“Symóne, would you mind if I had someone to check your phone, to trace this number?” he asked. Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Gloria entered with a delivery person from the Italian restaurant down the road. He came in with a large bag and began placing the dishes on the table, then asked if they needed anything else. Trevor walked over to the table to inspect the contents, then handed the delivery guy money from a wad of bills he pulled from his pocket and told him to keep the change and thank you. He closed the door behind the delivery guy, then turned to gesture Symóne to the table.
Still shaken up, she slow walked to the chair he pulled out for her, then took a seat. Seeing that she was more upset than she let on, he needed to assure her of his promise from before.
“You haven't given me an answer. May I have someone look at your phone?” he urged her.
She shrugged. “I guess. I don't see how that's going to help.”
“Well, first we'll trace the call—see if we can find out who the number belongs to. Then I'll strongly suggest they end the messages or the they'll be charged with harassment.” he stated. He then knelt beside her, positioning himself to be eye level with her. She looked away, then folded her arms across her chest.
“Whatever. You might as well get out of this mess while the getting is good. See what you've gotten yourself into?” she snapped.
The tone in her voice was more fearful than she wanted him to believe, but Trevor was highly intuitive and noticed right away.
“Symóne…” he reached for her hand and pulled it away from her body. “Did I not promise to protect you yesterday?” he checked her memory.
She looked up at him, curious of his explanation of this promise. “So you knew something was going to happen? Did you set this up to get me to depend on you?” she demanded as she scooted her chair back with the intent to leave.
He placed his hand on the back of her chair to keep her from moving any further while he explained his position.
“Symóne, as an attorney, that would be self destructive to practice such reckless behavior. I told you before, I'm a straight forward man, a man of my word. When I said that I would protect you, I meant your heart. I want a chance to rebuild what has been damaged. This person that is sending you these messages, I don't know who they are. However, I want to put a stop to it right away,” he explained.
He then went over to his desk and pressed a button on the phone, “Gloria, please call the tech team and have Mike to come up immediately,” he requested then released the button.
“Yes Sir. Right away Mr. Harrison,” Gloria replied.
He turned back to face Symóne, who had worked to put her game face back on. She looked at her watch, then pulled herself back toward the table and took the lid off the plate in front of her. He joined her and right before he took a bite of food, there was another knock at the door.
“Come in,” he responded while looking back over his shoulder. It was Mike, the amazing technical wizard of all time.
Trevor handed him Symóne's phone and showed him the texts that needed to be traced. “Find out who it is and get back to me.
“How soon do you need it?” asked Mike.
“Right away.”
“Okay, this will only take a few minutes,” he assured Trevor and walked to the other side of the office to give them privacy. He pulled his satchel over his head and lay it on a table by the wall. He dug through it and pulled out several cords and found one that fit Symóne's phone and plugged it into his tablet. He began scrolling, tapping keys, and taking notes. He pulled the plug from his tablet and the phone, then walked over to Trevor and handed him a piece of paper and Symóne's phone, which Trevor then returned to her. Mike retrieved his tablet and stuck it in his satchel and flung it back over his shoulder.
“Will there be anything else Mr. Harrison?” he asked.
Trevor looked at the paper and was once again amazed at Mike's abilities.
“Not at the moment, but be on standby,” he nodded, excusing him. He continued to eat while looking over the information.
“So did he find out who's harassing me?” she asked, as she pinched off a piece of her roll. At the moment, she didn't have much of an appetite.
Trevor nodded, as he continued to study carefully, the information while eating.
“Okay, so Mike has blocked this number and set up your phone to reject any incoming calls that are not registered to a name. This is a pre-paid calling card number that traces back to California. These are cards that have random numbers that can't be traced to any particular person. However…” he continued after having to take a sip of his water. “Mike shot out a satellite signal and found the signal bouncing off of a cell tower locally and back to a phone here in the Plaza,” he finished.
Symóne choked on her bread and gasped. “So whoever it is, really is watching me?” she suddenly became more afraid than ever. She stood to her feet, preparing herself to walk out of Trevor's office.
“Wait Symóne. I don't want to scare you, but I believe awareness is better than being unaware. I have more information that you need to know,” he stood and moved toward her to become face to face with her.
Her breathing became heavy, filled with panic. All sorts of things were coming to mind as she thought of someone possibly following her home. She lived alone and in a building that was unsecured.
“You've been traced. All of your information has been scanned and even your bank account has been compromised,” he had to stop her from bolting from his office. “Please, let me tell you what I can do to help you Symóne. Don't leave yet,” he pleaded with her.
“I'm going to be late for work. I have to go!” she screeched and pushed past him. Her steps were swift and purposeful. She stood at the elevator, prodding the down button until the doors opened. She stepped inside and just before the doors closed, a hand pulled them back open. It was Trevor, stepping inside, then stood next to her as the doors closed. Something about the finality of hearing that sound, meant she was headed to the outside world where she would be watched by whomever was texting her. Although she tried not to react, the gush of air she released from her lungs was broken.
