Page 40 of Love Me Stalk Me
Pretty Girl has sent a text.
But not justanytext. A completely dirty, nasty, filthy message.
To Caleb.
Jesus.
Harris is still talking. I am not listening.
"...Sir?"
I snap my eyes up. Harris is waiting, his eyebrows raised in question.
Shit.
I clear my throat, forcing myself back into the moment. "Sorry—say that again?"
Harris repeats himself, and I nod like I wasn't just blindsided by the filthiest text message I've ever received in my entire goddamn life. "Yeah, I was saying one of the cameras near the south entrance was flickering earlier. It's fine now, but I wasn't sure if it was a connection issue or if someone was messing with it."
I nod, forcing myself to focus. "Good catch. I'll have tech check the feed, see if there was any interference."
Harris shifts slightly, glancing toward the main floor, his weight transferring to his other foot. "Also, we had a guy loitering near handbags for a while. Didn't try anything, but he wasn't shopping either."
"Got a description?"
"Mid-forties, expensive suit, slicked-back hair. The type that looks like money but acts like trouble."
I don't like men who linger. They're usually either casing the place or harassing the staff. "Next time, call me," I say, my voice flat.
Harris nods. "Got it. You want meto keep an eye out?"
"Yeah," I say, already making a mental note to check the footage later. "If he comes back, I want to know."
Harris claps a hand to his headset. "You got it, boss."
I nod once, pat his shoulder, and keep walking. The second I round the corner, putting myself out of sight of both customers and staff, I pull out my phone again.
I stare at the message, the words glowing on my screen.
Read it.
Twice.
Fuck.
I wasn't ready for this. Now I have a choice. Do I respond while I'm at work and keep this whole thing going? Keep her engaged, keep pulling her deeper? Or do I let the AI take over for a while so I can actually focus on my job?
I take a slow breath, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Another message comes in.
I read it, my heart rate spiking instantly.
And just like that, the decision is made for me.
THE NOT-BREAD BREAD FIASCO
IZZY
