23. Calista

23

CALISTA

S o, guess I'm a bondage girl.

I lift the T-shirt I borrowed from Ti's drawer and look at the mild rope burn on my ribs. My pussy tingles at the thought of what happened yesterday.

Ti was right. My mind stilled as he focused on the knots, and I focused on him. The sensations across my body were indescribable.

And while I might have to reconcile being told to not speak by a man with just how good it all felt, I want to do it again.

I poke my head into Ti's fridge, and it's clear the man likes to eat. I find some eggs and sausage and bacon, plus some mushrooms and tomatoes, and set about making a feast. He's going to his sister's house to get his locs retwisted this morning and I'm intent on sending him out into the world with a full stomach.

And then, I want to ask him if it would be okay to stay until I have to leave town.

The thought of leaving Asbury Park flips my stomach a little, but I straighten my shoulders and hold on to the idea that staying here is impossible.

I have a meeting with the bank today. I'm meeting my team at a temporary workspace at noon, then at the bank to make official introductions and get them settled at two. Which means, I need to leave here in a couple of hours to pick up some clothes at Mom's and review the final presentation that shows how we plan to tackle their issues.

As I cook, I call Becca.

"What do you need, boss?" she asks. Her words are mumbled, her voice rough.

"Shit," I say, looking at the time. It's seven a.m. here, which means it's four in the morning. "Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to bed."

"No. I'm good. Awake now anyway. What did you need?"

"Becca, go back to bed. Everything can wait."

"Wait, I need to know if you spoke to Orson and if he's figured out who is stalking you."

"No. My stalker is still elusive although, I have had more messages while I've been here. Orson's ruled out one of the candidates Andrew gave him. Apparently, being happy is a marker of stability and someone isn't likely to ruin that by stalking someone else. He's also sent someone to look into Walt Timberlake."

"Mmm. That's a good call. Weirdo always gave me the creeps."

"I'm still kicking myself for ever talking to him. It wasn't even like the advice he gave me was all that stellar. Nothing I couldn't get from the women's business leaders group I went to at the time. Bet the sex he offered me wouldn't have been all that stellar either."

Becca chuckles. "For all your pithy humor, I'm glad you're taking some time away." Her tone turns serious. "Just because you feel indefatigable doesn't mean you are."

I sigh and catch sight of my reflection in the kitchen window. "I know I'm not indefatigable." But even Becca doesn't know what I really fear. That one of the organizations I've hacked in the past has caught up with me.

Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit.

The thought stops me in my tracks. I'd mentally muttered it in jest.

But maybe I am getting too old for this shit.

I can suddenly see the flicker of a life I could create. One with Ti. In my head, we're in some nondescript place, but it isn't California, and it isn't New Jersey. Just some random beach in some random place where we walk a dog and laugh.

"Okay. Good," Becca says. "I'm going to bed. I'll call you when I'm awake."

I hang up and place my hand to my chest. The idea of giving up everything I have for a dog and Ti… Jesus. Do I even want a dog?

How can I even?—?

"When were you going to tell me you had a stalker?" Ti asks.

Since I'm already reeling from my little revelation, the question immediately puts me on the back foot. "I'm taking care of it."

"You need to be telling me shit like that."

I roll my eyes. "I'm capable of looking out for myself. Have for a really long time. And this"—I gesture between the two of us—"is so new, it's still got the fresh-paint smell."

I don't know why I say that when I was just imagining the two of us with a dog and a beach and a life. I try to think of the words to explain why I feel so spooked by the vision I just had.

Ti glares at me. "Not sure what you're trying to do here, apart from hide shit from me. Again."

"I'm not hiding anything. I didn't hide anything last time. I told you what I was planning to do. You knew enough about how I was going to do it that you were able to stop me. So, what exactly did I hide?"

"That a bunch of Outlaws came to your house and assaulted you. You should have told me that day."

"We discussed this," I say, trying to find some calm.

