Page 29 of Boss with Benefits

"Why are you here?" I asked again, the tension between us loosening.

Derrick glanced at the front door like he was searching for the words. But then he stepped forward, pressing his face against the glass, alarmed.

Suddenly, he shoved through the door, hollering at someone. "Hey! You! Stay there."

I followed Derrick's gaze and gasped. He was there, across the street. My stalker. I hadn't seen him in weeks but there he was, hiding behind a tree.

In a flash, Derrick jetted across the busy road, dodging cars.

"Derrick. Don't!" I yelled, thinking the guy could have a gun or something. But then I remembered Derrick was an ex-cop and knew what he was doing, and I shut my mouth.

The man ran down the street, and I followed in the same direction on the other side of the road as Derrick booked it after him. I was dodging pedestrians, flower beds, and leashed dogs, trying to keep them in sight.

The man darted between two parked cars, but Derrick snatched the neck of his shirt and yanked the guy back to the sidewalk.

When I crossed the street, Derrick had the man on the ground, with his hands twisted behind his back.

"Call 911," Derrick said to me, holding the guy's arms in a tight grip.

"Wait," the guy spoke against the sidewalk, his head sideways. His hat had been knocked off, and I saw I was right. He was Eastern Asian, possibly Chinese. "I'm not bad guy."

"Why are you following me?" I yelled, the adrenaline from the chase spurring my anger. "Who are you?"

"Rachel, shut up and call the police," Derrick said. People were gathering, phones out, recording. Derrick yanked the man to his feet and pushed him forward. "Come on. Let's go."

"Where?" I asked, running alongside him.

"The studio. Less gawkers."

My fingers shook, and I couldn't unlock my phone. Finally, I got it open and dialed, but before I could press the call button, the man spoke.

"You look like her." The man stared intently at me. His eyes were filled with tears, and he didn't look dangerous. He looked like a man who had found something precious that he’d lost.

"Who?" I asked.

"My daughter. Your mother."

15

DERRICK

Ishuffled Rachel and the man inside the studio, away from the phones and curious onlookers. Rachel hadn't spoken since the man's declaration, and I was concerned she was in shock.

"What's your name?" I asked, holding the man's arm hard enough that he couldn't escape but not hard enough to bruise.

"Hao Lin. I don't mean to scare. I worry you don't want to see me," the man said with an accent I presumed was Chinese, his English broken and stilted. I glanced at Rachel, but she showed no recognition of the name.

"Who's your daughter?"

"Jessica Lin." Hao stepped toward Rachel, but I held him back.

Life stirred behind Rachel's baffled expression.

"How did you find me?" Rachel asked, standing taller, her brain clicking on.

"I hire a private detective. She found you."

Rachel lowered herself onto the small sofa in the lobby.

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