Waiting for Romeo Page 18

  CHLOE: Hey you!

  ME: Hi. You looked like you were enjoying yourself last night :)

  CHLOE: I can say the same about you ;)

  BTW, thanks for inviting me. I had a blast and Tyler is adorbs.

  ME: Yes, but he’s not British ;)

  CHLOE: LOL…you must be referring to my pajama top. Yes, well if there is anything truly hotter than a guy with an accent it’s a guy who can sing.

  ME: How about a British guy who can play the guitar and sing?

  CHLOE: OMG…you might be right, but Tyler is pretty smoking. You’re sure you are okay with it?

  ME: Definitely.

  CHLOE: Cool…thanks again for helping me get my mojo back.

  ME: It’s the least I could do. You DID help me get mine back as well ;)

  CHLOE: Haha…that was ALL Logan. I was just an innocent bystander/cheerleader.

  See you in class.

  ME: K

  I’m laughing when my phone buzzes again. I grab it, expecting it to be Chloe again.

  LOGAN: Hi. Thanks for last night…and this morning…and today :)

  ME: Hi. I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you. Thank you for staying and helping clean up the store and thank you for the late lunch/early dinner :)

  LOGAN: Are you getting your work done?

  ME: Not at the moment :)

  Actually, I’m having a hard time starting it. I’m just lying here…can’t seem to focus.

  LOGAN: Because of me, right? ;)

  ME: YES. How did you know?

  LOGAN: Lucky guess…actually I’m having the same problem. You want to come over?

  ME: Why? Do you have something else you want to show me?

  LOGAN: You know I still find it amusing you thought I wanted to show you my bed.

  ME: It’s a nice bed :)

  LOGAN: It’s nicer when you’re in it.

  ME: Flirt.

  LOGAN: Guilty.

  ME: Good night, Logan.

  LOGAN: See you soon, my love.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I’M ALWAYS TRAINING even when there are no races in the immediate future. Running is a year-round sport for me and even though I do it for my own personal benefits, emotionally and physically, I also do it for the pure pleasure of winning.

  I haven’t had a race since the fall and now that the Cross Country season is over, my focus is on Track and Field. Our conference meets are quickly approaching and Coach Walker wants our team to start training by running intervals. These high-intensity sessions really help me develop a more efficient stride and build strength in my muscles. In a nutshell, it helps me to run faster.

  A week has gone by since Spyder was broken into and as far as we know, the police haven’t made any arrests connected to it. If they have any leads, I’m sure they are keeping the information close to their chests. Either way, I haven’t had much time to think about it or sleuth out any leads with Bryn. We both have been far too busy with schoolwork to even think or worry about any of it.

  The only reason why it’s on my mind now is because I’m headed to the track and I’m wondering if Sebastian will be there. I haven’t seen him since that night at Soho and Logan hasn’t seen or heard from him since he moved out and sold their old place. Initially, Logan and Bryn were so concerned about me seeing him today they insisted one of them or both would escort me. But I stubbornly told them it was ridiculously unnecessary for them to babysit me while I’m on a track with my teammates, coaches, and dozens of other people out on a beautiful Saturday morning.

  Besides if Sebastian is crazy enough to harass me again, I’d prefer it if he did it in front of a crowd of onlookers. I find it hard to believe that Sebastian would want to hurt me just because of his fractured friendship with Logan. Why would someone feel the need to regain his power by hurting or threatening me? It makes no sense even though it’s not the first time I’ve heard it.

  Glancing around the track, I see no sign of Sebastian. I’m wondering if he’s just late when I overhear some of the senior guys talking about him. “I heard he dropped out.” Another guy adds, “I heard he’s living in a car. I don’t get it. I thought that dude had money. He certainly talked about it all the time.” Then another senior says, “He had money. Supposedly, his parents cut him off…they probably realized whatever’s left in his trust fund was all going up his nose.”

