by J. P. Comeau
I sensed Elena’s relief when she agreed without further argument. “I guess… I mean…that would be wonderful then. I really appreciate you doing this for us. Honestly, I had no idea what to do lately,” she admitted. “The police aren’t very helpful.”
“They need solid evidence. Otherwise, their hands are tied. I can get it… that’s what I do,” I explained. “If he comes around again, we’ll have the evidence law enforcement needs, and he’ll be out of your life for good.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, then Elena said, “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’m going to need to fix Bree’s dinner soon.” I looked down, realizing I was still holding her doll in one hand. “Can I drive you home first?”
I could have said no. I could have told Elena that I had a ride lined up – I didn’t, but I could have called Nate. Instead, I said, “Yes, that would be great, thanks,” because I didn’t want to say goodbye to her - not yet.
Before we left, I checked every window in the house and the locks on the back doors. Then, I scratched my private number on a sticky note and stuck it to the table - making sure Elena knew where it was, just in case. When we stepped outside, I watched as Elena double-locked the front door. Finally, I handed Bree her doll to hold on the ride to my mansion before I got into her car.
When I stepped onto my driveway, I leaned against the car door. Bending low, I suggested, “Hey, I was thinking. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to give me your number too. That way I can let you know the arrangements I’ll be making to secure your home.”
“Uh, sure.” Elena read out her number to me as I entered it into my contacts.
I saved it, zipped the phone back into my armband and waved goodbye to Bree, who waved back. “Thanks for the ride…Elena.” I didn’t know what was so different about her name this time when I said it, but we both sensed the difference.
The evening shadows flitted across Elena’s face. “Thank you for everything…Riker.”
Chapter Six
Elena
At some point in our lives, everyone made a promise they couldn’t keep. It just happened. For example, what if I promised Bree that she could have a cookie, but the last cookie happened to have mold growing on it or something? It wouldn’t be my fault when I broke my promise, because I couldn’t let Bree eat a moldy cookie. But she wouldn’t be happy with me.
I didn’t doubt that Riker could keep his promise to provide security for my house, but I doubted he would. He was probably a busy man who had forgotten all about me by the time he woke up this morning. Besides, he was undoubtedly one of the Hamptons filthy rich. He lived on a pedestal above the average person, his wealth a buffer between him and us.
Riker had seemed angry yesterday – even protective, but I assumed that came with working security. He had done his civic duty by helping me out, but he had no obligation to offer anything more.
“I made sliced strawberries,” I told Bree coaxingly, putting them in a bowl and tilting it so she could see the bright red fruit. “Don’t you want some?”
Bree shook her head and tossed a toy block across the room. “Play!”
I knew what play meant, and it didn’t mean play with me. Bree had grown accustomed to seeing the kids at the daycare five mornings a week. Then she became confused when she didn’t get to see her friends on Saturdays and Sundays.
Sometimes, this made me happy, because I didn’t want Bree to feel sad or alone when she went to daycare. Other times, it made me feel less…needed.
I needed to shake those conflicting thoughts from my mind and deal with Bree’s obstinate mood. Of course, Bree needed me. She was only two-and-a-half years old. Even when she was older, she would still need me. She was the only person in my life who always would, actually. Friends and men would come and go, but Bree would always be my little girl, and I would always be her mother.
Bree calmed down, and I had a chance to sit for a few minutes and grab some breakfast in the form of a toasted English muffin with butter. I needed to figure out a good way to get Bree’s mind off the weekend schedule change, so I could take care of some chores around the house. And I needed to figure out what to do about Oscar.
My muffin plate hit the sink harder than I intended. What was I supposed to do about my ex? The police should do their job and keep him from bothering – from threatening – my child and me. Like I had told Riker, I couldn’t afford a security system. And if Oscar confronted me outside again, a home alarm wouldn’t help me anyway.
