“We’re back to this.” I audibly exhaled. ”It’s nothing. You know I have an active imagination.” I blew it off, hoping she’d drop it.
“Ever since your dad died,” she commented with an edge to her tone.
I ignored it. “After lunch are we going across the street to the dress shop?” I tried, as a last desperate attempt, to change the subject.
“Yes. I hope it’s on sale,” she squealed. I was relieved at my success. Once Myra was on a mission, it was hard to sway her away from it. “I can’t wait for you to see it. It’s so freakin’ awesome.” Her eyes turned into a dreaming teenager.
“Have you had a chance to decide?” Noah said as he approached the table, startling me a little.
“I haven't looked at the menu. Myra, do you know what you want?”
“I can give you more time.”
“It's okay. I know what I want.” Myra kept her eyes on the menu to help her make a fast decision.
”Great. I'm ready.” His eyes did seem particularly glued to mine. Maybe Myra was right for once.
“I’ll have the artichoke pasta,” Myra answered, not not taking her eyes off the menu. If she had, the teasing would be brutal.
“I’ll have the daily special.” I quickly added, ripping the menu away from Myra to hand them over quickly before she noticed.
He made me feel uneasy. So much so that I was tempted to ask for another waiter. I decided against it. Myra would never drop the subject. It wasn’t anything, anyway. Boys can’t help themselves when it comes to pretty girls, not that I was pretty or anything. They just can’t help themselves, period.
After lunch, it was straight to the clothing shop. The dress in the window was black, sleek and super short.
“Is that the dress?” I asked, pointing to the window. By her description, it had to be.
“Yep, that’s it. Isn’t it super cute?” She squeaked.
“It sure is, Myra.”
“It’ll make me three times the cost in tips just tonight. The guys will go crazy.” Her eyes lit up like a firework show.
“I’m sure it will.”
She grabbed the dress and headed straight to the fitting room. “What do you think?”
I had to admit, it was cute. It had spaghetti straps; the waist ran along her curves as if the dress had been painted on her. The bottom flared out just enough to give the skirt some swaying power. Her already supermodel-long legs appeared even longer.
“I love it.”
Our sales lady, Monique, helped Myra pick out a pair of black heels. I was a little jealous she could wear shoes like that. I couldn’t wear anything higher than flats. I was clumsy enough with bare feet.
“You like?” Myra asked me.
“I do. I didn’t think your legs could get any longer. I stand corrected.”
She giggled. “I know.”
After picking out jewelry, an extra pair of shoes, and a completely different outfit, Monique over-graciously thanked Myra for her business. I guess she was extra grateful since Myra probably just paid the girl’s mortgage.
“Well, let’s get back to town before we’re late for work,” I suggested while heading for the door before she could be roped into buying more.
I couldn’t wait to get out of there. My uncomfortable feeling was getting more powerful by the second. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. Something, someone, caught my eye from across the street. I stopped mid-stride. Our waiter from the restaurant was watching us. He wasn’t just looking at us. He was sitting at a table sipping coffee, with a smug look on his face, staring straight at me.
Maybe I’m wrong, I thought to myself. Deciding to test my theory, I gradually moved to the other side of the double entry doors. Not only did his eyes move with me, but so did his head. He was making it obvious. I moved back to my original position, and his eyes followed. I knew I hadn’t imagined that.
“Um, Myra let’s go… Now!” I said through clenched teeth.
“What the crap?”
“Let’s go, Myra.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you when we are safely driving away from this town.”
“Stop, Vanessa.” She threw up a hand. “What’s your major malfunction? You’ve been acting weird all day.”
“Look…” I turned my head toward her. “Look at the restaurant. Now look to the right of the door and three tables over. Anyone look familiar?”
“No,” her words were slow and inquisitive.
“Our waiter is watching us.”
“I don’t see anyone,Vanessa.”
I turned my head back to the restaurant. I didn’t see anyone either. “He was there, sitting in that seat.” I pointed to the chair on the left side of the table, which was still slightly pulled out.
“Well, I don’t see anyone. Maybe he was taking a break and just noticed us over here. Maybe he wasn’t looking at us at all. He could’ve just been looking in this direction, mindlessly.” She paused. “Maybe you’re being paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid, Myra.”
“You’ve been…” Her words were slow and careful.
“What, Myra?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What have I been?”
“Honestly?”
I nodded. “Spit it out.”
“You’ve been kinda paranoid lately.”
“Hmph.” I wasn’t surprised to hear her accuse me of paranoia. Weird things were amidst. “Let’s get out of here.”
Seven
That night was one of those nights that I wished business was slow. I only reserved that particular wish for desperate times because I always greatly needed money, but tonight my mind was everywhere else. The thought of the weird guy that seemed to be stalking me and the waiter spying on us at the dress shop wouldn’t leave my thoughts. I wasn’t concentrating on my job.
As
