Page 69 of Mistaken Identity
“My brother.”
“Your brother?”
Hunter nods his head. “Yeah. The thing is, you haven’t met Drew yet, and like I say, he’s away right now, in the Caribbean. He’s not due back for a while, but I’m sure he’ll call, or just walk in the door sooner or later… and when he does, it would be better if you didn’t mention Keira.”
I feel a stabbing pain in my heart, but swallow it down. “Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s kinda awkward. He probably wouldn’t like me borrowing favors from his ex-girlfriend, but she’s the only private investigator I know, and she’s really good at her job.”
“She’s your brother’s ex-girlfriend?” I can’t believe I’m hearing this. It can’t be true, can’t it?
He nods his head, confirming what he’s just said. “They dated for a while, but Drew ended it and Keira didn’t take it too well.”
“So, when she was talking about falling in love, she was thinking of him?”
“I imagine so.”
“I see. I—I’ll keep quiet then.”
“Great. Thanks.”
My relief is overflowing now, and I turn around and float out of his office and back to my desk.
***
Hunter
What a week…
I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster, and I don’t know how to get off.
From the moment Livia showed me those photographs, it’s been a never-ending stream of worry. Obviously, the pictures themselves were a cause for concern, as was the mystery of who’d sent them, and what else they had planned. But then, there were so many other strange things happening, too. For example, I couldn’t understand Livia’s reactions to Keira. She was grateful for Keira’s involvement – any fool could see that – but she was also being really weird. She withdrew into herself whenever Keira was around, or even when I spoke about her. To start with, I put that down to Keira being a stranger, and Livia not wanting to share her story, but even after Keira came here yesterday and revealed that she’d discovered who Livia’s stalker was, there was still something odd about Livia’s behavior. I tried to make allowances for her tiredness, for the stress I knew she was under, but it seemed there was more to it than that. Except she’s not been in a fit state for me to ask her.
She’s been quiet all week – understandably – and I sent her home yesterday. I think the relief of knowing it was all over had finally gotten to her, and she looked like she was going to collapse. I wanted to go with her, but there was too much to do here, and I wasn’t sure she wanted my company. She’d run out of here when I offered to drive her home, so I didn’t think she’d welcome the prospect of me actually going back to her place with her for an entire afternoon.
I can’t deny I was disappointed, and surprised, when Livia wouldn’t let me see her home on Monday. I’d kept her close all day, inviting her into my office, even when she didn’t need to be there… like when Preston came down to tell me about his meeting with Jim Nichols. Her presence wasn’t required, but having her there proved to be yet another revelation. She really knew her stuff, and it couldn’t have been that she’d done her research, either. She didn’t know Preston had gone to see Jim Nichols that morning. Come to that, she didn’t even know who Jim Nichols was until I told her. But she knew about Ecstatic. She knew what they did, and their background, and that impressed me.
It didn’t impress me as much as what happened after Preston left, though. She took so much interest in the business, then, showing an amazing understanding of what was going on. But it was more than that… it was better than that. She understood me, and why this matters so much. I desperately wanted to thank her for caring, but I could see how vulnerable she still was and I knew I’d have to bide my time.
Even so, I wasn’t taking no for an answer about seeing her home, and although she bolted, clearly in tears, and didn’t come back when I called her, I wasn’t about to let it lie. I ran back to my office, grabbed my keys, and followed her. I kept my distance, so I wouldn’t spook her if she noticed me, and I stayed behind her, all the way back to her place… which is in Allston, in a worryingly insecure apartment block. The street itself is nice enough, with houses opposite, and family cars outside. I parked further along the street, far enough away that she wouldn’t see me, but close enough that I could watch her in my mirrors, and I waited until she’d gone inside. She ran all the way, clearly still scared, and a part of me wished I’d insisted on bringing her home, or better still, taking her back to my place. She could have stayed in the guest room… no strings. I might ache for her, but even I know this last week hasn’t been the time for thoughts like that.
It’s been a time for worrying, and for following her everywhere she’s been. So, after I’d seen her safely home on Monday evening, I drove back to the office and picked up my jacket and laptop, before driving back to my place. I didn’t sleep very well, but the next morning, I got up early and drove over to Livia’s apartment again, waiting outside until she appeared, and then I followed her into the office. That evening, I repeated the process, having decided I wouldn’t suggest I’d see her home again. I wasn’t sure I could handle being rejected a second time. Besides, she’d driven really erratically on Monday night, and I didn’t want a repeat performance. It was bad enough that I felt she was under threat from an unknown stalker, without worrying about her dangerous driving.
We carried on like that, morning and evening, and I’d have gone on for as long as it took, but after Keira came to say she’d found out who Livia’s stalker was, I felt like I could stand down… which was weirdly disappointing. Livia didn’t need me anymore. Not that she’d needed me in the first place, of course. She’d dismissed my offer of help… and that hurt more than I’ll ever be able to tell her.
I keep thinking that, when I came in here last Monday morning, I had such plans…
I was desperate to talk to Livia, to find out if she might feel the same way about me as I do about her… if there was any hope for us.
Having been so readily dismissed, I’m not sure I can face those questions now. Except I still want to know. I still need to know. The problem is, asking her now would look as though I was capitalizing on her situation, and my role in resolving it.
It seems I can’t win.
Not only that, but we’ve been so busy this morning, I’ve barely had time to think.
Livia clearly got some rest after she went home yesterday afternoon, and she’s come in this morning looking much more refreshed. She’s also been in and out of my office, driving me crazy. It’s not her fault. She doesn’t even have to try to look sexy. She just does.
I stare at my computer screen, trying to focus on the email I’m supposed to be reading, my mind filled with thoughts of Livia and the depressing prospect of another weekend which looks like it’ll be spent alone… again.