Tom barreled back into the apartment, apparently having heard Bayli’s screams. “Jesus Christ!” he bellowed.
“Just stomp,” Rory demanded in a tight voice.
Tom did just that but also grabbed his cell and contacted the Facilities Manager to alert him to the situation. Then told Rory, “An exterminator will be here ASAP.”
“Who the hell delivered this box?”
“A courier with a business card. Martin at the front desk accepted it.”
“Then you and Martin need to figure out who would bring a box of spiders to Christian Davila’s guest, at his apartment.”
“Yes, sir. Of course. Right away.”
Rory tried to dial down his fury. “I know this isn’t your fault. But it scared the hell out of the woman who opened the box.”
“Whatever we can do to find out who made that delivery, Mr. St. James, we’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Rory tried to get his temper under control. “We appreciate your assistance.”
The Facilities Manager appeared minutes later with the in-house emergency exterminating canister and he sprayed the box, then the entryway, though Rory was pretty certain he and Tom had squashed every spider in sight at that point. Miranda had heard the commotion and hastily cleaned up, not even batting a lash. Making Rory wonder just how much Christian paid the housekeeper.
When the entryway was back to normal, the building management departed, as did Miranda. Christian and Bayli emerged from the bathroom, him soaking wet in his clothes, her wrapped in a towel that she hugged tight to her chest, though she was still dripping from head to toe. Shaking, too.
And, goddamn it, Rory thought, it wasn’t the good kind of shaking that she did after he and Christian had just made her come.
No, this was shaking of the terrified kind.
But she wore a brave face, tried to appear natural. Rory didn’t buy it, and from the look on Christian’s face that basically said he was ready to throttle someone, Christian wasn’t buying it, either. He had his arm around her shoulders and she was tucked close to him.
Christian said, “They were all over her. Even in her hair.”
“Yeah, they had scampering down pat.” Rory’s fists clenched at his sides.
“Someone did
a very nice job of freaking the hell out of her,” Christian said, not the least bit successful at masking his fury.
Bayli told them, “It wasn’t a female fan. No woman would ever send a box of spiders to another woman, no matter how pissed off she was. The mere thought would make her skin crawl as much as the recipient’s. Trust me on this one.”
“So your stalker from Japan…?” Christian ventured.
“Best guess,” she said with a nod. “All he has to do is set a Google Alert and whenever my name pops up he’s privy to everything mentioned or written about me. Easy enough for him to track me down since I’m now associated with Davila–St. James Enterprises.”
“Fuck,” Rory raged. “All because of that kiss. I never should have—”
“Rory.” Bayli placed a hand on his forearm. “You don’t know it’s about that kiss. My name was linked to the show recently, ahead of official press releases. Anyone can be annoyed with me at this point.”
“Your name wasn’t out there when the video went viral and comments got nasty,” he reminded her.
Christian said, “He’s right. This isn’t about the show. It’s about someone—male or female, your fan or Rory’s—not happy to see the two of you together.”
Rory could spit nails. He needed air—and answers. He marched past them and grabbed his leather jacket from the coatrack, then stormed out, with Bayli calling after him.
He took the elevator downstairs and grilled Martin himself. The courier had indeed provided a business card, but it was a flimsy, poorly designed one that had clearly come out of a desktop printer, not professionally generated.
“Whoever sent that box,” Rory said to the front deskman and Tom, “could have easily hired someone off the street to bring it in and provide the business card, knowing you’d need credentials before you’d deliver. There’s no way we’re going to figure out who the ‘courier’ or the sender is. Damn it.”
Rory strode past the two men on his way out. Another building employee pulled open one of the tall doors for him and a gust of wind blew in. And sent a small white envelope skittering across the marble floor, from under the edge of one decorative tree planter to another. Rory scooped it up.