Page 18 of Stalked By the Alphas
I squeeze her hands. “Well, I’m glad you did. It will save me from having to drag my arse out seven days a week.”
She frowns. “I could do the Saturday half-day as well if you wanted more time off?”
She raises it as a question, and honestly, I could kiss her right now. “Is that something you would like? I don’t want to take advantage.”
“I’m asking you, child,” she says with a huff. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “You definitely aren’t taking advantage. I would love it if you would work the Saturday half day as well. We can discuss pay after you’ve had a think about what you would expect, and I’ll do the same.”
“That is fair,” she says with a decisive nod. “Thank you.”
“Thankyou. I feel this is going to be a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Already I’m dreaming of Saturday morning in bed.
“I will see you tomorrow then,” she says. “Have a good day and give that alpha a chance, hmm? He seems nice, and you are such a lovely girl. You deserve better than that Rob character.”
“Maybe,” I murmur and wave her off.
Once alone, I lean against the counter, lost in thought. Tea with Ayden had been lovely. He was charming, attentive, and seemed genuinely interested in me and my work. But a nagging voice in the back of my mind warns me to be cautious. After everything that’s happened lately, can I really trust this seemingly perfect alpha who appeared out of nowhere?
But that reminds me of something I need to do. Icheck the time and chew my lip, but if I want to make it to Penny’s Fabrics before she closes for the day, I’ll have to close up early again. I gather my things, and with a gulp, I shove the purple envelope with the card and photo stashed inside my bag. I think I need to take this to the police. Try as I might, I can’t ignore it and carry on as if nothing has happened.
Locking up, I stroll down the hot street, crossing over to the other side as a big, fancy black Range Rover comes rolling down the high street, looking as out of place as if it were a limo. The windows are tinted, which gives me a creepy feeling, but the tingle on the back of my neck is what gives me goosebumps. I stop to watch it pass, not being able to see who the driver is. Eyes narrowed, I see it turn at the end of the road, and then it’s gone from sight.
Who was that?
Shrugging, I start walking again and then pause at the end of the alley by the newsagent’s. This is a shortcut to Penny’s, situated off the high street down a small side road. My palms start to sweat, and I shake my head. I’m being ridiculous. No one is going to jump out at me in broad daylight with people all around.
I hope.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the alley.
The narrow alley is dim and cool after the bright sunlight of the main street. My footsteps echo off the brick walls as I hurry down the passageway, eager to reach the other side. A faint scuffling noise behind me makes me freeze.
I whirl around, my heart pounding, but the alley behind me is empty. I let out a shaky breath, berating myself for being so jumpy. It was probably just a cat.
“Get a grip, Hazel,” I mutter, shaking my head. But all of a sudden, I feel like I’m being watched.
I turn back and practically jog the rest of the way, emerging onto the side street with relief. Penny’s Fabrics is just ahead, its cheerful window display a welcome sight. As I reach for the door handle, movement in the reflection catches my eye.
A tall figure in dark clothing and a white mask covering his face stands at the mouth of the alley I just exited, watching me. My breath catches, but then he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, making me question whether I saw him at all or if it was just my overactive imagination.
Hands shaking, I yank open the door and hurry inside the shop.
“Hazel! What a lovely surprise,” Penny calls from behind the counter. Her smile fades as she takes in my pale face.
I force a smile, trying to calm my nerves. “Hi, Penny. I wonder if you could cut me a panel of voile, and do you have those telescopic poles to put it up in a bedroom window?”
Penny nods and gets to work. I give her the estimated size, which I remember from when I bought the curtains. I was being silly not putting anything in that window, but the view was just too pretty to obstruct. Now, it is a necessity if people are peeking in at me.
Penny bustles about, gathering the materials I requested. As she measures and cuts the fabric, I try to shake off the lingering unease from my walk here.
“There you are,” Penny says, handing me the neatly folded voile and telescopic pole.
“Thanks, Penny.”
As I pay, Penny gives me a concerned look. “Everything okay?”
I hesitate, debating whether to confide in her. But the memory of that masked man in the alley makes me hold back. I can’t even be sure I really saw him. “I’m fine. Just tired, I suppose. Thank you for this,” I say, holding up my purchases.
