Page 57 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
I was moving toward the bathroom to gather my toiletries when there was a knock at my door. I froze.
My first thought was that my stalker had come. Then, I realized that if he had, he probably wouldn’t knock.
My second thought was that Steve had decided he didn’t want to spend the night without me. As much as that warmed my heart, it also made dread pool in my stomach. If there was even a chance of trouble tonight, I didn’t want Steve here.
Then, a voice rang out with the incessant knocking and blew both of those theories to hell.
Angie? It couldn’t be.
I ran to the door and peeked out, and sure enough, there was my best friend, looking like she was one step away from breaking the door down.
I pulled open the door and stared at her. “Angie? What the hell are you doing here? How did you—oof!”
Air whooshed out of my lungs as Angie wrapped herself around me and squeezed. “Thank God you’re okay! I’m not too late.”
“Too late for what?” I asked.
“I know who your stalker is, Casey, and he knows where you are.”
I pulled Angie inside and closed the door. She was shaking like a leaf and looked like she was about to fall where she stood.
“Are we in immediate danger?”
“I don’t think so.” She peered cautiously around me, as if looking for something. “Is your boyfriend here?”
“Not tonight,” I answered. “Come in and sit down. I’ll make us a pot of coffee, and you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
A short while later,we were sitting on the couch with cups of coffee in hand and the remains of my single-serve Baileys shots within reach.
Her lips lifted in the ghost of a smile as she picked up a mini bottle, unscrewed the top, then tossed it back. “I forgot how much you liked these.”
She opened a second and dumped it into her coffee, taking in the fireplace, the exposed beams, and the rustic furnishings. Her earlier panic seemed to have been replaced with blatant curiosity.
“This is nice. Cozy. Not what I would have expected for an heiress, but I can see the appeal.”
“Angie.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine, and her expression sobered. “Right.” She took a deep breath. “Aaron Carrington is the one who’s been stalking you.”
I gaped at her, certain I’d heard wrong. “Aaron Carrington? Our old boss’s boss?”
Tall, dark, and classically handsome, he was the personification of Clark Kent in the looks department. Personality-wise, he was incredibly reserved, serious, and professional. Other than mandatory staff meetings, I’d rarely seen him.
Angie nodded. Her face was pale, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes. “He’s obsessed with you.”
I shook my head. Aaron Carrington and I hadn’t exchanged more than ten words over the course of my employment, and he’d certainly never indicated an interest in me. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Remember how he always used to sit in the back during those boring meetings? He used to watch you when everyone else’s attention was elsewhere.”
“I find that hard to believe. And even if it were true, that hardly qualifies as obsessive behavior.”
She shook her head, as if she was disappointed in me. “Are you really that oblivious? I thought that was just an act.”
I ignored that. “Tell me you’re basing your theory on more than that.”
“It’s not a theory, and, yes, I am. I found a file on you on his laptop.”
“He’s a second-level manager. He probably has files on everyone who works for him.”
