Page 42 of Rayna's Daddy

She sat the empty plate on the tray.

I slowly back away. I wasn’t going to take my eyes off this woman. She might try to dump me in the trash, too. When she disappeared down the hallway toward Kyler’s room. I tiptoed down the hallway, in the opposite direction to Kyler’s office, where it was safe.

I flipped through a book on The Quadrangle and waited.

Two hours later Patrick texts me.

Patrick: She’s gone. Coast is clear.

Rayna:

I walked back to the living room. The faint smell of ammonia filled the air. I went into my room. I had made my bed, but it had been stripped and remade.

And that’s how the next few days went.

Breakfast followed by a chat with Patrick about nothing. When he left, I walked the apartment ending up in Kyler’s office. It smelled like him and made me feel safe. The afternoon was more of the same, dinner, and an exchange with Patrick before reading in my bed. Kyler arrived back home late and went straight to his room.

The next morning would be another note, vaguer and more emotionless than the one the day before. I wouldn’t be surprised if Joan was writing them for him.

I’d text him and he would answer my questions but wouldn’t engage or elaborate.

It was like the afternoon we spent together, and the kiss never happened. I feel his hands on me and his lips on me. I dreamed about him every night and woke up with his image in my thoughts.

It was torture.

I had to get his attention.

Bright and early Thursday morning, the alarm blares its shrill, unwelcome trill at 6 am. The sun is not even up yet, and a quick peek through the blinds reveals it is pitch black outside. Rifling through the few belongings I possess, I decide on a cropped t-shirt, with a denim skirt. A pair of white knee highs, showing off bright green stripes – paired with white Chuck Taylor’s complete the look. Bonus points? It was the outfit I was wearing that very first day we met. Grabbing a brush, a quick flick of my wrists leaves my hair in two-pig tails curled up on the ends. A swipe of gloss, and I was ready to meet the world. Even though Kyler was specific about the kitchen, the coffee maker was hopefully not off limits since I did smell the bitter brew some mornings. Grabbing a mug, I brewed a pot, then grabbed the iPad, plopping down on the couch to await the nefarious arrival of the man who was a mystery. Thirty minutes later, his door opened. I held the tablet up in front of my face.

He walked down the hall and stopped.

Got him.

“Rayna,” he said.

“I made coffee.” My voice remained even, but my heart raced. I twirled a pigtail around one finger to calm me. It didn’t work.

“What are you doing up so early?” He continued into the kitchen and poured himself a cup.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I sat the tablet down and my insides flipped. He was so beautiful. His black slacks hugged his thighs. His crisp white button down was open at the collar and showed the edge of a black tattoo. He had a black jacket slung over his shoulder. “I thought we could have breakfast together.”

He sipped his coffee. He looked in the cup and sipped it again.

“This is good.”

“I have a secret ingredient.” I stood and leaned across the counter. Squeezing my boobs together as much as possible. “You want to know what it is?”

He peaked and then averted his eyes, but I saw it. The desire. It was unmistakable. It filled the room up and made me warm all over.

“I put a pinch of salt and cinnamon in the grounds.” I picked up the phone. “What would you like for breakfast?”

He pulled out his phone and frowned.

“I’m sorry, Rayna, but I have an early meeting.”

“Okay, well, how about lunch?”

“Afraid I’ll be gone all day.” He took a big gulp of his coffee and sat the mug in the sink. “I’ll be in LA but will be back tonight. If you need anything, let Joan know. Okay?” He barely looked at me as he headed toward the door.

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