Waiting for Jo (5 page)

“Not really. It’s kind of a long story, but I
just received a threatening text. I was going to impose on Scotty
and see if he would come over and sleep on my couch tonight, but I
guess that’s not going to happen.” I can’t manage to hide the
disappointment in my voice.

“Well...I know you don’t know me very well,
but I could come over.” Will says with some hesitation in his
voice. “No pressure. I certainly won’t be offended if you aren’t
comfortable with it.” I’m silent for a moment while I weigh the
options in my head. I did just meet Will a few days ago, and we
haven’t had the chance to get to know each other, but the thought
of being alone tonight, wide awake, clutching my phone and softball
bat is unbearable.

“Jo? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. It would be great if
you would come over. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“What’s your address? I’ll be right
there.”

I decide I better put on my pink fleece robe
over my thin, silk nightgown as I don’t want to send the wrong
message. I hope I’m not making a mistake. I’ve literally only met
this man twice. He could be a rapist or a serial killer. But he’s
Scotty’s best friend, so he must be a good guy. I hope he is at
least.

Malcolm charges toward the door and growls at
the sound of footsteps approaching the house. At only 35 pounds,
and with his sweet-looking puppy face, he might not be the scariest
dog around, but he is definitely a good growler.

I hear a loud knock on the door. I look
through the peep hole. “Who is it?” I say.

“It’s Will.”

I unlock the deadbolt and open the door with
the softball bat still in my hand. I push Malcolm back with my leg
so that Will can make his way into the house.

Will looks down at the bat. “You must really
be scared.”

“I definitely am. Thanks for coming over. You
have no idea how much better it feels to have someone here with
me.” Will makes his way into the living room and bends down to
greet Malcolm. He extends his hand, and Malcolm wags his tail
frantically as he takes a few seconds to sniff it.

“Have a seat,” I say. I motion toward the
sofa in my living room and he complies. “Can I get you anything to
drink?”

“No thanks. I’m fine,” Will answers with a
slight grin on his face.

I look at him curiously. “What’s so
funny?”

“Well, I was just thinking that you’ll be
fine. You look pretty threatening holding that bat while wearing a
fuzzy pink robe.” I realize how ridiculous I must look and laugh.
His joke lightens my mood and makes me feel at ease. I’m glad that
he’s here.

Will leans back on the sofa and puts his feet
up on the ottoman, making himself comfortable.

“So, who texted you?” he asks.

“I have no idea. The caller ID just said
unknown.” I pull my phone out of my robe pocket and show him the
text. “I had been awake for a while, and I was just drifting back
off to sleep. It made me wonder if someone was actually watching
me.”

“Geez. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.
That is a seriously creepy text!”

“Tell me about it. This isn’t the first
communication I’ve received from this stalker either.” I get up
from the sofa and retrieve the cigar box from the bookshelf at the
other end of the living room and hand it to Will. He opens it and
peruses the contents. “I’ve been receiving notes from him for the
last six months or so. They started out pretty innocent, but lately
they’ve had a hostile tone to them. Tonight was the first time the
he’s sent me a text.”

I then watch Will read every single note. “Do
you remember the order in which you received all this stuff?” he
asks.

“I think so,” I fiddle with the notes a bit
and do my best to put them in chronological order on the ottoman.
Will is quiet as he takes a few moments to look at everything
again.

“Please tell me that you plan on calling the
police. I think this guy is getting closer and closer to doing
something crazy.”

I sit back down on the couch. “I don’t think
so,” I say. “The police never seem to do anything. They always have
a ‘boys-will-be-boys’ attitude. Also, there isn’t anything that’s
even a real threat. What am I going to tell them? Hey officer, I
got a text from someone who wonders if I think about them.”

“Well, I’m going to try and get you to go to
the police, but if you don’t, I’m at least going to help you find
out who is doing this. I won’t take no for an answer,” Will says
with authority in his voice.