"You didn't trust me to save you, to figure it out with you then. And you don't trust me to figure this out with you now."

"That's not true, I..."

I what? How is this hurtling out of control?

He looks at the food on the counter. "I'm gonna eat at the club. And make sure you get a cab home."

I hear the hurt in his voice and am still trying to think of what to say when he walks away and leaves the house.

I wish he'd slammed the door. Something. Instead, he'd closed it softly like Mrs. Williams always made us do.

"Fuck," I say, then let out a breath.

Just when I thought we were making progress.

Not sure I really ever wanted a pet, but it looks like my chances of having one with Ti just went up in a puff of smoke.

I put the food back into the fridge. I'm not really hungry.

It takes me ten minutes to put my clothes on while simultaneously hoping Ti comes back so I can talk to him. I don't have his phone number to text him, and for a moment, I consider snooping until I find a bill with it on it.

But then I realize that's maybe where I keep going wrong. To do that would be a massive invasion of his privacy.

My phone rings. It's Orson. Desperate for a distraction, I answer it.

"What's up, Orson?" I say a touch more aggressively than I meant to.

"Sorry to bother you, boss, but we caught a lead on your stalker."

This grabs my attention from looking at the doorway Ti walked out of. "What is it?"

"We ran a search on everyone in the office's device. It was your head of security's suggestion. Brooke Davis's had malware on it. When we interviewed her, we asked if she had ever left it unsecured, and she was adamant she hadn't. But when we asked if she had ever left her laptop alone with strangers in her own home, like a repair or delivery man, she admitted to a one-night stand who asked her a lot of questions about where she worked and who she worked with."

I know the answer before I ask, but I need to put the question out there anyway. "Does she have a name?"

"Only a first name. Unlikely it's even real. But she does have a date and time, so we're in contact with the manager of the apartment unit she lives in because there are security cameras. Right now, he's suggesting we need something legal to get the footage from him."

"Okay. Do what you have to do with legal," I say.

I'm going to apologize to Ti, tell him everything, and then ask him if he wants to play detective with me. See if we can't have some of the fun we used to.

"On it. Glad you got out of town for a little while. Don't tell me exactly where you are, just in case our phone lines aren't secure, but are you safe?"

I look around Ti's kitchen and think about the security system he has and all the cameras that guard the exterior of the property. "Yes, I'm well-protected."

"Good. I'll keep you posted, Calista."

After we say our goodbyes, I feel a little more positive. I pull on my coat, set the alarm, and walk the fifteen minutes to Mom's house. It's easier now the sidewalk has been shoveled and I have decent boots on my feet.

When I get there, the light is on in the living room. I let myself in, and the smell of nutty coffee greets me.

After hanging my coat on the hook, I make my way into the kitchen, where Melanie has her hands wrapped around a mug.

"Morning, Melanie," I say. "Have you settled in okay?"

Melanie smiles. "I have. I'm unpacked, installed my coffee maker, and finished the plan for this week and emailed it to you last night. Help yourself to some coffee if you want."

"Thank you. It smelled so freaking good when I stepped into the house." I get busy pulling a cup from the cupboard. "I'll look at the plan you laid out while I enjoy this."

Once I have my coffee, I open my laptop. The document was sent at eleven last night when I was soundly sleeping in Ti's arms.

So much thought has gone into it. It's broken out into sections. Nutrition and movement, things to stimulate Mom's brain from puzzles to creativity, time for DIY and projects. Basic admin like banking, bookkeeping, and grocery shopping. And an online calendar for us to use to keep track of Mom's appointments and medications.

"This is amazing, Melanie. Thank you."

She tops up my coffee. "Glad you appreciate it. You should take this up to your mom and check in on her without me around."

I glance up at her. "Are you trying to manage me too?"

