Home > The Coworker(24)

The Coworker(24)
Author: Freida McFadden

“She’s just overreacting,” she told me. “This woman is crazy. The only people who use these products are nut jobs.”

I was surprised to hear her say that, because I assumed she must use the products herself. But when I asked her about her use of Vixed products, she and Kim burst out laughing simultaneously. I didn’t know what that meant exactly. I wasn’t making a joke.

Then Natalie got up and told Kim something about page sixteen in the magazine and how the dress would be perfect for her. I thought that was the end of our interaction, but then she turned to look at me. I don’t know what it is about her, but whenever she pays me attention, it always makes me feel special. I crave it.

“Dawn,” Natalie said, “don’t answer my phone again. Ever. Got it?”

That wasn’t what I expected her to say. This was yet another moment in my life when I desperately wished I had a shell that I could vanish into. Turtles have it so good. Even though I love them, there are times I feel jealous of them. But of course, I told her I wouldn’t touch her phone again. Ever.

Natalie brushed past me out of the break room, leaving behind the faint flowery scent of her perfume. Despite everything, I still love her perfume. I wonder if I could find a bottle of it. Do you think if I started wearing the same scent, she might like me better?

 

Sincerely,

 

Dawn Schiff

 

 

To: Dawn Schiff

From: Mia Hodge

Subject: Re: Greetings

 

 

OMG do NOT buy perfume to impress that woman! She is NOT worth your time! Stay away from her! I repeat: stay far away from Natalie!

 

Also, I’m sad that you felt you couldn’t tell me your feelings about your love life. Dawn, you are a wonderful person. I am 100% sure that someday there is going to be a man who will understand how completely amazing and intelligent and beautiful you are. And every day, he is going to thank his lucky stars just for being with you. I promise you, you will find someone who feels that way. I hope you believe me.

 

XXO

 

Mia

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

PRESENT DAY

 

 

Natalie

 

 

I feel good this morning.

Seth and I had a really nice night together. After Round Two, we ordered in Chinese food, then watched TV together on the couch. Back when he was still with Melinda, there was always a sense of urgency. He could never stay too late, because she would get suspicious. I liked more laid-back Seth, who was happy to cuddle up with me on the couch indefinitely.

I did send him packing before midnight. Even though we had already slept together, I felt like it would be a betrayal to Caleb for him to spend the night. Well, more of a betrayal. I recognize what I did last night doesn’t exactly make me girlfriend of the year. But it’s been a stressful couple of days, and Caleb was acting distant yesterday when I needed him the most. He lost a lot of boyfriend points for the way he acted yesterday.

Anyway, I got a great night of sleep after the activities of the evening. I woke up bright and early this morning, downed a cup of coffee, and now I am doing my morning run. My blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail, my Spotify playlist is blasting pop hits in my earbuds, and I’ve got on a T-shirt and leggings. When I left my house, it was a brisk forty-degree November morning and I was freezing when my feet first hit the pavement, but now it feels perfect.

I’m glad to see that taking a break for a few days hasn’t affected my stamina. The 5K is in only two days, and it would be embarrassing if I wasn’t one of the front runners, considering I’m the one who organized it.

The endorphins are flowing through my bloodstream. I could climb a tree or even a mountain. I feel the best I felt in days.

That is, until I see Detective Santoro leaning against a gray Volvo parked in front of my house.

Before I went to bed last night, I checked a local news site on my phone to see if there were any updates about Dawn. The most recent article mentioned that the police were still looking for her. It didn’t seem like the police had made much progress. Dawn was still hopelessly missing, as of last night.

And if the detective is here to see me, it doesn’t seem likely that Dawn has turned up alive and well.

I stop short, not sure what to do. For a moment, I consider doing an about-face and putting in another mile or two. But that won’t do me much good. The detective doesn’t look like he’s planning on going anywhere until he talks to me. And it’s not like I can go to work in my T-shirt and leggings, covered in a layer of sweat.

And anyway, I think he sees me.

Sure enough, the detective straightens up and waves at me. I grimace, wishing I didn’t have to talk to him in my sweaty running clothes. Well, I wish I didn’t have to talk to him at all, but my attire doesn’t make the situation better.

“Miss Farrell!” He waves again. “You got a minute?”

I don’t find his Boston accent even slightly endearing anymore.

I walk the last half a block to my house. Detective Santoro looks me up and down with his shrewd dark eyes. “Get in a nice run?”

“Yes…”

He squints up at the sky. “Nice weather for it. And it’s supposed to be a nice day when you’ve got that race on Saturday.”

Of course, he knows all about my agenda for the week. “It’s not exactly a race. It’s more like a fun run for charity.”

He nods like he couldn’t possibly care less. “Would you mind if we went inside?”

“Did you find Dawn yet?”

He doesn’t answer me but instead jerks his head in the direction of my front door. “I just have a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

I should agree. I have nothing to hide. Yet I find my jaw clenching. I didn’t do anything wrong, and it’s like this detective has it out for me. It’s not fair. “I’m afraid I’ve told you everything I know.”

“So it should be real quick then.”

Santoro’s black eyes are leveled at me, and it’s unnerving. I squirm in my sneakers, wishing I could hit the shower before having a conversation with him. I’ve got pit stains, after all. But it seems like I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“Fine,” I say. “But I have to get to work soon.”

“This won’t take long,” he says. “If you want, I’ll write you a note.”

I bristle at the idea of this man writing me a note, like I’m some teenager and he is my dad excusing me from school. I don’t dignify his offer with a response. Instead, I start up the walkway to my front door. I unlock the door and he comes in behind me.

Santoro lingers in my foyer. “Mind if we sit down?”

“Actually, I do mind.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Like I said, I don’t have a lot of time. So what do you need to know?”

He gives me a look like he is surprised by my nerve, but I don’t back down. I’m not going to let this detective push me around.

“So I just want to get more of a sense of your relationship with Dawn,” he says.

My right eyelid twitches. “I told you, we were coworkers. We were friendly, but not really friends. Is that all?”

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