Riker might forget his promise, but I could remind him. I had his number, right there on the table. One quick call, and as he had said, he would handle everything.
I put the idea out of my mind. That was what Riker had said, yes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had an excuse as to why he couldn’t keep his word this morning.
I didn’t know what to do, but I did know one thing – I wasn’t staying in this house all day with an antsy toddler, worrying about Oscar’s next move.
On Friday I had gotten paid, meaning I could afford to buy a couple of new things for Bree and even one or two for myself if I found some good deals. Maybe I would also take her to try that new Chinese place near my work. They had mac and cheese on the kid’s menu - Bree’s favorite.
I got ready to leave. After hunting for a cloth bag and some of Bree’s things to fill it, I dressed her as well as myself and threw on a minimal amount of make-up. Leaving the house was quite a process now that I had a daughter. Grabbing my purse and phone before sauntering to the car was no longer an option.
Finally, I slipped on Bree’s tiny sneakers. Picking up my bag with one hand and Bree with the other arm, I carried them to the front door and paused.
This was it. This was the part of the day I had been dreading. Inside, we were safe. Oscar might have been a creepy stalker, but I doubted he would try to break in the house in broad daylight. But outside… that was a different story. My house was no longer a safe haven for my daughter and me. Oscar could be lurking anywhere, waiting for us to go somewhere - like yesterday. With Bree in my arms, it would be difficult to run or push him away.
I peered through the windows for several moments, watching the ocean breeze brush the feathery tops of the tall grasses and wreak havoc with stray leaves and loose sand. Nothing was stirring outside except nature.
A deep breath helped me square my shoulders, and I marched out the door. With the bag in the crook of my elbow, I was prepared to swing it as hard as I could if need be. And my other arm gripped Bree to my hip tighter than usual as I headed for the car.
Nothing happened. Oscar must have decided to do something with his life aside from stalking me today.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I situated Bree in her car seat, locked the front door, and then we were on our way. I hated how I sighed in relief when I glanced up in the rearview mirror and watched my house fade in the distance. Our home had been my beautiful beachside sanctuary for years, and now I couldn’t be comfortable inside without pulling curtains tighter, checking locks and eyeing the once-lovely scenery with distrust.
Oh well. I’d figure it out. I always did. I had been through some hard times with college and finding a job after, then moving into the living situation I had now, but I had always managed to get along alright.
Ringing interrupted my stream of thought, and I couldn’t help but jump a little since I had stopped at a light, and Bree was sitting so quietly. The number was unknown, but that wasn’t uncommon due to my job. “Hello?”
“Hello, Elena. It’s Riker.”
“Oh, hello,” I managed to respond, thoroughly surprised by Riker for the second time in two days. “How are you?” The naturally programmed response sounded normal enough.
“I’m fine, but that’s the question I called to ask you,” Riker said. “Did you have a safe night?”
If you don’t count lying in bed wide awake for hours, listening to every tiny noise, yes. “I did, actually.”
“That’s great,
and you can count on being safe tonight, too. I’m assigning a private security detail to surveil your property starting this evening. And someone will be there every night. If this Oscar guy shows up… and I’m betting he will. We’ll have the evidence to put him behind bars.”
Riker’s voice sounded matter-of-fact. He had clearly thought this through and probably already made the arrangements. “I’m not very familiar with security and how it works,” I ventured. “What exactly does a private security detail do?”
“A private security detail is a man in a van, basically,” Riker explained. “Two men will come to your house this evening and introduce themselves. First, they’ll set up a few cameras… And, don’t worry, they won’t invade your privacy. Then, one of them will leave until it’s time for his shift to start. The other guy will park the van somewhere on that secluded road beside your property that leads to the beach… and… well… watch and wait. You don’t need to worry about him. In fact, you don’t need to worry about anything at all. If he sees something suspicious, he’ll take action.”
