Loitering inside a shoe shop near the front windows, I looked up through my eyelashes to the mall beyond. The same man was there, sitting side-on but angled toward the front of the store. He wasn't actively looking this way, yet I was sure he had me fixed in his periphery. I'd first noticed him several days ago on the bus. Since then, I'd seen him four more times—each time somewhere unexpected.
He'd been sitting in an outdoor café opposite a publishing house I'd interviewed at downtown. I'm sure he wasn't there when I went in, but he was sitting there when I came out. The interview was a bust, which in retrospect was a relief—I'd hate for him to know where I worked. I didn't see him the next day, but the one after he'd walked in the opposite direction to me in an aisle at the local First Hill supermarket I visited to stock the pantry for my new studio apartment. Later that day, I spotted him when I was wandering Cal Anderson Park checking out my new neighborhood. And now, on the other side of the I-5 expressway, he'd been trailing me through the Pike Place Market district for at least an hour.
Daring not to stay in the high-priced shoe store any longer—I'd already fended off two condescending inquiries from salespersons dressed infinitely better than myself—I started to form a plan. What would Ray have suggested!? My heart sinking as I thought of my step-father, I pondered once again the injustice of him dying mere weeks into my freshman year of college. The man who had raised me, although he had no obligation to do so, deserved better than to die five miles from home, the victim of a distracted driver. My only comfort was that the vehicle which neglected to give way hit Ray's on the driver's side. They had assured me his death would have been instant and painless.
Find a group of girls. Pretend you know them and ask for their help.
I could almost hear Ray's words from years ago when he'd coached me on how to protect myself. A former military man, Ray taught me to be observant and trained me what to do if I was in danger. After five days of being followed by the same man, push had come to shove.
Putting down the outrageously expensive red-bottomed shoes I'd been considering, I looked through the window and contemplated my next destination. Not jewelry—one look at my inexpensive clothes and they'd send me on my way quick smart. Not lingerie, either. If I was being followed, the last thing I wanted was for him to think about me in that way! Spotting Forever 21 three shopfronts down, I smiled. It was the perfect place to hook up with a girls' shopping group, and with the mannequins in the front window, I'd be at least partially obscured inside.
Gathering my courage, I left the shop, ambling toward my next destination. Appearing to peer into the stores between the one I'd left and Forever 21, in reality, I was using the reflection in the polished glass windows to check whether my stalker was following me. My heart sunk when I realized he was. I took my time approaching Forever 21, thinking meeting a group outside the shop would be more believable than emerging on the periphery of a group afterward. Eyeing several prospects, I finally settled on a group of four girls approaching.
Led by a gorgeous girl with a chic black bob, the other girls seemed to defer to her. The leader's first friend had bleached blonde hair and was short but curvy. Beside her was a petite brunette with what I could only describe as a resting bitch face. Finally, there was a very tall and thin blonde who, despite looking like a supermodel, moved like a baby giraffe still getting used to their long limbs. Despite all four girls being dressed so much better than I was, the tall blonde and the black-haired girl looked kind. I felt confident approaching them—and they were the only group approaching the store—so psyching myself up as they approached; I set my shoulders back and tried to radiate confidence.
"Hey!" I called out, meeting the ringleader as she looked up at my exclamation. "Perfect timing—I've just got here!"
Not giving her time to pull back, I embraced her, whispering in her ear: "Please help me. I am here alone, and a man is following me. Can you pretend you know me so I can walk with you then get away?" Feeling the young woman's initial tension abate, she pulled back from me.
"Hey! So glad you could join us." Steering us into Forever 21, she ditched her friends in the main part of the store and maneuver us into the change rooms in next to no time, ensuring we could speak without being overheard.
"Thank you so much," I said once we were ensconced in a change room, supposedly trying things on. "My name is Ana Steele, and I graduated a few weeks ago from WSU, then moved to Seattle to try to get work in publishing. I've just moved into a studio in First Hill, and a few days back, I noticed this guy following me. He's showing up everywhere I go. I'm sorry to force myself onto you like this, but I'm really scared. I don't know anyone in Seattle, and I hope if he sees me leave here with people, he won't follow me anymore."
Introducing herself as Mia, she was surprisingly ok with my approaching her. "You've done the right thing," she assured me. "Safety in numbers and all that." She barely had a chance to say anything more when a male voice sounded from outside the closed curtain.
