Page 11 of Strike
The shop was set to open next weekend with free samples, balloons, glitter, and music, but unfortunately, I’ve had to postpone it. To when? I don’t know.
Two nights ago, a fire broke out in the kitchen. Within minutes, it had engulfed the entire room, leaving me trapped in the back with no way out.
I remember lying on the floor, smoke filling the tiny storeroom, then the sound of crashing glass. A man appeared through the flames and scooped me into his arms like an action hero. A stranger with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. He saved me and made sure I was delivered to safety, and then he disappeared without leaving his name.
He disappeared, and now he’s all I can think about.
I dream about smoke and fire, and it always ends with you saving me.
My shop can be rebuilt, my dream repaired, and The Fitzroy Cake Company will have its time to shine, but I was so close to suffocating, being burned alive or worse. You saved me from a terrible fate. You risked your life for a stranger, not even knowing if you would be able to help let alone get out yourself.
The man with the chocolate eyes. The gruff, sad, handsome stranger who I just can’t shake.
Whoever you are, please let me say thank you. Please let me shake your hand and speak the words.
You saved my life…and haunted me instead.
Please. Who are you?
Satisfied, I turned my phone off and promptly went to sleep. It seemed hashing it out helped after all.
Iwoke feelinggroggy but oddly calm.
The sound of clattering footsteps rumbled down the hall, and a moment later, Macy threw open my bedroom door. She had this irritating habit of never knocking, which had resulted in her seeing my boobs more times than I could remember. The first time she’d done it she was all like ‘Nice tits, Callie!’ then promptly started talking to me like nothing was out of the ordinary.
This morning, she was dressed for work—as an administration assistant at an accounting firm in the city—in her usual getup of a cute silk blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt and sexy black kitten heels on her feet. Perfect hair and perfect makeup completed the ensemble.
“Uh, Callie?” She held up her mobile phone, a quizzical expression on her face. “Have you seen this?”
“Seen what?” I rubbed my eyes as she flopped down on the bed beside me.
“I think your midnight social media post has gone viral.”
“What?” My heart did a full somersault with a twist, and I snatched up my own phone. Unlocking the screen, my mouth fell open when I saw the notifications that had been lighting it up while I was asleep. It was still going—banners were appearing thick and fast. I would have to turn it off at this rate. “There’s thousands of them… Oh, my God, I can’t look. Do I want to look? I can’t. Look for me.” I tossed my phone at her.
She laughed and scrolled through her own. “It’s all good. You’ve mobilized an army.”
“They aren’t trolls?” I asked, my shoulders sagging. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Callie, calm down a little. Take a deep breath…then look at your post.”
Taking a deep breath, I said a little prayer and picked up my phone. Opening the Facebook app, I tapped on the notifications and was led to my post.
There were tons of shares and likes, but the comments were nothing but positive. Well, there were a few jerks typing out negative things about my weight, but most of them were nice. Things likeI’m glad you’re okay,I’m sorry about your shop,I hope you find your mystery guy, andI’ve shared in case someone I know knows him.
“Holy shit, Macy,” I said in total disbelief. “I didn’t think it would end up like this. I wasn’t even with it last night. I was completely brain fried.”
She snorted. “It’s done now.”
“I mean, I was dreaming about the fire… I was rattled…” I glanced up at my housemate, suddenly feeling sick. “Mace… Have I done the right thing? What if he didn’t want to be found, and now I’ve forced the guy to do something he didn’t want to do?”
“If you ask me,” she began, putting down her phone, “he can’t expect to save you, then not have you wonder about his identity. It’s common sense. After this, if he still doesn’t come forward, then you’ll know for sure either way. It’s all you can do. Reading the post might be enough of a thank you.”
She was right. I couldn’t force the guy to do anything. Besides, I didn’t know him at all. He could beanyone, but it didn’t stop me from conjuring up his image again.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I murmured. “It’s borderline obsessive, actually.”
“Was he hot?” Macy asked with a wicked grin. “He was hot, wasn’t he?”
