Page 26 of Flirtatious

My head begins to throb with every step down toward the main living area where the six people I hate the most in the world have gathered to make a commotion for some reason. I see Andrea dressed in a white robe pacing back and forth across the living room and wonder if there’s been bad news.

“What’s going on?” I ask, still not fully awake and needing coffee, but curious.

Andrea stops her path across the room a few feet from where I stand and wrings her hands. I notice she looks genuinely worried too.

“Mia’s stalker’s back.”

Stalker? How the fuck is it that the man in charge of protecting Mia hasn’t heard about this goddamned stalker before this? I swear to God these people want to see her hurt.

Suddenly wide awake, I ask, “Back? What do you mean?”

I think if she gives me some nonsensical answer like she does so often when she answers my questions that I’m going to blow a gasket this time. Thankfully, this morning, Andrea seems to be willing to tell all, which saves me from having to show yet again that I have no patience for these people.

“He’s been silent for over a year. Everyone thought that he had just given up. Some of us, including the police, thought that maybe he died. I’d hoped he’d never return, but with her tour coming up, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised,” she says before she turns and resumes her pacing back toward the entrance to the hallway.

“Uh, did any of you even for a moment consider the idea of telling me about this stalker?” I ask, not even trying to hide my frustration at being kept in the dark about this.

Andrea shrugs as she turns around to come back toward me. “We didn’t think it was worth mentioning. I mean, he’s been gone for over a year. Stalkers usually don’t disappear for that long without something bad happening to them, right?”

“Well, you should have told me anyway. How the hell am I supposed to keep Mia safe when I don’t know all the dangers that may be lurking out there? I need you to tell me everything you know about this stalker. I’m serious, Andrea. Leave nothing out.”

She stops in front of me again and sighs. “Okay. As I said, he’s been gone for over a year. Every other time, he would start sending her letters just about a month before she went out on tour. The last time he didn’t, so I thought we were in the clear. But a few hours ago, one of the letters arrived.”

I hold up my hand to stop her before she goes any further. “How? It’s the middle of the night. The post office certainly didn’t deliver it after midnight, and I’m doubting Fed Ex or UPS did either. So how did it get here? Who found it and where?”

Andrea flails her arms in front of her face like she’s trying to shoo away a bug and begins to cry. “I found it. It came in yesterday’s mail, but I didn’t get to look at everything that was delivered until late last night. I found it in the middle of the stack, the same white envelope with a heart drawn where the return address should be. I swear, Liam, my blood ran cold when I saw that because that’s what the stalker always put on the envelopes before.”

Okay, so it did come by mail. That’s good. We can probably find out something from the post office if we have the envelope.

“What did you do with it?” I ask, certain she didn’t call the police. If anything, Andrea would have called someone in the media first.

“I talked to her crew about it and we agreed I should give it to Mia, like I always do. She has it up in her room. She won’t come out. She’s a nervous wreck. Every time before, the letters would start coming and she’d fall apart right before the tour. She’s like that now too. She keeps saying, ‘He’s come back’ over and over. We’re all beside ourselves with worry.”

“Okay. I’m going to go up to talk to Mia. You calm these people down. All this hysteria isn’t going to do your daughter any good. If they keep this up, she’s never going to be in any shape to go out on tour, so get them out of here if they can’t relax.”

Andrea’s mouth drops open in shock. “What do you mean she won’t be able to go out on tour? She has to. Three weeks from now, the first show is scheduled for the pavilion right here in Tampa. She can’t miss the show that kicks off the tour.”

“Then calm down her entourage. How can anyone expect her to perform with all this madness surrounding her?” I say as I start back up the stairs to go speak to Mia.

“This is always how they are, Liam. Mia’s used to it.”

Stopping on the staircase, I glare down at her and snap, “Then she’s been used to being mistreated. Now stop those goddamned people from making all that noise and let me do my job!”

I storm away, already sick and tired of everyone excusing the behavior of the crew. How any of those people, especially her supposed life coach, help Mia accomplish anything is beyond me. They’ve brought nothing but chaos since they arrived, well, except for those moments out near the pool where they were all naval gazing about something or another when I interrupted them.

And why the hell would her mother give her a letter from a goddamned stalker before letting me examine it first? I swear that woman is as bad as Mia’s ridiculous crew. They thrive on turmoil, but what good did she think would come from throwing her daughter into emotional upheaval?

Gently, I knock on Mia’s door, and she barks, “Go away!”

“Mia, it’s Liam. I need to talk to you.”

I get nothing but silence in response, so I repeat myself and add, “I can help with this. I just need you to open the door and let me.”

Still silence. I can understand her fear and even anger at having to deal with this right before she leaves the safety of her home for the road, but I can’t do anything for her if she doesn’t let me in.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, she opens the door only a crack and looks up at me. Her eyes are red, and it looks like she’s been crying.

“You’re still here. People usually get the hint when I go silent on them. Why didn’t you leave?” she asks, clearly confused that someone finally either stood their ground or cared enough to bother to wait.

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