he held on. It wasn’t painful but firm, and there was no way I would get out of it if he didn’t want me to.
“Rhett, please,” I pleaded.
“What’s wrong?” he asked and stepped closer.
“Ever heard of personal space?”
“Emmi, I asked you a question. Why are you hunched over like that? And don’t bullshit me. I know all your tells.”
And didn’t he ever. I was never a good liar but Rhett was particularly good at calling me out. Apparently I had a ‘tell’ but he never did say what that was.
“You do not. And I forgot I have a meeting so I really need to get going.”
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I ignored him and tried getting out of his grip again. He pulled me towards him in response, and I collided with his chest, crying out in pain. He immediately let me go. “Emmi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think I pulled that hard.”
“It’s fine,” I said and tried to make my escape, not planning on him stepping in front of me. I looked up in surprise and wished immediately I hadn’t. His eyes went dark, his face turned into a scary mask of fury the second he saw me.
“What happened?” he growled and reached out a hand but stopped when I flinched back. “Who did this?”
I stepped back. “Nobody. I tripped and fell into a door. Now I really need to go.”
“Emmi.” He hissed my name, his eyes lingering on my bruise.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled and made a run for it. I raced outside and down the street, ignoring his calls for me to come back. Walking without a direction seemed like a good idea to get away, but once I ran out of steam, I realized I had gone further than planned. My ribs were on fire and the walk back to the office took me over an hour. I peeked inside to make sure the coast was clear and once I couldn’t hear or see Rhett, I went back inside.
“Where the hell have you been?” Cassie said as soon as she spotted me sneaking back to my desk.
“Out for a walk. It was my lunch break after all.”
“You left us with that angry hulk of a man. He only left because I told him what happened to you. Why didn’t you just tell him?”
“You did what? You had no right. It’s none of his business.”
I was outraged, but at the same time I knew that if Rhett wanted information, he would get it.
Cassie waved her hand to dismiss my concern. “What is he gonna do? You don’t even know Dickhead’s name.”
Unapologetic as ever. If there was one thing Cassie excelled at it was standing by her decisions. A trait I admired. Because I was the master of questioning myself. And she was right anyway. At least it got Rhett off our backs.
“What did he want anyway?” I asked as I settled back at my desk.
“He said he’d sign a three-year contract with us if we contract you out for the time of the agreement,” Cassie said, calm as a pickle.
A three-year contract would be huge. It would set her up for a long time s
ince it was such a big client. She could expand. Use his name to get new clients. This was amazing. And bad. Firstly, because I didn’t want to be contracted out and have to work in Denver. A two-hour commute did not sound appealing. Secondly, I didn’t know shit about the program except for its specs. Claire and Martin were the brains who worked with the clients on implementation and maintenance. And thirdly, just no. It was Rhett. He had an ulterior motive. I guessed he wanted me under his control to punish me for what I supposedly did.
“I hope you told him to stuff it.”
“What do you think?”
“Yup, you told him to stuff it,” I grinned at her, enjoying the fact that somebody told the almighty Rhett no for a change. “I’m guessing that’s why he lost it in your office?”
“That, among other things. But that’s not important right now. What is important is what we’re going to do about your problem. You need to convince Freddie to go to the police. People like Dickhead are not going to just let this go. As our local crime lord, he won’t just take the humiliation.”
I sighed. And then I sighed again. It was a double sigh situation after all. Because she was right, once again. And I knew I had to do something but just couldn’t get myself to make a decision. If I made Freddie go to the police station, she would freak out and never forgive me. If I left it alone, he could show up at our house at any time.
“I don’t know what to do. I keep seeing Freddie on the floor over and over again.”
Cassie dropped down next to my chair and tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear. “Whatever you decide to do, you have my full support. If Freddie doesn’t want to go to the police station, you guys can just come live with me. It will be fun.”
That last part was a lie. Cassie lived in a two-bedroom apartment. It was a nice, swanky apartment. But there was no way we would all fit.
“Thanks Cass, I’ll figure something out.”
“I know you will. Now get back to work, I need you to fix the double-ups for next week. I saw at least three on my calendar.”
“All lies. Your calendar must be confused.”
She grinned at me. “It must be.”
“Don’t answer the door,” Freddie squealed and dived in front of me.
I frowned, not sure if it was time for her to see a professional for help. She hadn’t been to school all week or seen any of her friends. She hadn’t even left the house once. And every time the doorbell rang, she begged us not to answer it. This was becoming a problem since I ordered everything online. Even the groceries. I had no time to go to the shops. So much easier to use work time and do it then.
The last two delivery drivers were nice enough to pass their signature pad through the window for me to sign. But I’d had enough. There had been no sign of Dickhead. Not even a threatening message. Nothing.
Admittedly, I’d hardly slept at all since the incident and as a result looked like shit, but Freddie was taking her worry to a new level. I was not sure when she last took the time to shower and to make matters worse, she’d started watching daytime soaps with Oma. It was entirely possibly she had gone a tad bit crazy.
Oma was religious about her soaps. You didn’t talk to her while they were on. She had two favorites at the moment, El Talisman and Days of Our Lives. She even named her demon cat after a character in the series, Celeste Perrault. And now she had a faithful companion in Freddie. The fact that they didn’t speak a word of Spanish didn’t stop them from staring at the screen every time El Talisman was on.
