Waiting for Jo (6 page)

***

As I drive away from downtown, I feel better
than I’ve felt in a long time. Even if I didn’t have another job
waiting for me, I’d be happy. Working for Anderson & Thomas,
and specifically working for Demanding Dan, wasn’t satisfying in
the least. It feels like I’ve had a weight on me for the last two
years, and every day that I worked there it got heavier and
heavier. Today, that weight has been lifted, and I might just float
away.

I decide to head over to the Alcove for an
early lunch. When I walk in, I see Will behind the bar, but the
rest of the place is empty. The Alcove just started serving lunch
and the concept hadn’t exactly caught on just yet. It’s also only
11:20 or so; probably a bit early for lunch for most people.

“Hey, Will. I didn’t expect to see you here.
I thought you didn’t have to work today,” I say, frowning. “Now I
feel horrible for keeping you up all night.”

Will flashes me a perfectly white smile.
“Don’t feel bad. I wasn’t supposed to work today, but Scotty called
me and said he had something he had to do and that he really needed
my help. I drank a bunch of coffee at your place, so I’m doing
fine.” He comes from behind the bar and gives me a hug. His strong
arms feel so good around me, and we linger in the hug a little
longer than most friends would. I try to ignore the tingling I feel
inside of me as our bodies touch.

“So, what are you doing here in the middle of
the day?” He points to the barstool in front of him. “Take a seat,”
he says before I have a chance to answer.

I make myself comfortable at the bar. “Well,
I tried to give notice at work today, and they made me leave
immediately. So, I thought I’d come by here and catch up with
Scotty, have a bite to eat, and maybe even do some day drinking to
celebrate.”

Will laughs. “Well, since it’s not even noon
yet, you should probably start with a mimosa.”

“That works for me. Mimosas have champagne in
them which is perfect for this occasion.”

Will finds a champagne glass and grabs a
bottle of Brut from the cooler.

“One mimosa coming right up,” he says.

He makes my drink and sets it down on the bar
in front of me. “So, why did you quit? Are you starting a new
job?”

I take a quick sip of my mimosa. “Yes. I’m
going to be working for my ex-boyfriend if you can believe
that.”

Will is silent, but the look on his face
makes me think he’s not happy to hear about this.

“He’s a criminal lawyer with his own practice
and has promised that I’m going to get more responsibility. The pay
is also great, and the best part is that I’m not going to have to
work with a verbally abusive prick anymore,” I say.

“Well, that’s good.” Will is quiet for a
moment, as if he doesn’t know how to respond. “Hey do you want
something to eat?” Will takes a menu from behind the bar and sets
it down in front of me. I get the feeling that he’s trying to
change the subject.

We’re both silent as I peruse the menu, and
he polishes wine glasses. I look up from the menu.

“You know what you want?” Will asks.

“The spinach and beet salad sounds
great!”

“Alright. Let me put that in for you,” Will
says before disappearing to the kitchen.

I pick up my iPhone to keep myself
entertained while Will is gone. As I’m checking my e-mail, the text
alert goes off. I open up my messages and see that I have a text
from unknown again. I take a deep breath before reading it:

Unknown: You look very beautiful today. Blue
is definitely your color. How’s your drink?

Whoever this is has obviously seen me today
and knows that I’m at the Alcove. Are they watching me right now? I
turn my head back and forth and scan the entire room. The bar area
is still empty. I freeze for a minute as I think about how this
sick bastard could be looking at me right now and getting off on
how scared I am.

I don’t want to be alone in here.

“Will? Are you back there? Can you come out
here?” I say, unable to hide the fear in my voice.

Will comes darting out from the kitchen door
to join me at the bar. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks.

“No. I’m not okay.” I show Will my phone. He
looks at the text message and grimaces. “I’m starting to get sick
of this bullshit,” I say.

Will hugs me. “It’s okay. No one is going to
do anything to you while I’m around you. You’re safe here,” he
says. He releases me from his embrace and looks me directly in the
eye. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Scotty will be back here at
6:00 tonight and will take over so that I can have some time off.
Then you and I are going to sit down and figure out what to do.
Okay?”

