Page 19 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
“Hey, Ang, it’s me. Sorry if this is a bad time. Sounds like a party.”
“Casey? Hang on. Let me get somewhere quieter.”
I heard her speaking briefly to someone. Several moments later, she was back, and the background noise had disappeared.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.”
“Bullshit. I know you, remember? Who do I need to kill?”
I laughed. Angie always had my back. “No one. Seriously. Are you at a party?”
“Yeah, a football party.”
“Since when do you like football?”
“I don’t. But it’s better than spending the day alone in my apartment.”
Like I was, basically. The difference was, I was perfectly content with spending a Sunday afternoon curled up with a good book. Angie had always been more of a party girl.
“Anyone I know?”
“Kayden McKellan,” she said smugly.
“Kayden McKellan?” I echoed incredulously, glad she couldn’t see me because I was certain my eyebrows reached my hairline.
The über-handsome head of security was six-plus feet of luscious, muscled, auburn-haired Scot and the source of many feminine fantasies. He was also not the polished professional Angie typically set her sights on. I wondered if he had been the one in her bed the last time I spoke to her.
“Oh my God. Is that who was at your apartment when I called?”
“No.” Before I could say anything more, she veered the conversation back to more familiar territory. “So, where are you? Did you move on, like you’d said?”
“No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I’m just …”
“Ready to come home?” she finished. “Because if you are, don’t.”
Alarm bells immediately went off in my head. “Why? Did something else happen?”
“Remember I told you about the flowers that came to the office a few weeks ago? Well, Friday, I came back from lunch, and there was a card sitting on my chair. It had my name on it, but when I opened it up, it said,Did you tell her about the flowers?”
I sucked in a breath. “Oh, Angie. That’s creepy.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
“Who knows that we’re in contact? Did you tell anyone?”
“No, of course not. He’s probably just grasping at straws.”
“I’m so sorry I put you in this position.”
“You didn’t. Your psycho stalker did.”
“You’re being safe, right?”