Ordinarily, I would have felt strange about the idea of someone I didn’t know watching me and my house 24/7, but anything that would keep Oscar from sneaking around my property and scaring us sounded perfect. “That’ll be wonderful, thank you,” I said enthusiastically. Maybe tonight I would get a good night’s sleep. “I really, really appreciate this. That’s one safety concern I don’t have to think about anymore.”
“Are there others?” The worry in Riker’s voice made my heart skip a beat.
“I can’t child-proof everything,” I told him, remembering Bree’s escapade toward the ocean
“How old is she...three?”
“Close. Two and a half. She’s just starting to ask a lot of questions. Do you – do you have kids?” Something hit me like the stray, airborne leaf that had just smacked into my windshield. I was having a normal conversation with Riker, not a talk about the security for my house or an apology battle.
“Nope. I guess you could say I haven’t found the right person yet.”
After listening to Oscar talk and manipulate, I had developed a decent ear for lies. What Riker had said didn’t sound like a lie – not exactly – but it didn’t sound like the whole truth either. My thumbs rubbed the steering wheel under my hands, remembering the hurt that I had seen in his eyes when we met at work. “Maybe the right person just hasn’t found you yet,” I joked, trying to lighten his mood a little.
“Could be, but I don’t believe in sitting back and waiting for good things to happen. I’m more of a go-getter. Comes with growing up with parents who owned an international business.”
I found that easy to believe. Riker oozed with confidence, and I had already seen how protective he could be of someone he didn’t even know. The people he cared about - whomever that might be - were lucky to have him.
Awkwardly shifting the phone to my other hand, I pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. Opening the door but not getting out yet, I explained, “Hey, Riker, thank you for everything, but I’ve got to go. I don’t think I can juggle a child and a phone at the same time, and I have to get Bree out of the car so we can do some shopping. But really, thank you so much. It feels awesome knowing that I don’t have to worry tonight.”
“Tonight or any night,” Riker promised. “I’ll text to make sure you’ll be home when my team is ready to head out to your place.”
We said our goodbyes, and I turned to my impatient and curious daughter so we could get this day of shopping going. My mind was no longer on clothes and toys, though. It was back on the first time I had seen Riker, standing out on the beach and staring out over the waves.
Come on, Elena. Don’t get your hopes up. Didn’t you learn anything from Oscar? The handsome ones always seem so attractive at first, both physically and personality-wise. Then things always go downhill. Don’t fool yourself.
Besides, there was no way Riker didn’t have a girlfriend. I did believe that he genuinely cared about my safety, probably because of Bree’s adorable face. A billionaire couldn’t possibly be interested in me beyond apologizing for his rudeness with a security detail he could easily provide.
Oh well. Now, I probably wouldn’t hear from Riker again, except to let me know about the “man in the van,” as he had put it. My surprise protector surely had better things to do than keep track of me. But it quickly became apparent that I needed to stop trying to predict Riker’s actions.
On Sunday morning, Riker texted me with a friendly Good morning! How’d things go last night?
Of course, I had told him that both his employees had been courteous and friendly as they went about their business and that Saturday night was the safest I had felt in a while.
Oh, Elena, one more thing, he had replied.
Yes?
You’re a kind person, so I feel like I have to warn you not to bring the security guards anything to eat or drink. They stock up for themselves, and it could draw attention to them.
Instead of feeling embarrassed, I laughed aloud. I had actually planned to do that later that afternoon when it started getting hot. Bree and I would be sitting in the air conditioning drinking lemonade, so I had figured I would share at least some of the lemonade. Okay, I responded, got it. Definitely wasn’t planning to do that.
I bet. Even on a screen, the text had come across as smug, but I had to smile anyway.
Texting turned out not to be an isolated incident. We chatted on and off throughout the workweek, sometimes about nothing at all and other times about deeper, more meaningful topics.
I liked the first kind of conversation. I loved the second. When Riker, and I began talking about things that really mattered in the world and about people in general, his words became serious, thoughtful, and reflective. He had an incredible knack for taking a complex subject and using just a sentence or two to show me his thoughts.