  I jump when I hear Coach Walker’s voice behind me, “Ready, Emilia? Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I blink up at him. “No, I’m good.” I stand, making my way to the starting line.

  An hour later, after Coach pats me on the back and tells me to keep up the good work, I’m done for the day. Since I switched my workday until tomorrow, instead of heading directly home, I plug in my headphones and decide to continue running. I head down the street, winding my way around Cabrillo Boulevard, which runs along the beach.

  People stroll past me, on this beautiful sunny morning, taking their time, enjoying their day or doing their Saturday morning chores. All my thoughts are put to rest as I run, focusing on the music in my ear and the sun in my face. Youngblood Hawke’s “We Come Running” plays as I make my way around the bend, crossing the street.

  Headed for the open door

  Tell me what you’re waiting for

  Look across the great divide

  Soon they’re gonna hear

  The sound, the sound, the sound

  When we come running

  Never go where we belong

  Echoes in the dead of dawn

  Soon they’re gonna know

  The sound, the sound, the sound

  When we come running….

  I’m on Sycamore Canyon Road, taking my usual route back towards home, when it happens.

  All the color drains from my face as fear swallows me. At first, the tire of a car, out of nowhere, screeches up the curb, blocking my path. Then in a matter of seconds, the passenger door swings open and I’m yanked inside the back of the car. Shit. The door slams shut behind me. But just as I’m preparing myself to kick and scream, I’m hit by a familiar scent and then…I breathe…Thank God…I hear his voice.

  “Sorry, baby. Are you okay?” His arms are still around me, tight, from pulling me into the car.

  I look up at him, dazed. “Are you nuts? You scared the shit out of me.” I steady my breathing.

  Pulling myself up on the leather seat, I’m finally aware of my surroundings. I’m in the back seat of a car…some type of limousine…not a stretch like before but I see Stan is in the driver’s seat. His full attention is on the road as he maneuvers, quite quickly, I might add, around a residential neighborhood.

  “Any sign?” Logan says towards Stan.

  “No.” He replies, a bit flustered.

  “Did you get a good look?” Logan asks him again while I sit, frowning, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Who? What?” I sputter.

  Stan shakes his head. “No.”

  “Shit.” Logan says. Then he turns his attention to me. “Emilia, someone was following you. You know you really shouldn’t wear these…” He pulls on my headphones. “You shouldn’t wear them when you run, especially by yourself.”

  “What? How?” I blink, trying to understand.

  He takes my hand in his as he turns to face me. “I was worried about you…and Bryn. The last time either one of us heard from you…you were headed to the track…that was over two hours ago. Bryn was out and she ran into someone from your team. When she found out that practice was only an hour and everyone was gone, she texted me.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Bryn texted you?”

  “Yes. She probably had my number in her phone just to keep tabs on me…doesn’t matter and I can’t say I blame her.”

  Yep, that sounds like Bryn. I picture her giving him the: I’ve-got-my-eyes-on-you look.

  He continues. “She happened to call just as I was returning from dropping off my dad at the airport. Remember I told you he came in for a me
eting last night?”

  “Right. So, you were coming from the airport?” I ask, trying to follow the story.

  “Then Bryn texted me and shortly after I saw you running. You were in the distance so it was hard to see you, but as you were running someone kept following you.”

  “What do you mean? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m certain and Stan saw him too.”

  “Him?” I shift, uncomfortably

  “It was hard to tell. I think so. The person had sweats on and a baseball hat so it was impossible to see their hair. Did you pass anyone like that while you were running? What did Sebastian have on when you saw him at the track?”

  “But…” I start to say before he interrupts me.

  “Did he say something to you? Did something happen?”

  “No. He wasn’t even there. Do you think he was following me?” I say, confused.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I sit back in the seat, trying to make sense of it all.

  “What, now?” I ask, deciding to lighten the mood. “Fingerprinting? Blood work? Hair and Fiber Analysis?” I bite my lower lip to stifle my laugh.

