“That scenario doesn’t apply here because no one would be stupid enough to try to interfere with my life. But I get your point. Just know that I’m not withholding information to be a dick. I’m doing it because it’s information you’re not ready to hear.”
“And how do you know I’m not ready to hear it?”
“Because a person can only handle so much.”
It takes her a minute to form a reply, and when she does, it makes me like her even more. She’s relentless, something her and I have in common. It’s a good trait to have. I’m also enjoying the fact that she’s actually talking to me. I’m so used to her giving me minimal replies at work. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her talk so much. Not knowing who she’s dealing with gives her the confidence to stand up for herself.
“Well, then, maybe we should stop this right now. I don’t like secrets, and you seem to have a lot of them. I also don’t like lies. I just want to put that out there right now.”
I laugh outright when I watch her throw her arm up in the air and twist her body on the chair so her back is against the back rest, just like a child would do if they weren’t getting what they wanted.
“What are you laughing at?” she asks, her voice suspicious.
“Nothing.” I stop laughing and turn serious. “Listen, one thing you’ll learn about me, Poppy, is that I do not lie. I may hold back information with the best interest of the person, but what I do say you can count on as the truth. And no, this doesn’t stop right now. This is very much still happening.”
Instead of responding to that, she asks, “How long have you been following me?”
I sigh and sit up in my chair, resting my elbows on the hardwood desk. It’s better to get it over with now.
“For almost a year,” I tell her truthfully.
“What?” she screeches across the line. She jumps up from her chair and starts pacing with determined steps across her porch.
“Poppy…”
“This is bad,” she mutters, interrupting me. “Very, very bad. I can’t believe this shit.”
I give her a few minutes to stew, before trying again.
“Poppy,” I say cautiously. “This can’t be that much of surprise to you. After all, I have been sending you flowers for eight months.”
She laughs humorously. She stops her pacing and bends her head back to scowl up at the sky. It’s getting dark, but where she’s standing and the view of the camera gives me the perfect angle to see her beautiful face.
“Ha! Sending me flowers for eight months and telling me you’ve been keeping tabs on me for almost a year is two entirely different things, Sterling.”
“Sterling?” What the hell did she call me?
“Yes, Sterling,” she says flippantly, while carelessly throwing her hand in the air. “It’s what I call you because you won’t give me your name, and I have to call you something. You send me sterling silver roses, so it fits.”
Knowing that she’s thought about me enough to give me a nickname sends a thrill through me. I smile as I watch her start her pacing again.
“I’ve told you before that I’ll do what it takes to get what I want, and what I want is you, Poppy. I made it my business to know everything about you. “Keeping tabs” on you, as you put it, is one of the ways I do that.”
I hear her huff out a breath over the line. She finally stops her pacing and rests back against the railing on the porch.
“This is so, so wrong. And what makes it worse is the lack of fear I have of you. What in the hell is wrong with me? Why am I interested in knowing more about you? I should be scared—terrified of what you’ll do. You obviously think it’s okay to meddle in my life and stalk me. I mean, who allows that shit and doesn’t freak out?”
“Poppy, I want you to listen to me,” I say, my tone serious.
I stop and stay quiet until I hear her mutter, “What?”
“I know this is a lot to take in. I know it’s not traditional. I know you still have a lot of questions, one being why can’t we meet now. I’m not quite ready for that, but it will happen, I promise. Just know that I would never harm you. You may not know me, so my word may not mean much to you, but you have it regardless.”
After several tense seconds of watching Poppy on my computer, her body finally relaxes. I sag back in my chair and release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Give me another letter,” she says, her voice back to the sweet I enjoy so much.
“R.”