Without responding to me, he pulled out his wallet. “You were police once.” I motioned to his eyes. His hair was kept short, and he was staring back at me, not a feather ruffled. He looked to be in his fifties, but he kept himself trimmed. His brown suit was pressed to the point it could cut through paper, so he at least had the self-respect to use an iron. He closed down, and he watched me back with almost-dead eyes. I’ve been patient, but you’re so sloppy now that I’m embarrassed for you.”Īfter his initial surprise, he was a cool customer.ĭuring my whole speech, he didn’t move. If you’re anyone else, you better speak up now while we both aren’t bloody. If you’re one of those lovesick fucks, then I’ll call you a police escort to the nearest psych hospital. “What are you? I’m aware some circles know me, but I’m not paparazzi worthy. “Hey, yourself.” I put the camera back on the table. “Hey-” His voice stopped once he got a good look at my face. He had just put down his camera and was reaching for his coffee when I swung into the chair, taking the camera on my way and flipping open the back to expose the film. I headed toward the bathroom, but then swung through the kitchen, ignoring the startled staff, and came up behind him. So, all that to say, it was almost painful how much this guy stood out. The staff all wore tuxedo-like uniforms-black dress pants and buttoned-down white tops-and some even did the whole white gloves thing when they were serving. And they were formal dresses like my mom would’ve worn to a fundraising gala, not the nightclub kind of dresses. It was a byproduct of who I was and who I was connected to, but for fuck’s sake, this guy was a new problem for me.ĭining in a high-end restaurant, I found the majority of the patrons wearing business suits and dresses. Not to mention my folks, both movie producers and directors. Having a best friend who played pro football, his wife an Olympic runner, and a brother-in-law as a soccer superstar, I was well versed in sneaking in and out of places. This wasn’t my first rodeo dealing with people like this guy.
Standing from the table, I gave a polite smile to both my realtor and colleague. I was here looking at investment properties.
He showed up in Boston, then Chicago, and now he was following me in Seattle. I caught glimpses of him every now and then. The dude had been following me for the past three weeks. It was now insulting how stupid he thought I was. My last straw had been when I saw him pull out the camera, and I’d had enough. He’d been fine at first, putting some effort into being secretive and following me at a distance, but then he started getting lazy. I wanted to beat the shit out of my stalker.
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