I nod my head. “Thanks, Will. I’m already
feeling better. You’re a good guy.”

“No problem. And if you don’t want to be home
alone until then, you can go to your place and get your dog, bring
him back here, and hang out in the apartment until I’m done.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you
out.”

“You won’t be putting me out. Just don’t
drink all of my beer while you’re up there, you lush,” he says with
a slight grin on his face.

I laugh at his joke. “Hey, no promises,” I
say. “I’m not to be trusted around alcohol.”

He hugs me again. “Everything is going to be
alright. I mean it,” he says.

Will walks me to my car. “Come right back,”
he says. “And call me if you need me. Also, if you’re not back here
in 45 minutes, and I haven’t heard from you, I’m going to assume
that something is wrong, and I’m going to come looking for
you.”

“Thank you, Will,” I say as I throw my arms
around him. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Chapter 8

I change my clothes, grab a few things, and
pick up Malcolm before rushing back to the Alcove. Just as I’m
arriving, I receive a text from Will.

Will Bennett: Bring Malcolm up to the
apartment through the fire escape on the back of the building.
There is a key to the door on top of the light fixture.

I text Will to let him know that I made it
back to his place. I pull out a toy to keep Malcolm entertained
before scoping out Will’s fridge and taking a beer. I then make
myself comfortable on his outdated sofa and reach for a book on
Gustav Klimt that’s resting on the coffee table. But I’m distracted
by a messy pile of papers and mail sitting next to it. One document
poking out from under a few other pieces of paper says Petition for
Bankruptcy.

My first instinct is to grab the petition and
read it, but I don’t. I pick up the Klimt book and try to distract
myself. I flip through a few pages. Then I get up and walk around
the apartment and look at some of Will’s unfinished paintings. But
I can’t stop thinking about the bankruptcy. I sit back on the sofa
and then gently pull the paper out of the pile, careful not to move
the other things in the pile. This is so wrong, I tell myself.

The petition has been filled out, but not
signed which means that it likely hasn’t been filed yet. I try hard
to not be judgmental. Will is so nice and I like him a lot, but
this is bad. I always wonder how people let things get to the point
that they have to file for bankruptcy. My mother was poor, and she
struggled to raise me after my father left, but she was responsible
about her purchases and didn’t buy things she couldn’t afford. Will
is a single man. How can he not have his shit together? I feel
guilty for snooping and for thinking such bad thoughts about such a
good guy.

I put the paperwork back in the pile of
documents and turn the TV on. I suddenly feel very tired, and I lay
my head back on the couch and drift off to sleep with the sounds of
daytime television in the background.

I’m awoken by the sound of the door opening.
I open my eyes and see Will standing over me.

“Hey, sleepy head,” he says. “Did you have a
nice nap?”

I sit up, stretch my arms over my head and
yawn. “Yeah. Is it 6:00 already? I can’t believe I slept for so
long.”

Will sits down next to me on the sofa. “It’s
about 6:15. Scotty just got back. Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving. Should we get something
downstairs?”

“No. Let’s do something different. How does
Chinese sound? We can work on a plan to deal with your stalker
while we eat.”

“That works for me,” I say.

Will and I pick out a few things to order
from China Garden and Will places the order. The food arrives
quickly, and he grabs us some dishes from the kitchen. We pile our
plates with General Tsos Chicken, beef with broccoli, and chow
mein. Malcolm watches intently, hoping that we’ll drop some food on
the floor.

“So, I’ve been thinking about this whole
stalker thing,” says Will. “And I have a few ideas.”

Will, picks up the pile of papers on the
coffee tables and pulls out a notebook that was hiding beneath
them. It’s open to a page where he’s scribbled down some notes.

“Okay. The first thing that you need to do is
start keeping track of every time this guy contacts you. Keep a
small notebook in your purse and whenever something happens, write
down how he contacted you, what he said or did, where it occurred,
and anything else you notice, like who’s around you and what you
were doing just before you received the communication. I’m thinking
that if you start keeping track of the details, we might start
seeing a pattern evolve.”

