“Go away!” I shout back, realizing just how angry I am. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit!”
“She’s a stalker, Jennie!” Grayson replies. “She’s been stalking me for the last seven months.”
“Oh, sure!”
“I have proof!” he calls back. I have to admit; he does sound sincere.
Stop it! Stop giving him the benefit of the doubt! It’s really unlike me. Normally I’m pretty immune to BS.
“Just leave, Grayson! I’m not coming back to work for you!”
“What’s your e-mail?” he calls out. Huh? Did I just hear that right?
“What are you—?”
“Give me your e-mail,” he tells me. “I’ll send you all the proof you need and then I’ll be gone.”
Part of me actually wants to give it to him, but I force that part to shut up. No. I can’t keep letting him control the situation.
“Nope!” I call out. “I need you to leave now, Grayson, or I’ll be calling the police.”
Just then, Melissa comes down the steps behind me, and just like she’s explaining the weather, calls out my e-mail address to Grayson. I whirl around and mouth, “What the fuck?” at her. She just smiles.
“Thank you!” he replies. “I’ll leave now, but check your e-mail in a minute and you’ll see all you need to see!”
I don’t even reply. I just sigh and let my shoulders drop as I look at Melissa. From outside, I hear Grayson get in his car and drive away.
“What is your problem?” I ask her. “Now he’s never going to stop harassing me.”
“I wanna see what he sends you,” she laughs as she dries her hair. “It’s probably all bullshit, but it’ll be entertaining!”
8
Grayson
Two days. It’s been two days since I last saw Jennie – the longest two days of my life.
“So…do you want me to line up any more girls?” Sheryl asks as she comes into my home office with a tablet in her hands. “Or have you decided you don’t want to—”
“Forget it,” I reply.
“So…just to be clear, that’s a no?”
“What’s it sound like, Sheryl?” My mood is terrible. Sheryl does the little hair flip she does when she’s feeling insulted, and I sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. No, don’t interview any more girls. I’ll figure something else out.”
“Okay.” I can tell there’s more she wants to ask me about, business related, but it can obviously wait, and she leaves me alone and heads back downstairs.
My neck and shoulders are tight. This is the longest I’ve gone without having them worked on in years – even a bad one. But the truth is that after what happened in the massage room between Jennie and me, I don’t think I can ever have another girl in there. I guess hiring a guy might work, but that’s just not my style.
Every time I pass that room on my way to the gym I’m reminded of the total clusterfuck that ruined everything. The cops showed up and dragged Cait away, kicking and screaming like the maniac that she is. She’s in jail now, and I finally got what I needed for the restraining order. But it’s too late.
I had Melissa’s license reinstated an hour later. I had five grand wired to her business account too. I was going to reimburse her for the business she lost anyway. No point in keeping up my little charade any longer now that I’ll never see Jennie again.
I sent her all the information she’d need to understand – the e-mails Cait sent me when she first became obsessed with me, the texts she sent when she somehow managed to get my number, the security footage of her driving by the gate and the photos Sheryl managed to dig up of her at one of my business conferences, lurking in the shadows snapping pictures of me with her phone.
She’s not a wife; she’s my stalker. And if Jennie had taken even a brief glimpse at the materials I sent over at her, she’d know that.
I guess she either didn’t look or doesn’t care. After all, it was her roommate who gave me her e-mail address, not her.