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      What's wrong with this picture? I shot looks at the clock, Richard's shoulders as he tapped at my computer, even the immaculate short pile carpet beneath my feet. The sheen of the glass counter top on which sat the till and a credit card machine.
      "I'm just gonna use the WiFi to hook you up to the internet, make sure everything's working properly," Richard said, and his voice made me jump.
      "Fine, fine, just don't take long. I don't have all day," I muttered, only half-listening.
      A quiet laugh and he turned back to the computer. "I managed to save all your documents and photos."
      Something didn't fit. My brain contained all sorts of information but didn't make the connection. The fact we were alone, everything was quiet, he'd just said he'd—
      Oh God.
      Oh fuck no.
      My blood ran cold. I'd never thought it was possible for that to happen; I'd always believed it was a cliché, but if ever my spine turned to a two foot long icicle it did then.
      The inflection in the last word photos.
      Memories flooded back like my brain's hard drive had been cleared of a virus and all information was now freely readable.
      "Yep. All your data is safe. Right down to the last snapshot." His voice, no longer playful, was a chilling monotone as I thought of the photos liable to arouse interest in someone who happened to see them.
      "So!" he said, raising his voice sharply, making me jump. "How long you been seeing Leo?"
      Confused at this sudden change of subject although reasoning this was part of his game to keep me on my toes, I took a few moments to compose myself. "Uh...we're not. Well, I mean..."
      "Yeah, he said he hadn't known you for long. But he didn't tell me much about you. Just said you were some chick he'd met in a bar one night, so I assumed..."
      "You assumed what?" My voice, much firmer than I'd expected, surprised even me.
      "Nothing, nothing..." Richard held up his palms in a gesture of passive-aggressive innocence, his voice edging up an octave. "I just wondered if you were seeing him or if it was just a fling. Mind you, you know what Leo's like. Fuck anything that moves, that boy would. Although, having said that..." Richard continued to tap away at my keyboard, and I tapped my foot. "He must really like you. It's not every one of his conquests who gets a request for a discount. He usually just mentions names, when he remembers them that is, in passing, and the next week he moves on to someone new..."
      My heart thudded against my ribcage.
      When in fear the human body goes into a state of heightened awareness.
      Blood pounded in my ears as a backbeat to the conversation.
      "There you go, love. All set." Richard pressed a few more keys and I assumed he was waiting for the computer to shut down. "Right. Well as you're a friend of Leo's I'll knock a few quid off the cleanup for you." Richard thrust his hands into his jeans pockets as he sidled over to me and my gaze shot from the computer, to him, back to the computer. Still looking for something.
      He should have brought the laptop over with him, I decided. So is he expecting me to go over and pick it up?
      Still unsure of why I didn't want to step over into the 'workshop', I eyed him as he neared me, hands still in pockets and this made me shudder.
      He lingered at my side, not making any move to step behind the counter and open up the till. "So, Leo's not your proper boyfriend, then?"
      I had to crane my neck to look up at his face, he was so close. Invading my personal space. No doubt deliberately. His hands at last came out of his pockets where I could see them.
      "I fail to see why that's any of your concern."
      "Just curious, just curious, that's all. Like I said, Leo
didn't tell me much about you, just—"
      "Then there must have been a reason for that, mustn't there?"
      "Sheesh, he didn't tell me you were so secretive."
      "There's nothing secretive about wanting to keep your private life private."
      "Honey, after what I found on your hard drive there's nothing about you that's private."
      My entire being jolted into a state of disbelief.
      He didn't just say that.
      He couldn't have just said that.
      He certainly didn't just pat me on the backside.
      I spun round on my heels to face him, not wanting him at my back or anywhere I couldn't see him. The look on my face must have telegraphed my amazement because he faltered, his brow furrowing.
      "Um... I, uh... well..." He patted the air gently, in front of me, as if trying to calm me down.
      I sidestepped. Immediately felt more comfortable. Not relaxed but certainly less jittery than I had when he'd been but centimeters away, though still reeling from his unwarranted physical contact.
      "So you don't have a regular boyfriend then?" he asked.
      "What the hell business is that of yours?"
      "Or a girlfriend?"
      "You just don't know when to stop, do you?" I blurted out, wondering if I'd just made the most stupid move of my life. I had no idea how he'd respond to righteous indignation, if he'd back down or flare up.
      "Hey, I was only being friendly!"
      My spine prickled with that heightened awareness again.
      But I didn't know what I was looking for, nor what I should do. Pay for my computer, take it and go, or make a run for my computer and... no, that'd never work. It was at the back of the shop, well out of reach and to step into that part of the building would cut me off from—
      The door.
      That was what I'd been searching for. Escape. Whenever he'd spoken to me, my spine had tingled because it was towards the door. During those moments when he'd stood beside me, I'd panicked, because my escape route was blocked off. I didn't want to go for my computer because I'd be walking further away from the exit.
      Just leave, Piper, the voice told me. It was another part of me speaking or a voice outside myself. This sensory sensitivity bordered on an out of body experience. I watched myself watching Richard, watched myself plan my exit.
      "After all, there's no one else in the shop," he murmured, inclining his head in my direction.
      Get out.