"Ms. Grey? Are you alright?" He sounded alarmed.
"Perfectly fine, G. Just helping my friend Ana, here. There's a man outside who's following her." Opening the curtain, Mia nodded to a man in his late twenties who was standing outside the fitting room. Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted button-up, he almost blended in but not quite. Something about his hair and bearing reminded me of Ray.
"Ana? This is my CPO Justin Gamboa. G, this is my new friend Ana Steele."
"Ms. Steele," Mr. Gamboa said formally, further confirming my sense he had a military background. "Can you describe the man following you?"
"Your CPO?" I asked, looking at Mia. My question made it clear I had no idea who or what that was.
"A bodyguard, of sorts," she admitted with a pretty blush. "My family are overprotective..."
"The man outside?" Mr. Gamboa asked again, listening as I outlined the physical description of the male who was trailing me, plus the other times I'd noticed him. I'd barely finished speaking when he was relaying my descriptions into his wristwatch.
"Ms. Grey? Ms. Steele? You need to remain in the store for at least the next fifteen minutes. Please let us take care of this."
I looked at my new associate, Mia. "I'm so very sorry," I stammered, appreciating what a burden I'd thrust upon a complete stranger.
"Don't sweat it," she replied, surprising me with a quick hug. "This is the most exciting thing to happen to me in forever! Now how about we join Lily, Stephanie, and Zoey and check out the latest collection? Lily pretends to like nothing here, but I've seen how much she buys!"
Checking out the price tags as we walk around the store, I could imagine why they bought little. The clothes were small, yet the prices were not—at least for someone like me! However, by the way the girls were passing items to shop attendants to place in the fitting rooms, I suspected it was more the other way around. These girls were probably unused to shopping somewhere so mundane. Despite my complete lack of knowledge of design and fashion, even I knew certain brands. Mia's friend Lily was brandishing her Gucci bag like a loaded weapon, and I would bet it was not a knockoff.
Standing close to Mia as she systematically made her way through the store, I was not unaware of the speculative looks I was receiving from Mia's friends, particularly the brunette. She wasted no time coming over, introducing herself.
"Hi, I'm Lily. I've known Mia and the Greys forever, yet I've never met you...?"
I had no idea how to respond. Without knowing Mia and her friends, I didn't want to implicate Mia through a lie.
Mia stared at her friend with distaste. "Lily, this is my friend Ana. She's my old friend from cello camp. If you listened to what people told you, you'd remember I went there in my sophomore and junior years. That's where we met."
Lily looked suspicious, first regarding Mia, then me. She could sense something was afoot.
"I don't remember you having a friend from cello camp?" Lily remarked. "You always said you hated it there, and everyone sucked."
"You remember, don't you, Stephanie?" Mia prompted, glancing at the suicide blonde.
"Um... I think I remember you mentioning a friend," she replied unconvincingly as Mia introduced them.
"I don't," the tall blonde said sweetly, "but it's lovely to meet you, Ana! I'm Zoey, and you have the prettiest eyes."
Lily glared at Stephanie, Zoey, then me, before declaring herself ready to try things on. "Not that I'd ever buy anything from here,"she declared, lifting her nose in disdain.
"At least a quarter of her wardrobe is from here," Mia said in a whisper to me as Stephanie and Zoey followed Lily to the fitting rooms.
I stood beside Mia, commenting on the various outfits Stephanie, Lily, and Zoey modeled. With Stephanie, it was hit and miss. She didn't seem to have a sense of her own body, so kept selecting outfits that would flatter someone taller and less curvy. After four fails, Mia left to pull a few more flattering outfits for her to try. Zoey had a figure that made almost everything look good. The quintessential knockout, it would be easy to hate her except for her genial personality. In the few minutes between her change room appearances, I'd already pegged her as an absolute sweetheart.
Not a sweetheart was Lily. Similar in size and figure to myself, her preference for outfits were short and tight. Nothing I could imagine myself wearing in a million years, each time she emerged from the change room she preened in front of the full-length mirror before demanding opinions from Zoey and Stephanie. She completely disregarded me, which was honestly a relief—as was when Mia reappeared with a range of selections for Stephanie.
"Ignore Lily," Mia whispered, noticing Lily's rudeness to me as the latter retreated into the change room yet again. "We've known each other since middle school, so she thinks she knows everything about me."
