Page 57 of Hey, Daddy

I read through the email and rolled my eyes.

“Why would you deny me because I said ‘dam?’” I asked the empty apartment surrounding me. “Seriously, it’s not a bad word! It’s an actual word!”

I’d been given an emergency dam to product test, and I’d written a review about how it was a “perfect dam” for small projects. And they’d denied the review because of profanity.

Jesus.

“How the hell do you expect me to write a review about a dam when I can’t write the word dam?” I grumbled as I went to the review, made a few modifications, and then republished it.

My next step was to go to the comments on my reviews and check them out.

The first review, which happened to be the review on the ice maker I finally got a hold of, was already showing fifteen comments.

I went to it and started scanning the comments, finding no issue with all of them…except one.

I frowned when I saw the very first comment.

ReviewerX: Glad to see you finally got a product to test, and not something more…questionable.

I frowned, then felt my heartbeat start to pound as I realized that maybe this was a bit more than just a random comment.

I pulled out my phone and started to dial Haze, only to realize we’d never exchanged numbers.

Writing out a huge note to tape to the wall across from the camera—in case he actually looked at the camera feed that spied on my living room—I gathered my things and headed for the door.

Today I had a secret shopping experience at a new boutique in town.

I was instructed to wear normal clothing—no dressing up at all—so I left the house in leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and an oversized hoodie that I’d stolen from Dima after his Air Force graduation.

I put on some oversized glasses that would hide the fact that I hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup, and pocketed the Jeep keys—I loved leggings that actually had pockets.

It was as I made it outside that my phone rang.

I answered it, despite the number being unfamiliar to me.

I got a lot of phone calls from random numbers, seeing as I advertised my number on my blog for people to call me if they ever wanted me to play secret shopper for their business.

I got a lot of random calls.

But there was one particular person that I didn’t have a number for that I wanted to call…

“You rang,” Haze drawled.

I wouldn’t look into how excited I was that he was calling me back, but only because he had stalkerish tendencies.

I should probably be way more freaked out, but I wasn’t.

Over the last month, I almost felt…empowered.

I loved that he was watching my every move.

I loved even more that he was obsessed with me like I was with him.

He’d been my every waking and sleeping thought since we’d had our encounter in the bathroom in my favorite fast-food restaurant.

“I see you got my message,” I replied.

“The big, bold ‘CALL ME ASAP’ definitely got the point across,” he said. “I should’ve left you my number.”

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