  Logan smiles, slightly. “I’m glad you can find some humor in this because I certainly can’t.”

  “Logan, I think you’re overreacting…you and Bryn. I’m fine and maybe you thought you saw something?”

  He shakes his head. “I know what I saw…we know what we saw.” He motions towards Stan.

  “I’d like to take a shower now.” I smile.

  “How about we swing by your place, get your stuff and then we can discuss all of this at my place.” He pauses a second. “Hair and Fiber Analysis? I think you’re watching too much CSI or is it Law and Order?” He chuckles, visibly relaxing. I feel a sense of relief wash over me.

  Hopefully we can continue making light of this ridiculous situation so I can rid myself of this uneasy feeling…and if he’s feeling the same it’ll do us both a world of good.

  “Both. Bryn is obsessed with those crime shows. I’m fine with going to your place, but any particular reason? I glance up at Stan, but he appears to be completely focused on the road.

  “I’m sure I can come up with something.” He holds my hand, softly caressing my knuckles.

  “I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Ten?” He asks.

  I nod.

  “Not a problem.” He smiles and then kisses my hand.

  While Logan updates Bryn on the morning’s events, I take a shower and change. I’m relieved that he’s explaining everything to her because I’m still trying to make sense of it all. Grabbing my small overnight bag, I stuff in it: a few female necessities, my cell, a change of clothes for tomorrow and the Victoria’s Secret nightgown Bryn gave me for Christmas.

  I fall back on my bed and stare at the ceiling for a moment. Hearing the hushed voices of Logan, Josh, and Bryn downstairs, I rub my hands over my eyes, trying to process the morning. Why would someone follow me and, in broad daylight for that matter?

  Snatching my phone out of my bag, I call my dad.

  “Hi, honey. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, fine…busy.” I murmur.

  “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “I’m just pooped…you know…lots of running, studying, papers…” I trail off, deciding I better change the topic before he senses something is wrong. “By the way, I saw the portrait you painted of me.”

  “Ah. So, things are better with Logan?” He asks.

  “Yes. I don’t ever remember seeing that painting.”

  “I’m sure you just forgot about it. It was a long time ago…but I decided it’s better if I stick to landscapes. My portrait painting technique is a bit lacking…portraits are extremely difficult especially if your subject is someone you’re close to.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself, dad. I think its amazing and obviously so does Logan.”

  He chuckles. “He was quite adamant about buying it from me. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re back together because it would be kind of weird.” I laugh. “Okay, I better get going.”

  “Thanks for calling, hon. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  When I hang up and head downstairs, I know Bryn has her detective hat back on because I overhear her saying something about a stakeout.

  “A stakeout?” I say, not hiding my disgust. “Bryn, you’re kidding, right?”

  Logan is quickly at my side, taking my bag from me, as he slides his arm around my waist.

  “It’s not a bad idea. We just need to figure out where he’s staying.” She says more to herself than anyone else. If she had any clue where Sebastian is she would already be sitting in her Cooper, sipping a cup of coffee and eating a doughnut, while waiting for his next move.

  “Well, good luck with that. According to some of the guys today at the track, Sebastian has dropped out of school and is living in a car somewhere.”

  Bryn opens her mouth to speak, but before she does, I continue.

  “And, no Bryn I didn’t get the license plate and make of the car.”

  “Damn.” She says, under her breath.

  “Ready?” Logan asks, looking at me.

  “Where are you two going? We’ve got a case to crack.” Bryn says, enthusiastically.

  I move out of Logan’s grasp and towards Bryn. Taking her hands in mine, I look into her eyes.

  “I know you are all gung-ho about this detective work, Nancy Drew. But let’s leave it to the police. I’m going to stay at Logan’s tonight so I suggest you give this all a rest. I’m sure we’re overreacting and these weird coincidences are all just that…coincidences.”

  “Okay. But you’ll text me if something comes up?”

  “Yes. Of course.” I give her a quick hug before I turn and head out the front door with Logan.