"I really am sorry to have gatecrashed your shopping day," I murmured, hoping by now my follower might have decamped and I'd be able to head home.
"Don't be sorry," Mia beamed. "I have a feeling we're going to become good friends!"
The girls were at the registers spending a fortune when Mia's CPO returned.
"Ms. Grey? Ms. Steele's follower is still out there. I have called in backup, but it would be advisable for you to proceed to your luncheon destination directly. I believe you have a 1:30 pm booking? We have cars ready. Ms. Steele, if you'd accompany us we can ensure no harm comes to you?"
"Thank you so much!" I said to Mia's 'G.' "If you can just get me a block or two away from here, I'll be able to make it home from there."
Mia's CPO looked at her with a loaded gaze before announcing, "Actually, Ms. Steele, it would be best if you accompanied Ms. Grey and the other ladies to lunch."
"I couldn't. I mean, I can't" I admitted to Mia. "The sort of restaurants you'd go to aren't something I can afford." It embarrassed me that my means were so meager, but it was what it was. I could barely afford to rent a tiny studio in the dodgiest part of First Hill. Anywhere someone who owned a Gucci bag had lunch would clearly be beyond me.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mia said, linking her arm through mine. "My brother owns the restaurant—we go there all the time. I have a tab, so you won't need to pay." Looking at me critically for the first time, something seemed to occur to her. "Besides, you look as though you could use a little fattening up!"
It was awkward to admit it, but she was right. With a pitifully small savings account that needed to last until I found gainful employment, I'd been economizing everywhere I could. I wasn't starving; however, I was meal planning carefully, eating less than I might otherwise, and making every dollar count.
"Please come?" Mia cajoled. "I honestly can't take another lunch where Lily bags out all the 'cheap' things she bought, while also bragging how good they look on her!"
Glancing at Mr. Gamboa, he gave me a reassuring nod, and it was this that convinced me. His demeanor was so similar to Ray's, I felt I could trust him, and if he thought this was the best idea, I'd go along with it. Seeing me agree, Mia called the other girls to order.
"Time to go to lunch," she announced, guided by Mr. Gamboa who waited until another group of women was entering the store before leading us out. Sandwiched between Mia and 'G', surrounded by the other girls, I doubt my stalker noticed me leaving. As we walked from the storefront to the parking lot, seemingly out of nowhere, several other fit young men appeared and flanked us as we moved to the parking lot and toward two black Audi SUVs.
"Ana and I will take this one... You girls take the other," Mia announced, not stopping to listen to any arguments as she steered me to the frontmost of the SUVs, pausing as another man opened the year door for us. "Ana? This is Sawyer—he works for my brother," she explained as a second fit, handsome young man closed the door after us and then climbed into the front passenger seat beside Mr. Gamboa. The two exchanged a few words quietly enough that I could not hear them. Then Gamboa asked me to outline every time I'd recognized the man tailing me or when I'd felt as though I'd been watched.
Giving them every detail I could recall, it occurred to me I was with a group of people I did not know, in a city I barely knew, off to a destination unknown. The chances they were creepy were negligible, yet I'd feel more comfortable if I knew where we were headed.
"Where are we going for lunch?" I asked.
"The Mile High Club," Mia said, smiling sweetly. "It's in the Seattle Space Needle building," she said, explaining its name. "It can be a little stuffy, but the food is good, the cocktails even better, and since my brother owns it, we can always get a reservation there."
"You have a brother. Do you have any other siblings?" I asked as a way of furthering the conversation. Tired, emotional, and overwhelmed, I wish I could return to the safety of WSU, my house dorm responsibilities, and spending every free hour working at Clayton's or visiting Ray. My daddy hadn't raised a quitter—yet so far, Seattle had proved daunting.
"I have two!" Mia exclaimed before launching into a detailed discussion about her family. Leaning my head against the cool tinted window of the SUV, I half-listened as I fretted about where to from here. The man following me almost certainly knew where I lived. I couldn't afford to move elsewhere, yet it might not be safe to stay where I was. With only two suitcases and a few boxes of books to my name, maybe I should call Seattle a bust before it even started? But first, I'd get through lunch. Mia was right—I was hungry. And after her kindness protecting me, if she wanted it so badly, going to lunch with her was the least I could do!