Chapter 8 of the continuing saga of Remy comes to us from Deborah Dera. Deborah traditionally ghostwrites articles and stories but is in the process of finishing up her first eBook to be released on the Kindle platform later this month. Keep your eyes peeled!
Next week’s chapter will come from RC Bonitz, author of A LITTLE BIT OF BLACKMAIL and A BLANKET FOR HER HEART, both available from Amazon or B&N. He’s looking forward to the release of A LITTLE BIT OF BABY, due in September.
The Spot Writers’ blogs appear at the end of this story. Don’t forget to check them out.
It’s not what you think.
This time the text message was from Jeremy. Remy sighed. Part of her wanted to answer him and find out what was really going on, but part of her was scared. What if Barbara really was the one sending the text messages? Their brief encounter the morning before was certainly enough to show Remy she leaned a bit towards the unstable side of life. But still – how had she gotten her number? From Jeremy? Had he let his guard down around someone he seemed to have such a dislike for? Had she gotten into his phone?
Please answer me.
Remy considered it, but left her phone on the counter in favor of a shower. She certainly didn’t owe Jeremy anything. Saturday mornings in the office were the busiest and she knew Irene would be out sick again. Remy would have to deal with the chaos of the Saturday morning routine and the awkwardness of Dr. Kendrick by herself.
As Remy basked in the shower steam and enjoyed the hot water cascading down her back, she couldn’t help but think back to her time out with Sam – no, no, Dr. Kendrick – the night before. She thought about his demanding demeanor in the office – his pride and joy – and then her thoughts drifted to his infectious smile and the genuine concern he had shown her the night before. Maybe he really had invited her to his place with nothing but honorable, protective intentions. Maybe Remy wouldn’t have minded if he had wanted more.
Shaking the thoughts from her head, Remy turned the shower off and grabbed her favorite fluffy towel. Wrapping herself snugly, she padded towards the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Just as she put the pot back on the warmer, her phone buzzed again.
I’m really sorry about Barbara. I hope she’s not bothering you. I’d really like to explain.
Shaking her head, Remy grabbed her coffee and headed back towards her bedroom. She pulled out her most comfortable pair of scrubs and quickly dressed while thinking about the phone.
Why won’t he stop texting me? Why is he being so persistent? She struggled with the idea of a man she’d known for less than two days feeling as though he urgently needed to explain himself to her.
Remy considered turning the phone off and leaving it home. What if she leaves me another threat, though, and I don’t know what it is? The thought was intimidating and Remy suddenly wished she had been able to convince Allison and Sarah to take the self-defense class she was too chicken to take on her own.
Gathering her jacket and purse, Remy headed towards the kitchen one last time. She reached to throw the cursed phone into her purse as another text came through.
Can I at least come in for a cup of coffee before you leave?
Come in, she thought? Coffee? What? How does he… And that’s when Remy realized the magnitude of her problem. She quietly snuck up to her front door and looked out the peephole, a wave of déjà vu washing over her. This time she didn’t see Barbara. This time it was Jeremy – alone – sitting on the stoop directly in front of her door.
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Catherine A. MacKenzie