“That’s a good idea. I think it could really
help,” I say.

Will, takes a pen out of the spiral binding
of the notebook and checks off the first item on his list. “The
other thing I think we should do is install a camera on your porch.
The technology is pretty cheap these days. I did some research and
you can pick up a camera for around a $100.00. The nice thing is
that you can get online anytime and see what’s going on. They also
have motion detectors that start recording whenever something
moves. If this guy keeps dropping notes on your front door, we’ll
likely be able to see who he is.”

“That’s a really good idea too. I’m ready to
spend some money to end this. If I actually had an image of this
guy I could take it to the police, and they might be more willing
to do something about it.”

“We can go to the hardware store and pick up
the camera, and I can install it tomorrow if you’d like,” Will
says.

“That would be great. I’d like to get it done
as soon as possible.”

“We’ll do that then. Now there’s one more
thing I’d like to do. I want to go through all of the people you
know who you think could be doing this. Even if it is highly
unlikely that a particular person is responsible, I still want to
talk about them and weed them out,” Will says as he flips the
notebook over, exposing a clean page.

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll start with my
friends and exes. There’s you.”

Will laughs. “Well, I’m not stalking you, but
I’ll put myself down so we can rule me out later,” he says as he
writes his name down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest that you
were stalking me. I was just trying to name anyone I could think
of,” I say.

“Don’t worry. I’m not offended,” Will says
with a smile on his face. “Who else can you think of?”

“Well, there’s Scotty. Should we put him down
just to rule him out too?” I ask.

“Hey, if I’m going be on this list, then so
is Scott.” Will jots down Scotty’s name. “Who else?”

“There’s my ex James. There’s my ex before
that, Marshall. There are a few guys at work that I was acquainted
with, but we weren’t close,” I say.

“Let’s put them on the list anyway. I want to
include everyone,” Will says.

I name off a few guys from work and Will
writes them down. “Is there anyone else from work you can think
of?”

“There’s this guy named Dickey. You should
put him on the list.”

“Ok, is there anyone else who could be
stalking you?”

“Maybe we should just start with what we have
down. I feel like this list could go on forever. It could be the
teller at the bank, or the guy who mows my lawn, or any other
number of people. It could even be a girl.” I say.

“That’s a good point. Let’s start with what
we already have,” Will says. “Okay, so it can’t be me because I
didn’t even know you when it started.”

“That’s true. I give you permission to cross
yourself off of the list, but I’m keeping my eyes on you,” I say as
I point to my eyes with my index and middle finger and then point
at him. Will smiles.

“You wish it was me,” he says. We both laugh
as he scribbles his name out.

“And it can’t be Scotty. He was with you when
I received that text the other night,” I say.

“I’ll cross him off too then.” Will puts a
line through Scotty’s name.

“I highly doubt that James is doing this. He
broke up with me. Why would he break up with me and then stalk me?
That wouldn’t make sense. Cross him off,” I say. Will abides.

“And I broke up with Marshall, but we’ve
remained friendly. He’s happily married and has a kid now. I highly
doubt that it’s him. Let’s cross him off as well.”

“He’s off,” Will says. “Let’s move on to
these work guys.”

“There’s a threesome of guys that I hang out
with sometimes. We’re pretty friendly, but none of them have ever
expressed any interest in me beyond being buddies. I guess I don’t
know them well enough to cross them off, but they definitely
shouldn’t be at the top of the list,” I say. Will puts question
marks next to their names.

“What about this Dickey guy?” he asks.

“Dickey is a very strange man. I was nice to
him because I felt bad for him; everyone else at work treated him
like some kind of pariah. He asked me out several months ago, and I
turned him down. Ever since then he’s refused to speak to me, and
whenever I see him around the office he gives me a dirty look. When
the notes started getting creepy, I suspected Dickey, but I
dismissed the thought; he seems too simple minded to do all of
this.”