I shook my head and moved her to the side. “Move over, I’m opening this door no matter what.” Our worry was unfounded, since we now had our personal bodyguard. He mysteriously showed up the day Rhett stormed out of my office and hadn’t left.
A glance out the window confirmed him still sitting in his car across the street. If whoever was at the door was a threat, he wouldn’t have let them get close. He was a mammoth of a man. His name was Gunner, at least that’s what I thought he’d grunted at me last time I brought him a cup of coffee.
She jumped back in front of me. “What if it’s Colin?”
“Who’s Colin?”
“Really, Emmi?” Freddie asked me, incredulous. “Dickhead is Colin. What did you think his name was?”
Right, I thought his name started with C. I moved her again, advancing further towards the door. The person on the other side was getting impatient, the banging getting louder and more frequent.
I tried to, once again, reason with her. “Don’t you think it’s pretty unlikely he would just walk up to our door and ring the bell? Especially with Gunner right outside?” More likely he’d kick down our back door, but I didn’t voice that concern. I thought I had that entry covered anyway. With a big ass kitchen cabinet that was a bitch to move and left a lot of dust in its wake.
I peeked out the peephole and my hand froze on the doorknob. Hell no, I was not answering the door. “Never mind. I think you’re right. We shouldn’t open the door for anyone.”
I carefully backed up, waving Freddie along. We almost made it out of the hallway when Oma appeared behind us. “Why is nobody answering the door?” she asked.
“They have the wrong house,” I tried to explain.
“Doesn’t seem like they think they do,” she said and walked past us. She ignored our cries to keep the door closed and short of physically stopping her, we had no other option. And that was just wrong, tackling an eighty-five-year-old lady.
She opened the door to a scowling Rhett. Seriously, did the man not know how to smile?
“Rhett, mein lieber, what are you doing here?” Oma asked and held out her arms for a hug. Rhett complied and kissed her on the cheek. She acted as if she had been waiting for him to arrive all day. Shouldn’t really surprise me since she’d always loved him. Apparently she still did.
“Edeltraud. You are looking as radiant as ever. So good to see you.”
Oma blushed—BLUSHED—and waved him inside. “I just made rhubarb pie. You’ll stay and have some.” She looked past Rhett as if expecting someone else to come through the door. “Have you seen Celeste on your way in?”
Hopefully that incarnation of evil was somewhere far, far away. She peed in my boots this morning. The smell was close to impossible to get rid of. The week before, she pulled the curtains down and shredded them. But Oma loved her cat no matter how much damage she caused to us humans and the furniture.
“She’s still alive? She’d be close to twenty years old now,” Rhett said and Oma nodded proudly.
She pulled Rhett through the door, telling him to take a seat and went outside to look for her hellcat.
“Thank you, Edeltraud,” he answered.
Once she was out of earshot, he turned to me. “You know I could hear everything that you guys were saying? I was standing right on the other side of that door.”
Well, now that just made this whole thing so much less awkward. Not.
“Good for you. Have fun hanging out with Oma. I have to get milk.”
Was it too much to ask for him to let me pass for once? But no, he stopped me, like usual, and crossed his arms over his chest, very unusual. So far there had been a lot of arms and hand holding involved. This was a new approach.
“We need to talk.”
“Just what every girl likes to hear.”
He nodded behind me. “Hey Freddie, how are you?”
I looked over my shoulder and watched my sister do a very good impression of a fish. She blinked, once, twice and then blushed. She clearly took after me.
“Do you mind giving us a minute?” he asked.
She nodded and disappeared into her room. That little traitor.
He turned his attention back to me. “Your face looks better.”
“Stop with the compliments already, I can’t take it.”
He ignored my misplaced sarcasm and continued his study of me. He looked like he was cataloguing every part of my body, making me shift nervously on my feet.
“Are you okay?�
�
There he went again, making my heart flutter and my breath hitch. “I’m fine,” I replied, but he didn’t look convinced. “Really. I am.” And I really was. My rib was only bruised and the coloring around my eye had gone from a dark blue to a multitude of shadows. Still makeup resistant but at least less obvious.
“Gunner said you’re giving him a hard time,” Rhett said, not looking all too pleased. Well, tough titties, because Gunner was a pain in my ass.
“We don’t need him.” Even though we really did. At least Freddie managed a few hours of sleep a night thanks to our five hundred pounds, give or take a few hundred, bodyguard who looked even angrier than Rhett and was also less talkative. Any attempt at small talk was met with a raised brow and crossed arms.
“Just let him do his job. He’s good,” Rhett tried again.
“I don’t need a babysitter. This is ridiculous. Take him back.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You heard me. And I’m not big on repeating myself.”
Argh, he was so frustrating. “Fine.”
“Great. Now let’s talk about your secondment.”
“My what?”
“You working for me.”
“Not happening, buddy. I thought Cassie already told you this.”
“I guess you haven’t spoken to her recently.”
What the hell did that mean? Cassie had been avoiding me for the last two days, but I figured she was still mad that I booked her an economy ticket.
“She agreed to you being our contact person. And we need constant access to someone from your office so you will be working with me.”
Motherfucker. “What the hell. I can’t drive two hours to get to work every day. Impossible.”
“I’ll get you an apartment in Denver.”
“Rhett, I can’t just move. I have responsibilities.”
