being so busy for so long was unsettling.
I started sending out my resume again while keeping in touch with the man from the dating app.
Evan was the most promising candidate so far. He was a physics professor at a good university. His patience had been thoroughly. tested and honed by difficult students. He was a few years older than me and a widower. Because he wasn’t looking for his first marriage, he didn’t mind that I’d had a child before.
We had a dinner date tonight. I spent the afternoon at my desk, applying for jobs and chatting with recruiters online. The clock struck six, and I grabbed my bag and left.
As I exited the building, I saw Evan standing under a tree, holding a bouquet of flowers. He saw me but didn’t move.
I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. “Why are you standing so far away?”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t want your colleagues to see,” he said, handing me the flowers. The restaurant isn’t far. Want to take a
walk? The view by the river is nice.”
He was right. It was nice. Water birds took flight, circling over the banks. The cool air was refreshing.
Evan kept frowning and looking over his shoulder. I followed his gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
1 feel like someone’s watching us,” he said, then joked, “Maybe it’s someone trying to get your number.”
Everything behind us looked normal.
“I don’t see anyone,” I reassured him. “I’m very sensitive to being followed. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Evan nodded. “We’re almost there. Let’s cross the street.”
s were
He put a protective arm around my waist as he told me a funny story about one of his students. It was rush hour, and cars
zipping past.
Suddenly, he stumbled, letting out a grunt of pain. The impact sent me staggering a few steps.
An electric scooter was lying
lying on the ground in front of us. A couple of wiry young men scrambled up, dusting themselves off. They
picked up the scooter and sped away without a word.
Evan was clutching his arm, slightly bent over. The scooter had hit him.
I snapped out of my shock and helped him to a bench on the sidewalk. “Don’t move! We don’t know if you’ve broken anything. We need to go to the hospital”
Every taxi was occupied. Luckily, a rideshare was nearby. His face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Clara,” he said, his voice strained. “Would you mind holding my hand?”
I called the police, then knelt to wipe the sweat from his brow. He leaned his head against my shoulder, taking deep breaths.
We didn’t have to wait long at the hospital. An X–ray showed a dislocated left elbow. After an emergency reduction, he needed a
cast for a few weeks.
I felt terrible. Evan, on the other hand, was trying to laugh it off, “Clara, I’m not dead. But I don’t think I can take you home tonight.”
“Let me take you home.” I said. “I’ll make dinner.”
before nodding
He hesitated for a moment before
Evan lived in faculty housing. The apartment was spacious and tidy. He sat in the living room watching me cook, looking more like a guest than the host. We had a simple dinner. He absolutely refused to let me wash the dishes. We talked late into the night befo-
re he finally let me leave.
It was easy to be with someone like him. He had a respectable social status and a stable job. Being a public employee, he wouldn’t dare cause a scene even if we had marital problems.
I walked toward the parking lot, mentally weighing the pros and cons.
I didn’t notice the black car parked in the shadows, or the person sitting inside.
6
The next day was business as usual. My life had gotten busier. With his arm in a cast, Evan had to rely on food delivery. I started bringing him a home–cooked meal every day to check on his recovery.
Six days left until my last day.
I heard from colleagues that someone from the New York head office was coming to inspect the branch for three days.
Adrian was
as coming too.
I really had been pushed to the fringes. I was the last to know. I was going over the final handover tasks with the new secretary, my mind elsewhere.
My phone vibrated. A text from an unknown number,
Come to the VIP lounge on the 43rd floor. Or I can come find you.
Adrian.
The new secretary tentatively called my name. “Clara, if you’re busy, I can come back later?”
“Sorry, I just have to take care of something. You can look over these for now. finished organizing my past work records and han- ded them all to her.
The 43rd–floor lounge. He was here. I wondered if Chloe was with him. I shook my head, trying to banish the strange pang of long- ng. We’d barely even met
The elevator chimed and the doors opened. The floor was empty. I walked to the lounge and knocked hesitantly.
The door opened a crack immediately. The room was dark.
I stepped inside, fumbling for the light switch. Suddenly, an arm snaked around my waist, pulling me into a hard embrace and pinn- ing me against the door. My face was pressed against the cool wood.
The person behind me was breathing hot and erratically, the scent of alcohol thick in the air.
He spun me around, struggling to keep his balance. I braced my arms against his chest, creating a fist’s worth of distance between
US
This seemed to provoke him.
He seized my wrists and pinned them above my head. My shirt was pulled taut, coming untucked from my skirt. His hand slipped underneath, finding my bare waist without any trouble. His palm was scorching hot.
again
His kisses were messy, desperate. I struggled for air, and he finally let me go, only to capture my lips a gasping breaths.
In the darkness, we were both panting
His voice was hoarse. “Who have you been seeing these past few days?”
after I’d taken a few
That question… he knew I’d been going to Evan’s place. The “accident” immediately flashed through my mind.
“You’ve been following me?” My thoughts started to clear through the oxygen–deprived haze. “Did you have something to do with
Evan getting hurt?”
