“Yeah, is this Emma?” she asks. “Yeah, hey, this is Danna, Damian’s sister. I played a bit of a trick on you and it was kind of mean…yeah, that was me. It’s just one of those things where I thought it would be funny, but it ended up going too far, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry and that Damian had nothing to do with it.”
I tap Danna on the shoulder and whisper, “Dinner.”
Danna rolls her eyes at me again.
Chapter Thirteen
Dinner and the Perils of the Trade
Emma
I’m sitting in the restaurant, and just like with the radio interview, I’ve made the mistake of arriving too early. At least this time, the only consequence is that I have to sit at the table alone for a few minutes.
It gives me a little time to reflect on what’s about to happen, though.
Danna is Damian’s twin sister, and although she was kind enough to call, apologize, and invite me out to dinner with her and her brother, I really get the feeling that she doesn’t really like me. A joke’s a joke, but it wasn’t too hard to see that the mea culpa was coerced.
When the two of them come into the restaurant, I see her first.
The guy working the front points Damian and Danna in my direction, and I get ready for whatever’s about to happen.
“Hey there,” Danna says, for the first time as herself to me in person. “I’m glad you could make it. Have you been waiting long?”
Half an hour.
“No,” I answer.
I’ve really got to stop getting to things early. It just creates a lot of waiting.
We sit down and share a few pleasantries. Danna apologizes again and I pretend like it didn’t bother me, and that after I found out what was really going on, I found the whole thing really funny.
“So, you’re not going to believe this—Damian, I forgot to tell this earlier,” Danna says out of the blue. “Today, you got another letter from that crazy lady,” she says. “Apparently, wedding plans are moving forward.”
I smile and chuckle because I don’t know that’s not what I’m supposed to do.
“She didn’t leave anything but the note this time, did she?” Damian asks.
“No,” Danna says. “She just wrote the whole thing using what may or may not be paint all over the road outside the house. I figured you’d see it when you got home, but I figured it might not be a bad idea if you’ve got a bit of a heads-up about it. She’s starting to sound a little desperate.”
“You’re not joking?” I ask.
“Sadly,” Damian says, “no. For the last couple of months, there’s been this woman who’s been sending me notes and leaving me weird crap—”
“Those flowers were pretty cool,” Danna says.
“Yeah, but the bag full of bloody tofu wasn’t,” he says.
“Bloody tofu?” I ask. “Flowers? Do you even know this woman?”
“No,” Damian says. “She’s never stuck around long enough for anyone to catch her in the act.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” I ask.
“We’ve already taken all of the precautions that we can,” he says. “I just didn’t want to worry you.”
“How can I not be worried?” I ask. “You’ve got a stalker.”
I’m starting to feel like a nag again, but I haven’t told you about the phone call I got while I was waiting for Damian and Danna to get here. I’ll give you more on that in a little bit.