Against his own rules, Trevor reached out to her, pulling her into his embrace. She broke as she lay her head against his shoulder—he rested his head on top of hers.
“I promised to protect you and I will. Mike has already done a lot, but out of practice of our way of doing things, he doesn't say much out loud. The paper he gave me was in fact all the findings, but also what he's done to protect your accounts…phone, email, bank, etc. He's blocked all outside interference and canceled out your passwords,” he paused because they'd reached the lobby and the both of them stepped out. He walked with her to her building and that's where she stopped him.
“You can't come any further. I'll be fine…and, thanks for what Mike did. How will I access my accounts now?” she asked.
“I'll have that information for you after work,” he assured her, then gave her a strong look of caution, wanting her to be careful of what she said out loud. Becoming paranoid again, she looked around the lobby floor of her building.
She shrugged, then gave him a once over and started for the elevators. She felt his presence, smelled his cologne, then turned to see him standing right behind her.
“I told you—you can't come any further. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself,” she growled through her teeth.
“That may be so, but I'm escorting you all the way to your job. Let me handle whoever tries to stop me,” he stepped on the elevator after her. She refused to look at him, but just had to ask.
“Why are you doing this? You don't know me or owe me anything. What are you after?” she demanded.
“I promised, I care, and your heart,” he said simply.
Her head dropped. She sighed and remained quiet the rest of the way up. The chime of the elevator reaching the twelfth floor was a sound of relief. He would go back to his ow
n building and let her get on with her day. She would find a way to separate herself from him and go back to having a normal life. He stepped out behind her and she whirled around to face him.
“Look!” she almost yelled, but then spoke in whispers. “I'm not worth the trouble, just go back to your cushy life and leave me alone!”
“Hey there Mr. Harrison. Haven't seen you in these parts lately?” asked the security guard on her floor. She looked to him with confusion of why he would know Trevor.
“I haven't had much of a reason to come by until now,” he smiled at Symóne.
The security guard raised his brows at Symóne, then looked back to Mr. Harrison. “So, does this mean you'll be coming by more often?” he asked.
“It looks that way,” he smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Do me a favor and keep a protective eye over Miss Lassetter,” he said with a seriousness that only the security guard would understand. He nodded, then Trevor stepped back onto the elevator.
“See you when you get off work,” he said to Symóne as the doors were closing.
Symóne looked to the security guard full of questions, but only had time for one.
“How do you know him?” she asked.
“He's part owner of this company and two others on the top floor. Mr. Harrison is cool people and treats us all good,” he replied, smiling at the stunned look on Symóne's face. She'd been working in this building for six years and never knew that.
She shook it off and headed back to her cubicle and clocked back in. One of the things she loved about her job was that when it's busy, the day goes by really fast. After her last customer, she shut down her computer and hung her head set on the hook behind the monitor and grabbed her personal belongings and boarded the crowded elevator. When the door opened, everyone filed out into the lobby as they rushed out of the exits.
Symóne was suddenly feeling self-conscious and stopped just inside the glass doors of her building. Okay, get it together Symóne. No one is after you. It was only a pervert with no life, trying to scare you, She said to herself. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, startling her which caused her to scream loudly, practically jumping out of her skin.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” said the man in a dark navy suit.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her guard up.
“I'm Blake…Crowley. Head of security for Mr. Harrison,” he said proudly.
Symóne wasn't impressed, nor did she believe him. He could be the psycho that's been harassing her for two days for all she knew.
“What do you want?”
“Mr. Harrison is caught up in a conference on his case. He sent me to walk you to your car and to make sure you get home safely,” he explained.
“No. I don't know you and I'm not comfortable with that. You can leave now,” she rejected.
Symóne started out of the door and looked back toward Blake to see if he was following her. He stayed put, but would discreetly follow her once she was further away. Halfway down the side walk of the Plaza, she became nervous, unable to shake the feeling that someone was actually following her. She continued to walk, but cautiously began to look around herself, sneaking a peek over her shoulder every couple of steps or so.
Blake was indeed following her, but she didn't see him. Her heart began to pound as she picked up the pace—taking her keys from her purse to have in her hand once she reached her car. Her phone rang and she looked to see that it was Trevor.
“What?” she sounded breathless.
“Symóne, please allow Blake to see you home. He's the best of the best, and I need to know that you're okay,” he said.
“You really sent him?” she asked.
“Yes. He's trusted and has been with our firm from the beginning. He's ex-Secret Service and will take a bullet for you,” he said.
“Oh yeah? Then where is he?” she questioned sarcastically.
“Just say come forward,” he told her.
She looked at the phone with a disbelieving smirk on her face, then looked around for Blake. She took a deep breath, stopping at her car and bit her lip. “Come forward,” she said, gasping at the sight of this man stepping from around the building.
“Do you see him?” Trevor asked, but already knew that she had.
