This is the nineteenth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII and Part XVIII before continuing.
“There you are,” Angela said when Eliza finally called her back. “I was about to call the LAPD.”
“Sorry. I had a late night last night.” Eliza yawned as if to prove her point. “But I was probably in the safest possible place, so don’t bother calling the police.”
“Why? Where were you?”
“Roger’s house.”
There was a moment of silence before Angela said, “I hate you.”
“Don’t. It’s not that great. I mean, well, that part was great, yeah, but…”
“You are really not helping your case here.”
“Sorry, I’m just kind of freaked out right now.”
Angela was amazed at how quickly she could go from jealous to concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just that he left before I did this morning, and since we were at his place, he apparently felt he shouldn’t leave me alone there without showing me his panic room.”
Another moment of silence. Then: “He has a panic room?”
“That was my reaction, too. And the answer is yes. He even showed me how to lock myself in and everything. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” Angela was not proud to recognize a note of hysteria in her own voice.
“That’s what I said. All he had to say was ‘just in case’.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah. I mean, I guess it’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Sweet? In what world is that sweet?”
“Hollywood.”
Angela took a moment to remember that, despite their near-constant contact, she and her best friend still lived in different worlds on opposite sides of the continent.
“It means he wants me to be safe. He doesn’t want anything to happen to me.”
“Or he just doesn’t want the liability of anything happening to you in his home.” Angela regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. It’s just that now I’m really worried about you. Should I be worried about you?”
Eliza didn’t respond.
“Not helping.”
“Sorry. I’m fine. I am. Really. But, yeah, I’ve had the occasional stalker and Roger has had people show up at his door convinced they were married and/or had children together.”
“Really? How did they know where he lived?”
“A quick internet search. It’s really not that hard these days.”
“Has anyone shown up at your door?”
Eliza hesitated. “A few people.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ve had one of these panic rooms installed in your own place, right?”
“I’m still living in my apartment. Fortunately the doorman is awesome and used to this sort of thing, but yeah, I think I’ve kind of outgrown the place at this point.”
“So what’s the next step? Buy some souped up house and a bodyguard?”
“Actually, that’s the good news I have. Roger and I have been talking about the possibility of me moving in with him.”
“Really? That’s fantastic! Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“But seriously, you’re getting a full-time bodyguard, right?”
To be continued…
Thanks for reading! If you like what you see here, you can sign up for my newsletter at the top of this page. You’ll never miss an update and you’ll get a free short story every month that won’t be posted on the website. No spam, I promise!