Page 13 of Waste
“Fine.”
“Shelley… I know—”
“Don’t, Jo. Please stop mentioning the attack. I’ve no intention of suing the company, so quit worrying. While the head office messed up our security, lessons have been learned, and hopefully nothing similar will happen again.”
“I’m not asking for that reason, Shelley. Sure, head office was concerned, but I actually care,” Jo replied, and Shelley felt small.
“Sorry,” Shelley apologised, and then she realised she was talking to Jo, and Jo had just played her.
“It’s okay. It’s just I noticed that you’ve been so quiet; the attack harmed you in more ways than one.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I refuse to be a tragic victim. Jo, he tried to kill me, but didn’t. I survived.”
“I understand,” Jo said, and Shelley nodded. She doubted Jo realised what Shelley had suffered. She was rather self-absorbed.
A light lit in Jo’s eyes. “Hey, eye candy coming in.”
Shelley smiled. It was common knowledge that Jo was looking for a rich husband. She was a notorious flirt.
“I fancy a white coffee, please,” a deep voice said, and Jo beamed.
“Sugar and what milk would you like?” she tittered.
Shelley rolled her eyes and caught the gaze of the customer. An amused look appeared in his eyes as he replied to Jo.
“Anything else?” Jo openly flirted, and the guy shook his head.
“No, thank you. How much?” he asked Shelley.
She rang his purchase up, and he gave her a ten-pound note. “Keep the change,” he stated, taking his order and heading to a seat.
“Oh, my God, that was Drew Martin, and I think he likes me!” Jo exclaimed quietly as she grinned brightly at him.
Drew Martin? Not likely. Why on earth would one of the most current, hottest country singers be in a small coffee shop in England? Despite that, Shelley wondered how Jo had missed him rolling his eyes. He smiled at Shelley and sipped his drink. Shelley offered a cool but polite smile in return and served the next customer.
Chapter Four.
Drew/Ghoul
He watched as Shelley served one customer after another. She was polite and friendly, but not overly so. To him, it appeared she was diminished. There was a definite vibe of distance she was putting out. The other woman, who was rather annoying, kept sending Drew flirtatious glances, and he really wasn’t interested. She seemed cheap to Drew, not that he was a snob. There was a certain type of female who wanted rich husbands, and she’d clearly marked Drew as having money, or worse, she’d recognised him.
Drew ignored her as he drank his coffee and watched Shelley. She appeared a little pale, and he worried she might be ill. Shelley glanced his way several times, and he saw worry appear on her face. Damn! Drew guessed what Shelley was thinking: was he another stalker?
Drew rose to his feet and walked to the serving counter.
“Was your drink okay?” the annoying woman twittered; her name was Jo.
“Fine. This is forward of me, but I wondered if you’d like my number? I’d ask for yours, but women can’t be too careful nowadays,” Drew stated.
“I’d love your number; how thoughtful of you to consider my safety!” Jo exclaimed and puckered her lips as she batted her eyelashes at him.
“Sorry, that wasn’t for you, but for Shelley,” Drew said, and Jo’s mouth opened in shock.
“Shelley? Oh, Shelley won’t want your digits. She hadan incident,” Jo hissed the last two words. “Shelley won’t date anyone for a good while.”
Shelley blushed, and then the blood leeched from her face.
Drew gave Jo a scathing glare. “It’s okay, you can say no. If something bad happened, it would make even more sense for me to give you mine. After all, anybody could be a stalker.”