“Yes, he's here,” she sort of chuckled.
“Will you allow him to escort you home?” Trevor sounded desperate.
“I guess,” she sighed. “I have to go. Faye's waiting to hear from me,” she hung up on him before he could say anything. She got in her car and headed home.
Blake had followed her in a black unmarked sedan and parked in an empty slot. She walked over to his car to tell him she was okay from there, but he was already getting out to escort her all the way to her door.
“Thanks for the escort, but you're no longer needed,” she repeated.
“Mr. Harrison said to sweep your apartment then watch until he calls me back.”
“You're not coming inside of my house!”
“It's my orders,” he replied.
She grunted under her breath, then turned to storm up the stairs to the second floor. She stuck her key in and unlocked the door, then went inside. She stood waiting for him to come inside so that he could get on with it, then leave.
As he went from room to room, checking closets and her patio, she wondered why Trevor was being so dramatic. People get anonymous calls or text messages all the time, and she was only freaked out because she feels watched too.
“Okay Miss Lassetter, everything is clear inside. Be sure to call Mr. Harrison if you feel the slightest bit afraid or threatened in any way. He'll contact me and I'll come check things out,” Blake promised, then he was gone…at least from her apartment.
After closing and locking the door behind him, she got comfortable and called Faye.
“It's about time! What's been going on?” Faye demanded. Her voice had returned and she sounded back to her normal self.
“I guess you're feeling better?” asked Symóne.
“Yes. Much better. So…what's been going on?”
“Well, I'm not sure where to start. So I guess from the beginning it is,” Symóne exhaled.
Knowing Faye, if Symóne didn't give her all the details to what she was about to tell her, she would end up telling the story twice.
“Yesterday, after I talked to you before work, Mr. Harrison approached me and asked me to have lunch with him tomorrow, well…today. Of course I said no, but he insisted and sort of intrigued me, so I gave him my number…” she was interrupted.
“I knew it! I knew it! I'm so happy for you!” Faye squealed. “Okay, you may continue,” she breathed.
Symóne shook her head and sighed deeply. “Well, after I gave him my number and headed back to work, he texted me to make sure that I didn't give him a bogus number. Then I started receiving texts from an anonymous number that creeped me out. I thought that it was Trevor, so I told him not to text me anymore. Well after checking up on you and finding out that you were out for the count, I went home and called it a night. This morning, I woke up late, missed my coffee and bagel, but someone brought it to me at work. Trevor had sent a gofer to get my usual and my day was saved,” she paused to take a long breath and to let Faye have her say, which she knew she was dying to.
“Symóne, do you have any idea what this means? He is so perfect for you, I can feel it!” she chimed.
“Well before you get too ahead of yourself, there's more,” said Symóne. What she had just told Faye was a recap from what she had already told her earlier, but like she said, she was starting from the beginning.
“Do tell.”
“At lunch today, I was about to call you before heading up to Trevor's office for lunch—to check on you and to let you know about my lunch date, but then I got another text message from the anonymous number. Whoever it is, has been watching me. He knew things, like that I had a lunch date and had said that it wasn't safe for me to be around Trevor. It sort of scared me
, so I went into his building and up to his office and waited for him,” she explained then continued her story up until she got home with the body guard to their current phone call.
“Symóne, you need to pack a bag and come stay here for a while. I don't like the sound of this. If Trevor, a high powered attorney feels this strongly about putting protection around you, he must sense something bad too,” Faye pleaded.
“I'm not going to let anyone force me out of my own home. It's probably just some lonely freak with nothing else to do besides harass others. I'm more worried about who it could be, and how they got my number. Now that they are blocked, there shouldn't be any more texts.”
“I still don't like this one bit Symóne. I'm worried about you,” she cautioned. “At least I'll be back at work tomorrow. I'll feel better keeping an eye on you.”
There was a knock at Symóne's door, which Faye heard through the phone. Symóne got up from the sofa and looked out of the peephole and saw that it was Trevor.
“Faye…I'll call you back.”
“Wait! Who's at your door?”
“Really?” Symóne whispered to herself.
“Faye, I'll call you back.” she ended the call.
She opened the door only a little. She stood in his view of her apartment, but partially behind the door as she was in her comfy baggy shorts and a tank top.
“Why did you come here?” she asked.
“For three reasons. One, I brought you some important information I told you earlier that you would be getting today. Two, I wanted to check on you to see for myself that you were okay. And three, I really just wanted to see you. May I please come in, just for a little bit?” his smile was sincere, and somehow she trusted it. Yet, her head was screaming No! He could be the perverted jerk that's been texting her so that he could pretend to swoop in and save the day and win her over.
“I don't think so. It's late, I'm tired, and I don't know you well enough yet,” she scoffed without looking into his eyes. She feared the smoothness of his tone of voice, the deep penetrating gaze from his eyes, and his too hot to not touch body, would obscure her common sense.
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