Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I’d just poured out my specially prepared ginger and turmeric tea that promised me the immune system of a floor-licking toddler. All I needed now was a couple of episodes of Cheer on Netflix, and life would shift gears into the sublime. The chocolate-covered raisins I had poured into a bowl and balanced precariously on the sofa arm might have to be consumed for me to reach true nirvana.
Just as I picked up the remote control, there was a bang on my door. No one just turned up to my flat, not unless it was an emergency. I raced to my door and flung it open to find none other than Tristan towering over me.
He prodded at my face. “I preferred the cream.”
I pushed his poky finger away. “What are you doing here?” How did he get by the security at the front desk?
“The security in this building is horrible,” he said. “I got in using a key fob I bought on Amazon. That’s how bad it is.”
Why was he here at all? I hoped he wasn’t trying to move our date up. He wasn’t supposed to see me in novelty nightwear and a face mask.
“Thank you for the feedback.” I went to close the door but he caught it with his hand. The big, strong hands that had the ability to crush my bones into a fine powder. Later, I could think about why that was so appealing.
“Hey, I have some questions about that unauthorized payment you said left your account.”
“Just wait a minute. First you need to tell me how you found out where I live. Then you need to explain what in the hell you’re doing here. And then you need to leave. In that order.”
“I told you. It’s about the payments made to the charity. I think I might have remembered the name incorrectly. It’s not bringing up anything when I do a search.”
Had my building started spiking the cold tap with vodka? Was I passed out drunk on my sofa and this was all a bad dream? There had to be an explanation for the twilight-zone conversation I was having right now.
“What are you searching for and why?”
“The fraudulent payments from your account, and because it’s my job,” he said. “Sort of.”
Things were starting to make sense. Tristan was my dad’s stooge. Dad must have arranged to have Tristan bid on me at the auction, then hired him as some kind of security guard. “My dad sent you?”
He looked at me like I’d just said I liked to ride an elephant down Regent’s Street to work.
“Your dad? What does he have to do with anything? I dropped by because of the payment that flashed up on your phone. I didn’t want to call or message when we don’t know what we’re dealing with. If I remembered its name correctly, the company that took the payment out of your account has hidden their tracks well. I don’t want them to know we’re onto them.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, though a lot of what Tristan had just said sounded decidedly not okay. “So . . . you’re trying to help me?”
He widened his eyes and nodded like I’d just come from planet Stupider.
“How did you find out my address?”
“I’m an expert in cyber security. If I couldn’t find out your address given your electronic footprint—which is everywhere by the way—then I wouldn’t be able to call myself an expert.”
“So when you said getting involved in my bank issue is what you do, you mean it’s literally what you do.”
“Of course. What did you think I meant?”
I chose not to answer that. “I’m feeling a little freaked out,” I said instead. The guy hadn’t tried to cross the threshold of my apartment, but it wasn’t normal for a near-stranger to show up unannounced and tell you he found your address online.
“You might have reason to be. People who make these fraudulent claims from bank accounts can be tied to Russian mafia and even ISIS.”
“I mean you, Tristan. You’re freaking me out.”
“You’re a fine one to talk, given . . .” He looked me up and down. “Your face. And the cows.”
“But I didn’t show up at your door, having neither been invited nor given your address.”
“Oh, I see what you mean. I’m doing you a favor. I don’t normally get involved with shit like this. Call your father. He’ll vouch for me.”
I grabbed my phone from the console table just inside my door and called my dad. Tristan waited patiently, his head buried in his phone while I told my dad about Tristan wanting to help with the mysterious payments. After he assured me he’d trust Tristan with my life—and when that didn’t satisfy me, all his money—I was reassured.
“You’d better come in.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“Give me a minute to change and wash my face.”