Page 177 of Rage

Did my alarm system just disarm and arm itself?

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” I hear an exasperated voice say on the other end. They must have been speaking while I was listening to my alarm system go haywire. “Hi, yes, could you please send someone to 409 Cornelia Avenue? I-I feel like I’mbeing watched, and someone may even be in my home. P-please send someone,” I say with a sob.

Within five minutes, flashing lights pull up in front of my home, and I wait for the police to ring the doorbell. I run to open it, feeling eyes watching me from every hallway I pass.

As I throw open the door, the officer behind it looks me up and down, his eyes bulging as he introduces himself. Wondering what he’s looking at, I glance down, only to realize I never put a shirt on when I changed clothes. Here I am, standing in the doorway of my home in sweatpants and a forest-green lace bra that’s completely see-through. I throw my arms around myself as I explain what’s going on.

A few minutes later, two additional squad cars arrive, and officers search my house for any intruders while I wait with two officers outside.

“All clear,” a female cop calls from the front door.

Dread and embarrassment wash over me when I realize I may have been overreacting. Tears rim my eyes as I hang my head and mutter an apology to the officers nearby.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I’d rather you be safe than regret it later,” the pretty brunette chimes from beside me. “Call us anytime you need to.”

I thank the officers from my doorway before putting all three locks in place and setting my alarm system to “home” mode. After everything, I now have zero appetite. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I climb upstairs, turn on my favorite television show, and bury myself underneath the covers.

After tonight, I decide it’s a good idea to hire a therapist to help with my paranoia. I can’t live like this anymore.

My attention returns toThe O.C. on the TV as Seth is finally asking Summer out on a date. There’s nothing more comforting than watching your childhood crush in all his glory.

And just like that, my dreams consume me in the late hours of the night.

Chapter Two

I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so excited to wake up at six in the morning for work. And it was worth it, because by nine I’m already relaxing at my desk after nailing my yearly roundup presentation. Today marks my final evaluation for getting the promotion I’ve been working my ass off the past five years to receive. I started working for Stark Financial right after graduating college. One of the higher-ups, the Chief Marketing Officer, subtly hinted that she heard the CFO position is mine without all out saying it. As long as I could provide strong financial prudence and profitability strategies for the upcoming fiscal year, that is. At the end of my presentation, she gave me a discreet wink before clapping with the rest of the long table filled with other important people.

After following up on a few emails, I decide to take my first break of the day. I reward myself with a quick trip to the corner bakery, and then head back to my office to finish the rest of my afternoon agenda. Halfway through my second sip of coffee, I realize Ross hasn’t even wished me good luck for my presentation. He has known about it for a month, and he couldn’t even send a simple text. Frustration gets the best ofme as I crack the pen in my other hand, sending jet-black ink splattering across my lavender blouse.

I’m jumping out of my seat to try to do damage control on the mess I’ve created as Janna pokes her head around the door to let me know I have a special delivery. Noticing my issue, she lets me know she has an extra blouse in her car. Before grabbing it, she pads over to my desk and places a large flower arrangement of three dozen peach roses and baby’s breath next to my computer. My eyes wander to the top where a mini envelope is poked into the blooms.

“Ross really does know how to treat a lady,” she comments with a bright smile, before running out the door to fetch the extra blouse from her car. I offer her a forced smile back before thanking her and grabbing the card as she exits my office.

Picking up my phone, I quickly dial Ross' number to thank him for the gift. I’m interested to see if he sent them for all the canceled dinner dates or as good luck for my meeting.

The phone rings for so long, I almost hang up before he finally answers. “Hey babe, I’m in a meeting. Could I give you a call back?” he asks, exasperated as usual, as if I’m the biggest burden resting on his shoulders at all hours of the day.

“Sure, no problem. I was just calling to say thank you for the flowers. I’m shocked you even knew these were my favorite.”

The line goes silent for a moment. “You there?” I ask in confusion.

“I didn’t send any flowers, Mavis,” he deadpans on the other end.

My eyes go wide at his statement as the hand holding the small card instantly begins to shake. I quickly open the mini envelope, and the room begins to spin as I read the immaculate handwriting written in bright blue ink.

“Babe, are you there? Is there a card with it?” Ross asks in a panic, before I quickly hang up and fall back in my leather chair.My breaths become shallow as I read over the note again and again, trying to process what it means.

My phone is a constant buzz in the background—I’ve already missed three calls from Ross. My mind keeps telling me to answer it, but my hands won’t release the tiny white card in their grasp.

Just as I’m about to pass out from panic, Janna comes back through my office door, chattering about a new brunch spot before she notices that my face is one of dread. Dropping the blouse on my desk, she rushes to my side. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did you take your anxiety medication today?” She rushes the questions out before I can even answer one. My best friend takes better care of me than my own fiancé.

Without a word, I slide the card over to her. After reading it, she looks back at me. “What’s the big deal? You don’t like Ross to watch you sleep?” she asks with a nervous giggle.

I shake my head “no” before thrusting the card back at her. “The flowers aren’t from Ross, and that’s not his handwriting,” I say in a low whisper. Janna almost topples over at my statement, and we both lean over the card to read it again.

You looked beautiful while sleeping last night. Sweet dreams, Duchess.

- Z

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