Today was Tuesday morning. It had been ten days since Riker had come to my rescue, and this is what he texted me.
There’s a timer on who we are right now, and we can only go on being who we are until the timer runs out and we change.
The idea was absolutely fascinating, and I ended up sitting in the break room at the law office throughout my entire lunch break, pondering the idea and trying to place why it resonated with me so well.
Poetry! The answer struck me when I looked through my handbag for my chapstick and noticed my poetry notebook instead. Or rather, poetic. That was the word I had been searching for to describe Riker’s words all along. The brevity of his statements, the deep thought behind them and the abstract comparisons he often used all reminded me of my own passion for linking words, emotions, and physical things through poetry.
This evening after work when I texted Riker, I remarked about his writing style and his thought earlier in the day, saying jokingly, That sounds almost poetic.
Not poetic. I just think a lot.
“Okay, sorry!” I murmured aloud, a little thrown off by his response. We had been joking back and forth, and this abrupt dismissal of what I thought had been a cute comment felt out of character for him. Whatever. He probably just didn’t like the idea of sounding poetic, not when he was a big bad billionaire who worked security.
Me too. About things like glasses of wine, breaks from work and downtime with Bree, I texted back after a moment. Can’t wait for the weekend.
I’m only in town on Fridays and weekends, but I wish I could stay in the Hamptons all the time. The ocean beats skyscrapers.
Languidly, I reached for the bottle of that wine I had mentioned and poured myself a second glass, searching for something to say. Got any interesting weekend plans?
I had plans on Friday. My friends bailed on me.
I set down the bottle and the newly-filled glass, a tingle of cautious excitement running through my fingers. Most people I know get off work later than me on Friday, so I always end up just going home. That was good, right? That should tell Riker that I wasn�
�t busy in the evening on Friday, but it also wasn’t too suggestive, just in case my wild hunch - or desperate hope - was unfounded. His next message came swiftly, but I took my time in reaching for my phone, suddenly nervous.
Well, if you’re not busy, we could meet for dinner, so I can tell you more about how your security detail works.
My nervousness transformed into euphoria. If Riker wanted to talk to me about security, he could call and do that anytime. This wasn’t about his security arrangement. That would be great. My own enthusiasm surprised me. After all, the first time I had met Riker, he yelled at me. But…I just had a good feeling about this - about Riker. And, honestly, I wanted to see him again. His ripped arms and bulging chest, wide, even smile, short, and side-swept hair made a pretty good view…and left me imagining what was under the shirts that hugged his muscles.
Good, it’s a date. If you’re okay with that, of course?
Well, now I didn’t have to wonder. Blunt was best, but I was glad he hadn’t said this over the phone. I wasn’t sure I would have been able to form a coherent sentence if he had. As it was, I had time to take a few good sips of wine before I replied, the wine giving me the confidence to send an answer I normally wouldn’t have. I was just about to ask you. I’d love to make it a date.
Perfect. We’ll work out the details later this week.
I wanted to say something back, but I needed to wait until I made a quick phone call. “Hi, Payton…Yeah, I’m doing fine, things have been pretty quiet, actually…Hey, can you pick up Bree from the daycare after work and keep her for a few hours Friday evening? I have…” I paused suddenly. I had been so busy getting things done around the house and working that I had forgotten to tell Payton about how Riker was protecting Bree and me from Oscar. All she knew was that he had yelled at me on two different occasions and acted like a jerk.
Rather than explain everything now, I just said, “I have a date. Yes, with a man around my age. I need to go, but I’ll tell you about it this weekend if it goes well, okay? So about Bree… Okay, awesome, thanks! Bye.” After Payton agreed to watch Bree on Friday, I hung up and sat back to text Riker. By the way, it’ll just be us on Friday. A friend is watching Bree.