Fleeting Glimpse Read online

  Standing in front of her clothes, she scans her blouses. Organized by color and grouped by sleeve length, her nose crinkles. “I have no idea what the weather will be. Chilly. I’ll go with that.” Turning to the other side of the closet, she searches for something warmer.

  Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans, boots, and her favorite pink sweater, she walks back into the bathroom. Shaking out her curly hair, the shoulder length bob hangs limp. “Ugh, I can’t go looking like a wet rat.” Opting for an updo, she pulls down a few tendrils of curls to frame her face.

  Theodore is hot on her heels as she runs down the stairs. “Meow, meooow!”

  “Yes, I’ll feed you. Quit trying to trip me.”

  His bowl of dry food is half full.. There is one last can of wet food on the shelf. “Here, fatty.” She scratches his head before walking out the door with her purse. Her breath hitches as she unlocks the mudroom door entering the garage. This time she makes sure the light is turned off and the door is locked, as she hits the garage door opener on the wall. Chilly air rushes at her. Shivering, Chandra is grateful she chose a sweater.

  The early morning sun offers brightness but no warmth. She cranks the heater as she backs out. Chandra pauses at the end of her driveway, making sure the door closes. Keeping her speed in check, she drives as fast as she can to the gate. Her left foot taps the floorboard. “Let’s go already.”

  The dash clock says she has less than forty minutes to get to the other side of the city. Chandra winces. With traffic, she’ll be lucky to be there with ten minutes to spare. “Crap, let’s go.” She glares at the gate.

  As it swings outward, Chandra inches forward, driving out onto the main boulevard before the gate is fully open. “Finally.” Driving a little too fast, she makes her way through the suburbs and hits the freeway, heading to downtown Manchester.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Armed with a hot coffee, I’m waiting at an outside café, a half a block down from the radio station. The steam from my cup swirls upward through the chilly air, spinning like a ballerina dancer. All week the radio advertised today’s big interview with horror author Chandra Willis. Because of that, there are quite a few gathered outside the station entrance.

  Connecting my Bluetooth earpiece to my phone, I pull up the station on the Internet. Lifting my gaze, I have a clear view of the street. The weight of my legs rest on the balls of my feet as they bounce up and down.

  I check and recheck my watch. “Chandra, I can’t believe you would keep me waiting.” I clench my teeth, causing a dull ache at the base of my jaw line.

  “Can I get you a snack?”

  I shake my head at the annoying waitress who keeps checking on me. “No,” I say, lifting my coffee cup. “This is all I need.”

  “Okay. Well, let me know if I can get you something.” She smiles, winking at me.

  I angle my head down and follow her with my gaze. She’s a pretty girl, but not my type. Chuckling to myself, I’m not sure what my type is. Sitting up straight, I adjust my jacket as Chandra’s vehicle pulls into a parking spot almost directly in front of the radio station.

  A tingling ache fills my chest, and spreads throughout my body. “Oh, Chandra. You look perfect,” I whisper, clasping my hands together in a death grip to keep from waving at her. Watching her exit her vehicle, she glances in my direction. I can see her smile, moments before she is surrounded by her fans.

  Her pink sweater hugs her curvy figure, and my mouth waters at her voluptuousness. I can feel my pants tighten. The thick fabric contains my arousal, doubling the throbbing sensation. I watch as she signs a few books and rushes through the crowd into the station. A sneer creeps across my face. I can’t leave without saying hello.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Oh no,” Chandra gasps as she drives down the street leading to the station. A small crowd of fans are waiting for her arrival. Her hands are sweaty. She wipes them on her jeans. Blowing out a deep breath as she parks in front of the station, she smiles at the small swarm of fans.

  “Chandra Willis, will you sign this?”

  A young man shoves his book in front of her. She’s unprepared and scrambles looking through her purse for a pen. “Here you go.”

  Another fan sticks their book in her face, then another. Several clamor for selfies and hug her. She pushes through the crowd opening the door to the station.

  The young receptionist rushes over to her. “I’m Cathy. I’m so sorry. They weren’t here fifteen minutes ago. We had no idea anyone would show up at the station.” She helps Chandra in, then locks the doors.

  “Neither did I,” Chandra says, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “We’ll make sure you have a security escort to your car.” Cathy gives her a shallow smile. “I’m really sorry. We had no idea this would happen.”

  “It’s okay. Hopefully they’ll be gone by the time I’m done.” Chandra breathes out a long breath.

  “Oh, Ms. Willis, I know you probably don’t want to hear this now,” she says, pushing a button under her desk. “I’m such a big fan.” She leads Chandra through the doorway. She leans into the author. “I’ve read all your books.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I just bought your latest one.” She stops, placing her hand on Chandra’s forearm. “Can I just say, I read through chapter ten and had to get up and turn on all the lights.”

  Laughing, Chandra reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card. “Email me, and I’ll send you a signed copy.”

  Her eyes widen as she squeals. “Oooh! Seriously? Thank you.” Cathy does a little dance in the hallway. “This is so cool. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The conference room door opens. “Chandra.” Roger Pearson smiles.

