Page 107 of One More Heartbeat
Guilt digs deep holes in my gut, knowing I should stay home with Peony in case she wakes up from a nightmare. I hate relying on Athena to do that, even if she’s been there for Peony from day one, whenever she’s had a nightmare.
You’ll only be gone a few hours. You’ll be there if Peony wakes later on.
“So, you and Zara…” The rest of her words are left hanging, the wince in her tone filling the gap.
“Are friends. As you know.” I don’t bother to get her to clarify what she’s really asking. What Zara and I are is not up for discussion. With anyone.
Athena pushes a bite-sized piece of chicken around her plate. “Are you sure about that?” Her attention remains glued on her food.
Peony picks up a chunk of cooked carrot from her unicorn plate and shoves it in her mouth. The toothy grin she flashes at me wraps my heart in a sweet hug. I miss her, and I haven’t left for the trip yet.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I pull out my phone and snap a photo of Peony. She grins at me again, and I snap another photo.
“You’re not posting that on social media, are you?” The frosty snap to Athena’s tone startles Peony and me. Peony stares at her with tearful, round eyes.
I frown, the creases in my brow solely for Athena. “I haven’t posted on social media that I have a daughter, and I have no intention of posting photos of her.” I keep my voice calm so as not to further upset Peony, and I flash her a reassuring smile.
She returns to playing with her food, babbling something I don’t understand.
“Plenty of influencers and authors post family photos on social media to build a connection between themselves and their fans,” I tell Athena. “But I don’t plan to do that. My life is private. Not that it’s your choice if I post about her.”
As far as I know, it’s not public knowledge in town that I have a daughter. Some people might have seen me with Peony, but the news hasn’t made it yet to the Maple Ridge grapevine.
Athena huffs a small, irritated sound. “You’ve posted photos of yourself on the Wilderness Warriors social media accounts,” she counters.
Technically, Avery, who works for us, posts those photos. “Yes, but that’s different. All the people in those photos are adults, and they agreed to be in the pictures. And those photos are on social media for reasons that have nothing to do with my author career.” Such as showing what some of the military veterans have accomplished, despite the challenges they face due to a life-altering injury they got while deployed.
“I am doing everything I can to protect my daughter,” I remind her. I have no idea how the conversation veered so far to the left. But at least we’re no longer on the off-the-wall tangent of Zara and me.
The doorbell rings, saving me from continuing this wayward conversation.
I walk to the front door, at this point happy to see whoever is on the other side of it…even a canvasser.
I swing open the door to find a man standing on the stoop. George and his family live five houses down from me. This is the first time, that I know of, he’s dropped by my house. He’s a contract lawyer and a fan of my books, but whenever we talk, it’s usually in front of his property or mine.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” he says rather cheerfully. “The postal service dropped off a letter for you in my mailbox.” He hands me the envelope. My name and address are typed on it, but there’s nothing to hint who it’s from.
I give him a chin nod and smile. “Thank you. I appreciate you dropping it off.”
“Thought it might be important.” He turns to leave. He’s not the kind of man who likes to pry into people’s lives. He’s not here to fish for intel to feed the vultures, though I’m sure by now there are questions circulating as to why Peony and Athena are living with me.
I shut the door and open the envelope. Inside is a single folded sheet of paper with a typed message.
Garrett,
I just wanted to let you know how excited I am to read your next book. I can’t tell you how many times I dream about you. How many times I touch myself whilereading your words.
I don’t read beyond that. I don’t need to. This is similar to how the stalker began her letters. What concerns me is that whoever sent this knows my address. Usually, letters are sent via my agent. And the ones forwarded to me are vetted first by her assistant.
I’m tempted to crunch the paper up and toss it into the recycle bin. But in case I’m dealing with a new stalker, I’ll give the letter to Noah, so he can keep it on file at the police station, should things progress beyond this one.
I walkwith Kellan and Emily to the elevator after Game Night ends. Lucas, Simone, Troy, and Jess left the apartment not that long ago. Emily needed to talk to Zara about an upcoming wedding Em is coordinating for a client. Zara is catering the event.
“I can’t believe you two lost,” Em says, almost a little too gleefully. “I’ve never seen you and Zara so off your game. Pun intended.”
“We were letting you and Kellan win for once.” I wink at her, and Kellan scoffs. Those two are a force of their own when we’re playing partner games. But then, usually so are Zara and I.
I pat my pockets as the elevator door opens. “Shit. I forgot my phone. Go ahead without me.” It’s on the coffee table…where I purposely left it.