“That’s really sweet, but--”

“But, nothing. I know how these guys work,
Jo. I don’t like talking about this, but I had a really good friend
who had to deal with a jerk like this. Sarah, Scotty, and I were
pretty close all throughout high school. During our senior year
Sarah started getting notes like these. They showed up in her
locker and under her windshield wipers. Then the phone calls
started. At first the guy would just breathe loudly. Then he
started saying creepy things in a disguised voice. She brushed it
off too and didn’t go to the police.”

“Oh my gosh! Did she ever find out who it
was?” I ask.

“Yeah. One night she was at work at the Dairy
Shack. She and another employee named Mike were alone, closing the
place up for the night. He cornered her and tried to kiss her. She
tried pushing him away, and he slapped her and then pushed her up
against the wall and choked her. Luckily, a customer that had eaten
there earlier in the day had come back to get a pair of sunglasses
he had left. He saw what was going on and yelled for Mike to stop.
Mike freaked out and ran out of the back door, and the customer
called the police.”

I felt a chill go up my spine as I listened
to Will’s story. “Did they catch him?”

“They did. He was on foot and didn’t get very
far. The police arrested him, and he ended up in a psychiatric
facility. Sarah wasn’t seriously hurt physically, but mentally, it
took a long time for her to recover. She was lucky that the
customer was there that night, but maybe the whole thing could have
been prevented had she gone to the police.”

I’m quiet as I think about Sarah and
Mike.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. That wasn’t my
goal. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Will
says.

“I know you don’t mean to scare me, but I am
scared. I think you’re right. It’s time to find out who is doing
this and put a stop to it.”

“So you’ll let me help you then?”

“Yes. Definitely. It actually feels good to
know that someone else is going to take on some of this
burden.”

“I’m happy to help,” Will says.

It’s now 3:30 in the morning, but I’m wired
from all of the activity, and Will doesn’t seem too tired. “Are you
sure you don’t want a drink? Or are you hungry? I could fix you
something to eat.”

“Aren’t you tired after everything that
happened tonight? I’m probably going to stay up and keep my eye out
for your stalker, but feel free to go to bed. I can sleep tomorrow
during the day, but I know you have to work.”

“I can’t sleep right now. I just have so much
going through my head. If you don’t mind, I might just stay up with
you for a while.”

“That’s fine with me. I’d like that. Since
we’re up though, let’s go ahead and make some food. I skipped
dinner and I’m starving,” Will says while patting his stomach.

“I could eat too. Let’s see what I’ve got in
the fridge.”

Will follows me into the kitchen and stands
behind me as I open the fridge and look for something to cook. My
fridge is in a sad state. There are some eggs, half a gallon of
milk, some cheese that’s probably gone bad, and a bunch of random
condiments. When the hell did I purchase hoisin sauce and why did I
need it?

I turn around to face Will. “I can make eggs
or I can make eggs.”

“That’s a tough decision, but I’m going to
have to go with the eggs,” he says before laughing.

“Eggs it is then,” I say as I pull the
ingredients out of the fridge.

“Can I help?” Will asks.

“Sure. Why don’t you beat the eggs while I
melt the butter?”

Will and I make small talk while I cook. I
grab two plates from the cupboard, divide the eggs onto each one
and then hand Will his plate.

“Dinner is served,” I say. “Let’s enjoy our
gourmet meal in the living room.”

We return to our spots on the sofa and talk
about our families, friends, and tell each other stories about
growing up in the City. The time passes by quickly, and before I
know it, it’s 4:30 in the morning. Tomorrow is going to be a long
day at work. Maybe Dan will go easy on me. Probably not.

I let out a deep yawn.

“You must be tired now,” Will says.

“I’m a little tired. Why don’t we just turn
on the TV, and I’ll rest my eyes for a little bit?” I say. I find
the remote and turn on BBC News. I put my feet up on the ottoman,
close my eyes, and before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

It feels like I’ve only been asleep for a few
minutes, when I’m awoken by the sound of the alarm screaming from
my bedroom, so it must be 6:30 in the morning. I somehow ended up
sleeping on Will. His arm is over my shoulders and my head is
resting on his chest. It feels really nice to be close to him. I
stay still for a few minutes and just enjoy the moment. It’s been
months since I’ve experienced the comfort of a man’s arms. I really
wish that the alarm wasn’t blaring and that we could sleep just
like this for a few more hours.