Melanie laughs. "I wouldn't be so bold. But I do know that adapting to having a full-time caregiver all up in your space can be a lot. I took her through the plan yesterday, under the guise of figuring out how we should spend our time together. I told her that doing nothing but watch TV all day was going to make her symptoms worse, and if she wants to gain some of her old spark back, we need to work on this." She points to the plan on my laptop. "It's tough love. Not quite tough enough to be bad cop, but now you can be good cop. See how she's doing."

"I think you're going to be good for all of us," I say as I stand. There's an ease in the house. I feel like I can breathe knowing Melanie is here. It feels…unusual…to rely on someone else.

This is what Ti was annoyed about.

I didn't tell him because I don't want to rely on him or anyone else to solve it for me.

They say when the universe is trying to teach you a lesson, you should learn it.

I step up the stairs and knock before I enter Mom's bedroom. She's awake and scrolling through her phone. Instead of standing at the side of the bed farthest from her, I step around, now that the path is clear, and perch right next to her on the edge of the bed.

"How are you doing, Mom?" I ask, taking her hand. The skin is paper thin and cool to the touch.

"I'm slipping, aren't I?" she says quietly. Her fingers grip mine tightly.

"I refuse to think of it that way," I say. I've given speeches to thousands of people, but somehow, I struggle to hold the conversation I hadn't anticipated. "We're making adjustments to allow you to have the best life."

She looks up at me, and for the first time, I hold my mom's gaze. Like, really hold it. Time slides by, but I realize I wouldn't want to be anywhere other than here right now.

"You've done well for yourself, Calista. I'm proud of you."

Who knew that ten words could overwhelm a person? My mouth goes dry, my eyes sting with tears, and I sniff as I try to swallow down the hurt from decades of waiting to be accepted by my own mother.

"Thank you," I manage, but the words are choked.

"I know you're going to leave soon, but I'm glad I have Melanie. Can you take all that money back and use it to pay for her?"

I think about what I've done. I've forced her to take cash to replace me. I can't do that to her anymore. "I will. I get paid a very healthy salary, Mom. A legal one. I'm going to set up an account that both you and Melanie have access to so you can get food, and keep the house warm, and pay for all the DIY you want to do."

But even as I say it, it's still a different version of the same problem. I'm paying money instead of being here for her, to do these things myself, and the thought fills me with guilt.

And for the first time, the idea of staying doesn't overwhelm me.

Because I'd be here with Mom.

But also, with Ti too.

"Do you think we have time to fix things?" she asks.

Her eyes sparkle with tears, and I know what she means. "Yes, Mom. I'm sorry I stayed away, but I really want to come and see you regularly from now on, if you want me to."

She nods. "I'd like that."

I sit with her until Melanie suggests she get up for breakfast, and then I leave. It's not fair for me to hover in the way between the two of them while they figure out their new routine.

When I leave the house with my work bag, I'm uncertain where I'm going.

I walk to Ti's house, but there is no answer when I knock. I'm not surprised. He said he was going to his sister's, and I don't know where she lives. I could find it if I tried, but I'm not ready to step foot in there yet.

So, I start to wander to a small coffee shop on the shore. As I do, a black sedan pulls away from the curb. It's nondescript, but the visor is down, which is weird because it's not especially sunny. A woman is driving it slowly, as if lost.

Then, I remember the car parked outside Mrs. Williams's home.

The woman I saw when I'd crept out of Ti's house.

I walk down Fifth Avenue, past Sunset Lake until I hit Ocean Avenue. As I turn the corner, I see the sedan has pulled in farther up the street, but clouds of exhaust tell me the engine is still running.

My heart races. I snap a picture with my phone. The car is too far away for the image to be useful. But I need to do something.

Uncertain if I'm being followed or not, I jog across the street and head to the boardwalk that is pedestrian only. Large metal posts stop the traffic from getting through. Because it's winter and cold, there are few people down here, yet I'm not so alone that I couldn't scream for help if I needed to.

But I wish I had Ti's phone number, so I knew someone was coming to help me.

Because I have an uneasy feeling that I just found my stalker.