      "I could take you 'round the back and sort—"
      Before I'd turned one-eighty, my hand reached for the door handle. Drunk on adrenaline, I threw the door open, breath coming in shallow gasps, praying I'd get across the threshold without him lunging for me and when the glorious fresh air hit me, I gulped it down, stumbling forward into the forecourt of the computer shop, past a parked car—no doubt his—and onto the pavement beyond.
      Shuddering, nauseated, I looked back, half expecting to see him right behind me, but nothing.
      And my computer was still in there. Worth hundreds of pounds, but... at least nothing serious had occurred...
      Again I shuddered, frozen all over as the adrenaline left my body. I suspected I'd be in for a migraine later or at the very least a stress headache.
      Not wanting to dwell on matters, I tripped forward, excusing myself as I bumped a passerby who glanced at me and carried on walking.
      A number of doors along the street, I leaned against a wall, suddenly dizzy, still paranoid that I'd look over my shoulder to find Richard there although logic told me he wouldn't leave the shop unattended.
      Logic, however, did not explain his behavior.
      "Hey, you all right?" A middle-aged man laid his hand on my shoulder and I jumped. "Sorry, love... you just looked like you were about to faint. Are you... do you need help?"
      "No. No, thank you." I nodded at him, grateful for his concern, though I probably didn't look it. Likely, I appeared a wide-eyed madwoman. "I've just... um... had some bad news."
"Is there anything... do you need a doctor or...?"
      "No. Honestly. I'll be fine. I'm nearly at my workplace. Honestly. Thank you. I'll be okay. Fresh air does me good. I'll walk back." Rambling now, I knew, but it did the trick. The man took his leave, still frowning in concern, but I'd assured him there was no need to worry.
      I made it round the corner and leaned against a guard railing designed to stop people running—or rather staggering—out of the pub exit nearby and into the road. Fumbling in my bag, I pulled out my mobile, wanting to call someone, wondering who.
      My boss? To say what? "Hi, I nearly got sexually assaulted during my lunch break, mind if I take the afternoon off to feel sorry for myself?" Not that she wouldn't be sympathetic for something so serious, but the bottom line was I didn't want anyone to know. I felt... I felt... ashamed. As if I'd brought it on by going into the computer shop myself. Wearing such a short dress (even though it was my work uniform and no one else had ever taken it as a sexual come on). Not telling Richard to back off straight away.
      But I hadn't wanted to be rude, had persuaded myself he hadn't meant the things he'd said, hell, hadn't even said them.
      My thumb pressed the 'phone book' button. The sight of 'Leo' on my list was enough for me to hit 'call'.
      "Morning. Leo Carson speaking."
      Oh. I jerked bolt upright, no longer leaning on the railing, although my free hand continued to grasp it just in case.
      "Um...Leo?"
      "Yeah. Sorry, gents, I need to..."
      I realized he wasn't talking to me. "Are you in a meeting? Shit. I didn't think."
      "Is something wrong?"
      I don't care if I'm disturbing you. I need you— "Yes."
      "What... exactly?"
      Still not sure if he was speaking for the benefit of the people in whose company he remained, I didn't know whether to pour everything out or apologize and take my leave. His facade of politeness might have been exactly that—a facade. So he could maintain a businesslike
appearance.
"Piper?"
      Okay, so he'd said my name. That was good. He wasn't trying to hide who I was from anyone, although for all they knew I could be his secretary. Or a work colleague. 'Piper' could have been the surname of a man he worked with.
      "That guy at the computer shop."
      "What about him?"
      "He..."
      "Piper..." There was a warning undertone to his voice now, a definite, implicit don't fuck with me. "What happened?"
      Whether it was my shallow breaths or the pounding in my ears or the passing traffic or the background noise of passersby I didn't know, but I had trouble deciphering his words. I shivered, pulled my coat tighter, faltered, and had to grab a hold of the railing with my free hand again.
      "Listen, I really do apologize, gentlemen, I'll have to leave. There's a problem with another one of my... properties. I have to go see to it. Piper, I'll call you back in five minutes. Don't go anywhere. I'll call you back." His last words were spoken through gritted teeth, that much I knew, and I wondered if he was angry, because if so, his anger must have been directed at me for disturbing him.
      I sniffed a couple of times, desperate to stop myself crying. Even thinking about the word threatened to make it happen so I blinked, watched people walk past, looked at the sky, the pavement, even over my shoulder a few times. After the fourth or fifth time it began to sink in that no one was coming after me.
      My phone sprang to life sooner than I expected. "Leo?"
      "Piper? What the fuck's going on, love? Are you in trouble?"
      His first few words had made my head spin with fear and disappointment, but the 'love' turned it all around. The question. He spoke out of concern, not ire.
      "Kind of."
      "Well? What's going on? I'm assuming you phoned me for a reason? Did something happen? What happened? Why aren't you at work?"
      "I'm on my lunch break. But..." I'm thinking of taking the rest of the day off.
      "I wasn't expecting you to call, so I assumed something's—"
      "Were you in a meeting?"
      "Yes, I—"
      "I interrupted, didn't I?"
      "Oh, it doesn't matter—"
      "Shit. Sorry. I didn't think. I just came out and started scrolling through my phone and you were the first person I thought of, so... anyway, I don't know why I—"
      "If you'll forgive me for interrupting, Piper, will you stop interrupting me with fresh questions and answer mine? What happened?"
      I took a deep breath. Prepared to tell him. Then blurted out, "Where are you?"
BOOK: Untitled
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