  “Roger, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Chandra says.

  “Not at all. We’re having a meeting.” He glances at his watch. “You’re early as a matter of fact.”

  “Mr. Pearson,” the receptionist says.

  “Yes, Cathy?”

  “There were a few fans at the station doors. Can we make sure Mrs. Willis has an escort out?”

  He looks at Chandra then Cathy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just told Chandra there wasn’t anyone there roughly twenty minutes before she showed up. No one told me to have someone posted there. I had no idea they would swamp her at the door.”

  “Chandra, I’m sorry. We should’ve prepared better,” Roger says.

  “It’s okay. No one on my team thought there would be anyone here, either. It’s really okay.”

  “Thanks for telling me, Cathy.” He motions to others in the conference room. “This is Chandra Willis.”

  Two men and one woman stand and move around the table to shake her hand.

  “Nice to meet you all,” Chandra says.

  After the introductions, Roger leads the way to the studio. “This is where we will do the radio show. I’m just going to ask a few questions about your books. How you got started and let you give the audience an update on where you plan to be over the next few weeks.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Chandra stuffs her clammy hands into the pockets of her jeans. Sweat is beading along her hairline. She forces herself to breathe slowly, trying to contain the quiver in her voice.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m truly sorry about your fans.” Roger smiles at her as she sits in the seat at the table in front of one of the microphones.

  She nods. “I am.”

  “Okay then. Let’s do this.”

  ***

  At the end of the interview, Roger gives Chandra thumbs up to remove her headset. “You did great,” he says, walking towards her. “Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”

  “No, not at all. You made me feel at ease.” She wiggles a finger at him. “Don’t ask me to do it again, though.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t like the spotlight, Chandra. Most authors love getting in
front of their fans.”

  “I love to talk to my fans.” She waves her hand over the desk and microphones. “These large-scale interviews, they make me way too nervous.” Following Roger out to the lobby, she’s greeted by a large vase of roses sitting on the front desk. Two dozen white, with one lone pink one in the center. It’s the exact shade of pink as her sweater. “Those are beautiful,” she says, smiling at the receptionist.

  “They are,” Cathy says.

  “Your boyfriend has great taste,” Chandra sniffs the pink rose.

  “Oh, no, they aren’t for me.” She winks. “They’re for you.”

  Stepping back, Chandra touches the base of her neck. “For me? I…I don’t understand.”

  The young girl shrugs. “They were delivered while you were doing your interview.” She points at the bouquet. “There’s a card. I bet they’re from one of those fans out front earlier.”

  Chandra’s mouth pulls into a tight smile. All eyes are on her, waiting for her to read the card. A slight wave of nausea crests over her. “Either that or my publisher ordered them.”

  Roger peers out the entrance. “It seems your fans are gone, but I’ll walk you to your vehicle just in case.”

  “I appreciate that. I’m right in front of the station.” Lifting the bouquet, she smiles at everyone. “Have a great day,” she says walking out.

  Roger takes the bouquet from her as she unlocks her door. “These are very pretty.” He places them on the floor of the back seat.

  “They are. I can’t imagine a fan spending money like that on me,” Chandra says.

  “You’d be surprised what fans will do these days.” He closes the car door. “I hope I get to interview you again, Ms. Willis. I have a feeling after this book tour, we will have to bring you in through the back due to the mobs of fans that will show up.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you again.” Chandra locks her door, retreating in the safety of her car.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Driving away from the curb, she pulls the clip out of her hair, shaking her head. She runs her fingers through the loose curls, sighing as the headache trying to take hold subsides. She’s about fifteen minutes from home when her agent’s ringtone blares through her speakers. “Hello, Jane.”

  “You were fantastic. We sat here listening to the whole thing.”

  “It was a simple interview. Nothing special.”

  “Not according to Roger. He said you were mobbed by some fans?”

  “I wouldn’t say mobbed, but there were more than I thought would be there. Heck, I didn’t think anyone would be there.”

  “I guess I should’ve thought about that. After the sales report of your latest book, I should’ve realized fans might be showing up more and more to your events. Anyway, social media is buzzing about it. Your fans are clamoring for an AMA. We may have to arrange one with call-ins.”

  Chandra shakes her head. “What’s an AMA?”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “No. I don’t want to answer questions.”

  “Why? They love you. You can see that.”

  “With the tour coming up, I can do Q and A’s at the book signings. That’s enough.” Her head is spinning as she thinks of excuses to get out of doing another radio interview.

  “You’re going to have to get over your shyness. I don’t understand why you have such a hard time with public appearances. I understand today might have been a little bit off-putting, but to be honest, Chandra, this is something you’re going to have to get used to. Better sooner than later. Hang on a minute.” Jane’s muffled conversation filters over the Bluetooth. “Okay, I’m back. Where were we?”

  “You were saying I didn’t have to do another radio interview.”

  “Ha, good try. All right, if I can get to the signing tomorrow, I’ll be there. Don’t hold your breath though. Adam will be there, and he has a preliminary itinerary for you to go over. Your tour will start in two weeks.”

