Page 34 of Savage Seduction

"Honestly, it was pretty boring. I had the evening off work, so I did laundry.Isn’t that hot?"

"That depends on… were you doing laundry naked?" I blush at my own question.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Ben teases. "Let’s just say I kept the blinds closed."

"Okay, keep your secrets." I laugh. "Maybe I should bring my laundry to your place from now on? The laundromat I usually use has a strict,No Shirt, No Shoes, No Servicepolicy."

"Gosh, that takes all the fun out of it then."

I smile and feel emboldened by our banter. "Any chance you have dinner plans for tomorrow?"

"As a matter of fact, I don’t."

"Great," I say. "How about we have a redo then? Do you have a preference as to where we go?"

"Other than Taco Caliente?" Ben laughs.

"Definitely," I say. "Anywhere else."

"Okay… I know a nice sushi place downtown. Great food and even better drinks."

"That sounds lovely. What’s the name and what time should I meet you?"

"Delicate Sea. Does seven work for you?"

"Oh, swanky. I’m glad you told me ahead of time, so I dress appropriately."

"I know the owners," Ben says. "Long time family friends. We’ve joked in our family that it's an Italian thing… you know… mafia connections, but my father assured me that’s not the case.”

"Wow, okay. I guess mob connections aren’t all bad,” I say with a smile. “Either way, it’s a good thing. The last time London called to see if we could get reservations, they were taking them for two weeks out."

"It’s definitely considered a hot-spot at the moment. Ever since that article came out in LA Zine about the owner’s family being connected to some Asian organized crime syndicate."

"I saw that. I think it was San Francisco, wasn’t it?" I ask. "Something about the Yakuza."

He laughs. "I believe so. I’m not really up on my mob families, but that does ring a bell."

Silence falls between us, but Ben cuts through it first. "I’m really glad you called."

"Me too."

"Oh, shoot. I hate to cut this call short, but I do have to get going. My work phone is ringing. There’s always an emergency going on somewhere in Los Angeles."

"Okay, I’ll let you go," I say. "And I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven."

"I’m looking forward to it. Bye, Max."

"Bye," I say. The phone call disconnects, and I hug my knees to my chest. Ben is such a good guy. I stand and hurry toward my car parked in the lot behind the museum. The wind suddenly picks up and blows through my hair, causing my shirt to flap in the stiff breeze. Despite the warm evening, I shiver and remember what Bretton had said to me about being followed.

I stop walking and steal a glance behind me. From the periphery, I could have sworn I’d seen something or someone. A shadow? A tree blowing in the wind? Suddenly, all of my senses are on alert. While the breeze muffles the other sounds around me, I swear I hear the sound of a shoe scrape against concrete.

Regretting my decision to leave work before everyone else was done, I tighten my grip on the backpack straps over my shoulders. My car is on the far side of the employee lot which would normally be empty at this hour. Unfortunately, tonight there are at least twenty cars spaced around the area that could make great hiding places for someone following me.

A few more quick steps before I stop again, taking a few seconds to listen for pursuers. I turn in a full circle, taking inevery shadow, tree, bush, and car in view. Am I going crazy? Being paranoid? My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, causing me to jump. Fishing the phone out, I take a quick glance at the message. It's from Ben, saying he's excited to see me tomorrow. Vacillating between fear and pleasure, I put the phone back in my front pocket and double my speed toward the car.

As I approach the Prius, I reach for the door handle but stop short when I notice a reflection in the back window. My breath catches in my chest. Someone is following me, and I see what looks like a man duck behind a car two rows back when I stop moving. I turn to face the direction of my stalker.

"Whoever you are… I see you," I yell out into the night. "Stop following me or I’ll call the police."

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