  “I REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME you cooked for me.” I smile at the thought as I lean against the counter.

  Opening the refrigerator, he smiles back at me. Our plans to head to his new place just down the street were quickly thwarted when we decided that his parent’s house in Montecito might be a better option. The Smiths, the caretakers of the Prescott’s magnificent French Country estate, keep only that kitchen well-stocked so the choice was easy: either head to the grocery store and fill Logan’s empty pantry or come to the estate, where we could easily live off the kitchen’s supplies for months if we had to.

  “If I remember correctly, you thought it was some sort of a seduction strategy, me bringing you here that first time. Am I right?” He pauses, but before I can respond he adds. “I see Celeste has left one of your favorites. Would you like some clam chowder?”

  I smile. “Well, it was all quite impressive…the clam chowder sounds perfect, thanks.”

  Logan grabs the container from the refrigerator. Spooning out the soup into two bowls, he pops them into the microwave and a couple minutes later we are sitting side-by-side at the island.

  “Did I impress you again?” He smiles as he blows on his spoonful of soup.

  “Of course.” I smile back at him. “You are quite good at using the microwave and it smells divine.” I breathe through my nose as the steam rises above the bowl.

  We eat in silence for a brief moment.

  “I think it was a good call coming here…just for this soup.” I say between bites.

  “Just for this soup? I think just for keeping you safe. I know you think I’m overreacting or we’re overreacting, but Emilia, I don’t want to get you upset…someone was seriously following you.”

  I shrug…not sure how to respond. I suppose a part of me is either in denial or just a bit skeptical…sure Sebastian scared me and threatened me, but for him to actually follow me with the intention of hurting me…I find it hard to believe.

  His eyes are on mine, trying to understand my reaction. “You don’t believe me…or Stan for that matter? You think Stan would drive
like a lunatic, up a curb to cut you off, just for pure fun?” He says, softly.

  I stifle a laugh. “That was pretty crazy.” I pause. “It’s not like I don’t believe you. It just doesn’t make sense to me. Sebastian has some serious issues and I know he’s never been a fan of mine…especially now…but seriously? I find it hard to believe he’d be stupid enough to follow me…and then what?”

  “I prefer not to think of that…that’s why you’re here and if I had it my way I’d keep you here…at least I’d know you’d be safe.”

  “Okay, I love that you’re so concerned about my safety, but are you even listening to yourself? I know we have our little kidnapping joke, but you wanting to keep me here is a bit bizarre…how long would you like to keep me here?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Forever.” He says nonchalantly and gives me a quick smile.

  “Oh? Now I know you are insane.” I laugh.

  His grin gets bigger. Then it quickly disappears and he looks worried again.

  “You know, I’m joking?” I ask.

  “I know. Are you done?” He glances towards my empty bowl. “Would you like more?”

  “No, thanks. It was delicious…my compliments to the microwaver.” I smile.

  Setting the bowls and our glasses in the sink, he then turns to the iPod system built into the wall, scrolls through the list and hits play. David Guetta’s “Without You” softly flows through the house.

  Coming around the corner of the island, he takes my hand and leads me to the enormous sofa in the living room. We sink into the couch on our sides, stretched out, facing each other. My head rests on my elbow while I gaze at him. Stroking my side with his hand, his expression is soft, serious.

  “More hidden messages with this song?” I smile at him.

  His eyes shine with humor. “I don’t think there are any hidden messages in this one…it’s all pretty straight-forward. And yes, I put this one on your playlist for those very reasons.”

  “It’s a pretty song.” I gaze at him.

  “It is.” He looks lost in his thoughts.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” I say, softly.

  “I’m sorry. I was just trying to picture that person in my head…trying to remember something that would help. I could see the person, dodging in and out of corners. He disappeared briefly and I thought he was gone, but he must have circled around the block because suddenly he appeared again. When we got you in the car, I looked back but he was gone…it was like he vanished into thin air.”