“This is Damian,” I answer.
The line is quiet. I check the call, but it’s active.
“Hello?” I try again.
“Oh my God, it’s really you, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice asks.
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“I can’t believe I actually got through,” the woman says. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
It’s Rita: it’s got to be.
“How did you get this number?” I ask.
“I was thinking,” the woman I suspect to be Rita says, “you and I should plan a getaway together.”
“Listen, I don’t know who you are or what it is that you want, but I need you to leave me and my family alone,” I tell her.
“I’ve always wanted to see the Galapagos Islands,” the woman says. “When do you think we should go?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I tell her.
“I know I can come on a little strong,” the woman says, “but that’s just because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“If you’ve never felt this way about anyone, how do you know that you come on a little strong?” I ask her. While she’s thinking up a reply to the question, I continue, “I think that I’m far from your first obsession, and I’m sure I won’t be the last. What you need to realize is that what you’re feeling for me—it isn’t real. You’ve got to leave me alone.”
“I expected this sort of thing from your sister,” the woman on the phone spits, “but I never thought that I’d have to convince you that dreams are worth chasing.”
“This isn’t a dream,” I tell her. “You’re the architect of a nightmare.”
“The architect of a nightmare…” she says. “I just love the way you talk!”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“You’ll recognize me by the black dress and the silver choker,” she says.
“Where?” I ask. It seems like one of those things that would be good to know.
The line’s already dead.
I grit my teeth and open my car door. Before getting in, I take a look around. I’ve got anything but a clear view, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone outside the perimeter of the property.
Finally, I get in my car and just go.
I don’t know how it is that people like Rita get to be so far gone without anyone noticing, but they do. A lot of times, people try to minimize the things their family and friends do—not that I can imagine Rita’s got a lot of friends.
I’m sure if anyone who knows Rita knows of her obsession for me, they just think it’s an innocuous celebrity crush. I’m sure they’d be the first to declare their surprise if they found out what she was actually doing.
Oh well, Trey’s waiting for me in the parking lot, so I should be safe enough for now. As for Danna, she knows how to get into the panic room if she needs to—not that Rita would ever make it through the front door with those guards we hired.
I’m lost somewhere in my thoughts when Dutch walks up to me.
“How was the trip?” he asks.
“It was okay,” I tell him. “Are we about ready to shoot?”
“Get to makeup and wardrobe,” he says. “We’re behind schedule.”