After a few minutes Will starts to stir, and
I quickly move from his embrace. He stretches his arms up over his
head while yawning and rubs his tired eyes.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“It’s a little after 6:30. I’m going to put
some coffee on and then get ready for work. Go ahead and go back to
sleep. There’s no reason that you have to get up right now.” I
stretch my back and arms slightly before standing up.

Will closes his eyes and moves himself into a
more comfortable position. “Okay. Just wake me up when you’re about
to leave.”

I let Malcolm out, feed him and then pour
myself a very large cup of coffee. I’m going to need it today.

When I finish getting ready for work, I wake
Will up.

“Hey, Will,” I whisper, nudging him gently on
the shoulder. His eyes open a bit. “I’m going to take off, but stay
here and sleep for as long as you want. Just lock the door when you
go.”

“Okay. Thanks,” he says groggily. He leans up
and kisses me quickly on the cheek. Well, that was unexpected. He
immediately closes his eyes again and lays back down. I walk to the
door and take one last look at his handsome face before
leaving.

Chapter 7

I sit in my office and try and prepare myself
for the tongue lashing I’m going to receive from Dan. I know that
he’s going to be pissed that I’m quitting without giving two-week’s
notice, but after two years of taking his abuse, I don’t feel all
that guilty about it.

Dan is one of the most senior attorneys at
the firm. I didn’t know what the term “old school litigator” meant
until I worked for him. Old school means making 30-year-old male
associates cry. It means working fifteen-hour days regularly and
expecting everyone else to do the same. It means never showing any
emotion, except anger, of course. And it means only knowing a
single joke: What’s the best part about the weekend? Only two more
work days until Monday. Funny, right? Not really. I don’t know Dan
on a personal level, but I imagine that he hates his wife, hates
his kids, hates his friends and that they all hate him back. I will
not miss him at all.

I walk across the hall to his office. His
door is closed, but I can hear him yelling at someone. “Yes, we
will oppose your motion to amend! I don’t care! You should have
gotten it right the first time!” It sounds like he’s yelling at
opposing counsel, which is typical. At least he’s not screaming at
his secretary or another associate again.

The best thing to do in this situation is
enlist the help of his secretary.

“Hey Cindy, can you call me when Dan is off
of the phone? I need a few minutes to talk to him.”

“Sure, thing. But I have to warn you, he’s in
a pretty bad mood today,” she says.

“Like usual, you mean?” We both laugh
heartily.

Cindy is one of the nicest people at the
firm. She’s been a legal secretary for close to forty years now,
and she knows how to deal with the old schoolers. I’ve never seen
her lose her cool or cry. She is the master of standing up for
herself without offending anyone too much. I don’t think that
anyone else could handle Dan the way she does.

As soon as Cindy calls me, I rush over to
Dan’s office and knock on the door lightly.

“Come in, if you must,” he says in his usual
grumpy voice. I open the door, walk in, and I don’t bother sitting
down. Dan is looking down at some papers. “What can I do for you?”
he asks without bothering to look up.

“Dan, I’m sorry for the short notice, but I’m
leaving the firm. Friday is my last day.”

Dan looks up from his papers and is
practically scowling at me. “Friday is not your last day. Today is
your last day. I’m calling human resources, and they will have
security escort you out. Cindy will pack up your office and mail
you your personal items. You can leave now,” he says, looking back
down at his papers.

“Really, Dan? You think that security is
necessary?” I ask. He ignores me. “Fine. I’m leaving now. I really
hope that acting like a complete asshole makes you feel better.
Have a nice life.” I storm out of his office and dart back to mine
before Dan has the opportunity to call HR. There is no way I’m
going to be escorted out of here by security when I haven’t done
anything wrong. I grab my purse and a few other personal items and
make my way to the elevator. I hope this is the last time I’ll ever
be in this building again.