  Chandra’s shoulders droop as the weight of the impending tour hits her. “Oh, fun.”

  “Stop it. We have you staying at pet-friendly places. Theodore will be well-taken care of. Talk to you later.”

  “Oh wait, thanks for the flowers.”

  “What flowers?” Jane asks.

  “The bouquet you had delivered to the radio station.”

  “I didn’t have any flowers delivered to the station.”

  “If you didn’t, who did?” Chandra’s fingers wrap around the steering wheel. Her knuckles turn white. Her stalker pops into her head.

  “I’m not sure, maybe a fan. Maybe Adam. He mentioned he thought you would be nervous about doing this interview. He’s way more thoughtful than me.”

  She forces herself to breathe. “Okay. I’ll call him as soon as I get home.”

  “Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  The line goes dead. Silence fills the vehicle just as she pulls through the gates of her neighborhood. Parking in her garage, she walks to the mailbox. Returning, she stops midway, and looks over her shoulder. Her body shivers slightly. Glancing around, she sees no one. “It’s probably Mr. Franks just waiting to pounce on me.” She looks at his windows, seeing if there is any movement as she walks back into the garage. She closes the door before lifting out her flowers.

  Theodore stands at the ready, scowl and all, as she enters her home.

  “I’m gone for a few hours and this is what I get? Quit glaring at me.”

  He huffs and turns his butt towards her, prancing away.

  Placing the mail, flowers, and her purse on the counter, she returns to the mudroom to grab a box of canned food from the pantry. Filling the big fat kitty’s cupboard, she’s his new best friend as he rubs his face against her knee. “Now you love me, huh?” She lifts him just enough to give his head a kiss.

  “It’s dark in here,” she says glancing around the house. The only sunshine entering her home is coming from the opaque sliding glass door. Sighing she remembers she didn’t have time to open the blinds this morning. She quickly pulls back the heavy drapes from the windows. The shear drapes obscure the view from the outside, giving her a sense of privacy, still letting light through.

  “It may be a false sense, but I can’t live in a dark home,” she says as she uses the remote to make the glass door clear, letting full sun into her home. She grabs her mail and flowers from the counter and carries them to the table. Setting the bouquet in the center, she sniffs the pink flower one more time before opening the small card tucked between the leaves.

  Your interview was fantastic.

  An uncomfortable quiver settles low in her stomach. “Stop, Chandra. You’re making more out of this than you should.” She grabs her phone from her purse, dialing Adam’s number.

  “Hey, Chandra. Congrats on the great interview today.”

  “Thanks. I hate those things. Your surprise helped. Truth be told, they made my day.”

  “What surprise?”

  “What do you mean—what surprise—the flowers, silly. How did you know pink is my favorite color, and roses are my favorite flower?” Silence fills her ear. “Hello, Adam?”

  “I’m confused, what flowers?”

  “Huh?”

  “What flowers? Chandra, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t send you any flowers.”

  “I came out of my radio interview, and the receptionist handed me a bouquet. I assumed they were from Jane. But Jane said she didn’t send them and thought maybe you did.” She pants out several sharp breaths.

  “No, sweetie, I didn’t send them. You need to take a deep breath. I can hear the crazy in your voice.”

  The hair on the back of her neck bristles. She falls into a chair at the kitchen table. Thoughts of escape race through her head.

  “Chandra? Are you still there?”

  “Yes—yes, I’m still here.”

  “Listen, it was probably just a fan. Jane mentioned
a crowd showed up at the station. She didn’t mention the flowers, though.”

  “Fans don’t usually send flowers. Stalkers do.”

  “Chandra, you don’t have a stalker.”

  “What about the guy I have seen at a few signings over the last few months?”

  “I think he’s a fan, nothing more.” Adam sighs on the other end. “I know you think the guy from your signings is out to kill you, but I bet, he’s just a regular fan. Couple that with you thinking you saw someone in your backyard, I’m sure your anxiety is on overload. You need to get a grip though.”

  Chandra doesn’t say anything.

  “I know that sounds dickish, but you have to start getting used to being the center of attention. It’s going to come with the territory.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Unless you quit writing books, you’re going to have fans. Some crazy ones, too.”

  “That’s one thing I can do.”

  “What? Stop writing?” Adam barks out a laugh. “You have three more books to write, you can’t go anywhere.”

  Chandra bites the inside of her lip. The weight of being trapped is pushing down on her. It’s a position she doesn’t like to be in. Maybe she could give back the advance and walk away.

  “Anyway,” Adam went on. “I don’t think the guy you thought you saw in your backyard is the same as the guy who sent the flowers. I think someone from your neighborhood decided to take an evening stroll. I mean, did the security find anything?”

  “No. Just some kind of dead animal a bird dropped.”

  “Don’t you think they would have found something?” Adam asks.

  The flowers aren’t as pretty now. She frowns at the bouquet. “I guess. Are you going to be at the meet and greet tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you at the book store at four thirty. We can get the books set up before the private party. Several boxes were delivered to the store. Not sure how many the owner expects to show up. From what I gather, he has invited some prominent people from the community.”