“Miss Baldwin?” Dr. Elliott’s voice cuts through my thoughts and my eyes snap up to find him staring at me. “The video, please?”
“Uh, sure. Right.” I stumble over the words as I go to the audiovisual cupboard to turn on a video for the students. It begins to play, and I huff at the fact the man can’t even turn on a video without my assistance. He’s teaching a film class for God’s sake!
I feel him behind me, and I turn to look up at him.
“Is something wrong?” he asks, an air of concern in his voice.
I shake my head. “Just feeling the pressure of my project and classes. I’m fine.”
“Good. Then please try to pay attention. I need my TAs to be alert in class.”
I nod, biting my lip as I walk back to my seat. I sigh and sit down, glancing around the room at the students watching the film clip. I’m jealous of these undergraduates. They are just doing school stuff without any real cares in the world. Fine, maybe some of them have issues, but right now, I’m having a pity party and firmly believe mine is far worse than any of theirs.
My phone pings, and I glance down to see a text from Grady.
Grady: After three days of radio silence, Rhett’s garage got vandalized. He and Jackie are still gone but the neighbors called the cops. I’m the only one here, so heading over to take care of things. Are you good to meet Jason at 6 pm at the restaurant? I can meet you guys over there once I finish cleaning up.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I don’t know why. It’s been three very long days with nothing from the stalker. So, why now?
Me: OK. I’m sorry. I was hoping the dresser thing would be the end of it.
Grady: I think it’s far from the end of it.
Me: Don’t say that.
Grady: I’m sorry.
I see the three little dots, and then they disappear.
Me: I’ll see you at the restaurant.
Grady: I shouldn’t be too long. I let Jason know.
Me: Ok
I place my phone in my bag and try to stay focused on the class. But it’s nearly impossible. By the time class lets out and I check my mailbox for interoffice mail, which I find both odd and archaic, I explain the plan to Carl. The security staff is already aware that we are going to dinner with Jason. Poor Jason. He was grilled along with a handful of other people that had been at the penthouse. He’s in the same boat as me, suddenly whisked into this world of fame and insanity. He came up clean just like everyone else that they’ve interviewed about the penthouse. Whoever broke in was good and cleaned their tracks so well that our highly trained security team is still sifting through the web trying to follow up on leads and information on anyone that was in the apartment.
I envy that Jason can stay low-key. I, on the other hand, will be sticking out like a sore thumb with Carl in tow.
I turn to Carl.
“Er, uh, any chance you can put on something other than the Men in Black suit? I sort of don’t want to stick out in the little restaurant.”
He gives me a nod and makes me feel like I’m a military general who just issued an order. “Please,” I add.
He smiles at me, breaking his façade for a moment. “I have a sweater in the car. I can put that on when we get there.”
“It’s sort of warm. You could just take off the jacket,” I tell him. He opens the jacket, and I see his holster. “Oh, I see.”
What parallel universe am I living in?
I shake my head as we get in the car and head to the restaurant. I mindlessly stare out the window, again feeling jealous of all the people we pass that are laughing and calm and generally enjoying their lives, oblivious to any dangers. Meanwhile, I’m here with my guard up like some sort of…princess.
I pull out my phone and text Kate. I’ve been keeping her up to date on what’s happening.
Me: How do you deal with it all?
Kate: Es squeeze me?
Me: Don’t you ever want to be alone?
Kate: Oh…security peeps. Yeah, I do, and I am, but, honestly, I feel safer with them around, and after a while, you don’t notice all the people around you all the time. You sort of live in your own little bubble. I know that sounds strange, but it will get better.
Me: I fucking hope so.
Kate: Cheer up! I feel like you are being mopey. Stop being mopey!!
Me: LOL! Easy for you to say…princess
Kate: (middle-finger emoji) Seriously, cheer the fuck up, beotch!
Me: I’ll try. Ugh!
Kate: You have a hot AF BF. You are making a killer documentary. You’re almost halfway done with your grad program. And your BFF is a princess who is flying you out here for spring break!
Me: WHAT? You are flying me out for spring break?
Kate: Duh.
Me: OMG! Oh God. Kate, I have so much work to do. We’ll only be just wrapping up filming. I have to edit and…I don’t know.
Kate: You can take a week off.
Me: Let’s see where I’m at in another two weeks.
Kate: You are killing me.
Me: Love you.
Kate: Begrudgingly love you too
Me: (heart emoji)
Kate: (heart emoji)
I look up as Carl pulls over to the curb in front of the restaurant and parks. I let him open the door for me because it’s become a thing if I try to get out first. Some sort of security protocol that I find annoying as fuck.
He escorts me inside, and I follow a hostess to a small back table. Jason stands as I approach.
“Good to see you,” he says, motioning for me to sit.
“Sorry that Grady will be late,” I apologize as I take a seat across from him.
“No worries. It’ll give us time to get a margarita.”
I smile and nod as we place an order for two. Carl takes a quick look down the back hall and takes a seat at a table about twenty feet away from us, doing his best to look nonchalant. The smells of slow-cooked meat and Mexican spices fill the air and my stomach growls. I look at the basket of chips and bowl of salsa on the table.
Jason pushes them toward me. “You look hungry, dig on in.”
“Thanks, I’m actually famished. I didn’t have time to eat lunch today.”
“Oh?”
He takes a bite of the chip with no salsa, while I dig into the tomato concoction like I haven’t had food in a week.
“No salsa?” I ask him, pushing the bowl in his direction.
“No, thanks, I’m not a huge spice person,” he admits with a shrug.
“Oh,” I reply, surprised he picked a Mexican restaurant. “So, how was your week?” I ask because now there’s an awkward pause in the conversation, and I’m wondering how I ended up sitting here with my new boyfriend’s secret half brother while he’s cleaning up a garage mess made by a band stalker. My life is officially a soap opera.
“It’s been fine. Better than yours from the look of things,” he says, motioning to Carl.
I shrug. “It’s been interesting.”
“It’s not been all bad for me. I got a new car,” he says with a grin.
“That’s cool. What type?” I ask him as I grab another chip. I’m suddenly feeling super exhausted. Ugh, I should have tried to take a nap in between classes today.
“It’s a sedan. You want to see it? I’m super excited; it’s the first time I’ve bought a brand-new car,” he says.