Page 27 of Flirtatious

“Since your entourage woke me up in the middle of the night and I’m wide awake now, I figured I’d hang out. Can I come in?”

Mia steps back and opens the door wide for me to walk in, saying as I pass, “You wake up every day at five, Liam. It’s not like my people woke you up that much earlier than you usually get up.”

Surprised she knows my schedule, I smile as she shuts the door and walks over to flop down on the king size bed in the middle of the room. “Well, those fifteen minutes are precious.”

She rolls her eyes and covers them with her arm. “I know what you’re going to say, and you didn’t have to bother coming up here to say it.”

“What’s that?” I ask as I glance around her room with its pale pink walls.

“That the police will find this guy and it will all be okay. Well, they won’t and it won’t, so if that’s all you have to say, just go now and save us both the trouble.”

“That’s not what I came up here to say.”

For a long moment, she doesn’t respond, but then she lowers her arm and sits up to look at me. “Really? That’s what Michael usually told me.”

“And I told you Michael was a moron. You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anyone harm you. I promise. I just need to see the letter.”

Mia stares at me with a blank look for a few seconds and then asks, “Is that what you wear to bed? Who wears gray sweatpants to bed? By the way, don’t let Mitchell see you in them or you’re going to have your own personal stalker living less than a hundred yards away from you.”

I don’t try to stifle my laughter at what I think is her attempt at being cute. “I’ll keep that in mind, and no, I don’t wear these to bed. Now where’s the letter?”

Pointing at the dresser on the other side of the room, she says, “Same as always. I guess there’s something comforting in the fact that he never changes.”

The first thing I notice is the envelope has no return address and a red heart outline drawn on the top left-hand corner instead, just as Andrea had described. What it does have is what every letter that’s been through the post office must have—a barcode that will tell us where it was mailed from, hopefully, or at least what post office handled the letter.

Turning around, I look down at Mia and motion toward the bed. “Mind if I take a seat.”

“Mi cama es tu cama.”

As I sit down next to her, I ask, “Do you speak Spanish fluently?”

“No. I know the basics. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I screwed some of that up. I learned from the maid my mother brought in when I was thirteen. My tutors couldn’t get me to learn anything in Spanish, and trust me, they tried, but Isobel had a natural ability to teach me. I can read it much better than I can speak it.”

Interesting. I hadn’t pegged Mia for someone who’d take an interest in anything like speaking a foreign language.

“Okay. Here’s the good news. See these little lines on the bottom of the envelope? That’s a bar code. I’ll be able to find out at least where this letter was before it came here, and hopefully, that will give us some clue.”

“Really? Then why didn’t the cops ever find that out all the other times I got a letter.”

“No idea. Maybe they didn’t get the envelope?” I ask, wondering why they wouldn’t have been able to at least learn that detail.

Mia rolls her eyes again. “That would explain it. My mother probably threw it out and only handed them the letter itself. Speaking of which, it’s the same as always. Again, some comfort in the status quo, I guess.”

While I read over the actual letter, I mumble, “I guess.”

Her stalker doesn’t say much. The letter in its entirety is comprised of only two actual sentences. Your mine and always will be Mia. I will see you soon.

Not exactly Shakespeare.

“Well, I’m guessing your stalker is a male and young. The misspelled you’re as your gives that away. Not that there aren’t women who would misspell that, but my money is on a man. Not too old, though.”

I glance over and see Mia smiling. “At least it’s not some creepy old dude with a bald head and missing teeth.”

Shaking my head, I chuckle. “I can’t say if he’s a toothless wonder or if he has summer teeth. I’m just saying it’s a male.”

She tilts her head to the side a little and looks at me with confusion in her eyes. “Summer teeth?”

“Yeah. Summer there and some are not. Summer teeth.”

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