“Real talk, if I hadn’t gotten that promotion, I might have considered it.” I punched him lightly on the arm. “But, let’s be honest, we both know I couldn’t let a couple of head cases run me out of town.”
“That’s my girl,” he said with a smirk, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close.
“Hold that thought,” I said, pressing a finger to Nick’s lips and pulling my phone from my purse. “I want to Instagram this sunset.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
MAX
One month after that horrible evening when everything unspooled into a bloody mess, Leigh pulled me aside after dinner. Her plain face arranged in a mask of sympathy, she patted my arm as though I were terminally ill and solicitously asked, “How are you doing, Peanut?”
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth, counseling myself not to yank my arm away.
“Really? You’re not still … obsessed with that girl?”
“Of course not,” I said stiffly, because I wasn’t “obsessed” with Audrey.
I had never been obsessed with her. Calling it obsession made it sound dark and one-sided, and that hadn’t been the case at all. I loved her, could feel our connection in every single cell of my being, and she loved me, too. No matter what she said now, no matter what she told that judge, I knew she loved me still. Her soul called out to mine.
But Leigh, who was ordinary in every sense of the word and married to my equally unromantic older brother, wouldn’t be able to understand the transcendent bond between us. None of my family would, and neither would the new therapist my father had arranged. I felt sorry for them, knowing they would never experience the same kind of love, being consumed from the inside out.
Besides, I knew it was only a matter of time before Audrey and I were reunited. Leigh and the rest of them might argue that a restraining order was a clear indication our relationship was over and she never wanted to see me again.
But that wasn’t the case. How could it be, when she continued to open her laptop and stare directly into the camera, biting her plump bottom lip enticingly? They could say she didn’t know about the RAT on her computer, that she had never seen those forum posts, particularly the ones hidden within the VIP section—but then why did she look straight into the camera? Why did she point those sparkling, soulful eyes right at me?
It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. Not when she posted online about her favorite snack, popcorn with Tabasco, a creation I introduced her to. Not when she created a public playlist of her favorite Ted and the Honey tracks and included “Everything,” the song I had told her was my favorite, the song that contained the lines “I’ve done everything for you / everything you ever wanted / everything you never knew.” Not when she continued to drop bread crumbs about her new apartment’s location, like that photograph of the sunset taken from her window.
Not when she still googled my name.
The signs were unambiguous, the conclusion inescapable: Audrey still thought about me. She still loved me. We were still inevitable.
This time, though, I wouldn’t rely so much on fate. I had allowed too much room for error, and everything had fallen apart. I couldn’t let her get away again.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to the brilliant team that helped me transform this story from a pile of loose notes into the novel you are holding in your hands. Massive thanks to my exceptional agent, Lisa Grubka, who has been there for me at every step and who is the best sounding board, beta reader, and advocate I could ever ask for; my outstanding editor, Lauren McKenna, who can always clearly see the story even when I can’t and whose guidance and encouragement were invaluable to this book; Jackie Cantor, for her assistance; everyone at Gallery Books who helped make this book a reality (Jennifer Bergstrom, Maggie Loughran, Meagan Harris, Jessica Roth, Abby Zidle, Bianca Salvant, Anabel Jimenez, Lisa Litwack, Steve Breslin, Jaime Putorti, Caroline Pallotta, Allison Green, Mike Kwan, Jane Elias); everyone at Fletcher & Company who has supported it (Christy Fletcher, Melissa Chinchillo, Gráinne Fox, Elizabeth Resnick, and Brenna Raffe); and Michelle Weiner, Michelle Kroes, and Olivia Blaustein at CAA. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I am also deeply, deeply grateful for the family and friends who continually support and encourage me. My most heartfelt thanks to my husband, Marc Hedrich, without whose unending support none of this would be possible; my mother, Mary Barber, who has always believed in me and who, with my late father, Richard Barber, has always nurtured my creativity; my brother, David Barber, who is always game to bounce around an idea (or a tagline!) and whom I can always count on for sage advice when I start feeling stressed; my in-laws, Philip and Laurie Hedrich, and also AJ Hedrich and Kevin Hedrich, who have all been wonderfully supportive of me; and all the friends and family who encourage my writing. I love and treasure you all. A special thank-you is due to those who came out to watch the baby while I was on deadline (Mom, Phil, Laurie, and AJ), and to the little bear himself for being such an agreeable fellow.
I also have to thank the writing communities that have welcomed me online and off: the crime writers in DC (Ed Aymar, Christina Kovac, Angie Kim, Louis Bayard); the Women’s Fiction Writers Association; the 17 Scribes; and of course Kristin Rockaway, Suzanne Park, and Chelsea Resnick for always being there to celebrate or commiserate via group message. Also a big thank-you to the women who foster online reading communities, notably Kristy Barrett of A Novel Bee; Barbara Bos of Women Writers, Women’s Books; and Andrea Katz of Great Thoughts Great Readers—and to the readers themselves!
Finally, thank you to Hilary-Morgan Watt for taking the time to meet with me and tell me what it’s like to work in a museum—I hope you’re not too horrified by the liberties I took in service of the story! Inaccuracies and fabrications are 100 percent on me. Also, acknowledgments are due to the Murder Is Her Hobby: Frances Glessner Lee and The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death show at the Renwick Gallery, which partially inspired The Life and Death of Rosalind Rose, and to Nate Anderson, the writer of the Ars Technica piece cited in the author’s note that so freaked me out that I wrote a whole book about it.
More from the Author
Truth Be Told
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KATHLEEN BARBER’s first novel, Truth Be Told (formerly titled Are You Sleeping), has been adapted as a series for Apple TV+ by Reese Witherspoon’s Hello Sunshine media company. Kathleen was raised in Galesburg, Illinois, and is a graduate of the University of Illinois and Northwestern University School of Law. She lives in Washington, DC, with her husband and son. Follow Me is her second novel.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Kathleen-Barber
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ALSO BY KATHLEEN BARBER
Truth Be Told (formerly published as Are You Sleeping)
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Gallery Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Kathleen Barber
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First Gallery Books hardcover edition February 2020
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Interior design by Jaime Putorti
Jacket design by Ervin Serrano
Jacket photograph by Rekha Garton/Arcangel Images
Author photograph by Bonphotage
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Barber, Kathleen, author.
Title: Follow me / Kathleen Barber.
Description: First Gallery Books hardcover edition. | New York : Gallery Books, 2020.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019030902 (print) | LCCN 2019030903 (ebook) | ISBN 9781982101985 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781982101992 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781982102005 (ebook)
Classification: LCC PS3602.A7615 F65 2020 (print) | LCC PS3602.A7615 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030902
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030903
ISBN 978-1-9821-0198-5
ISBN 978-1-9821-0200-5 (ebook)
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