Chapter 13

Addison rolled over and reached for her alarm clock, attempting to push the button that would verbalize the time for her. She couldn't see any light in the room through her curtains, so she hoped it wasn't too early. She reached and reached but her fingers didn't come into contact with an alarm clock. Or a bedside table for that matter. With a gasp she sat up straight, memory of the night before coming back to her.

"Daniel," she said out loud, hesitantly calling his name, half fearful he would answer and half fearful he wouldn't.

When she received no response she tried calling for him again a little louder. Again, no response. She shoved her unruly hair back off her face and climbed off the surprisingly high bed, reaching out to steady herself against a tall post at what she thought was the end of the bed. Odd, she didn't think the type of bed she was beginning to envision suited Daniel Mercer at all.

She made her way around the apartment, taking note of the front door, which she intended to use just as soon as she took care of her most immediate need. Feeling the walls and sparse furniture in between, she discovered a strangely utilitarian bachelor suite with very little furniture or personal belongings. Once she used the washroom and washed her hands, she decided to give into her curiosity and have a quick 'peek' around.

Addison figured it wasn't technically snooping since she couldn't see. She was simply exploring her environment and if anyone asked, she just went the wrong way while searching for the door and ended up accidentally rifling through Daniel's drawers. She discovered he didn't have a lot of clothing options. He wore jeans and cotton T-shirts, he favoured boxer briefs, and all of his clothes were folded with military precision. He also had a leather coat and one suit, which was likely used for formal occasions when he needed to attend with Tyson King.

There were no pictures that Addison could find, either on the walls or on his desk. There was no TV. She found a laptop and a printer on the tiny desk, which she'd failed to notice the night before for obvious reasons. There was a couch, but no living room chairs or anything else that could be described as comfortable. There was a tiny kitchen table with two chairs that felt mismatched.

"I thought this guy was weird before," she whispered to herself.

There were no personal items whatsoever in the entire place. Curiosity drove her to start opening drawers in the kitchen, where she found the bare minimum of kitchen utensils and cookery. There were pots and pans, but again, just what was barely needed. There was one bowl, plate, cup, spoon, fork and knife. A chill slithered down her spine.

"This guy really doesn't like company."

And because it would drive her nuts if she didn't check, she went to rifle through the washroom. She found a razor, soap, deodorant and shampoo.

"Well, I'm done!" she said cheerfully, grabbing her purse and heading confidently for the door.

She was ready to leave and never come back. Addison scooped up her coat and knit purse and slipped out the door as quietly as she could. She quickly felt her way along the wall toward where she thought the stairs might be. She could hear sounds like people working out on equipment or sparring, but they were far enough away she wasn't sure if anyone would see her. She was positive she didn't want to be noticed doing the walk of shame from Daniel Mercer's place when they hadn't even done the deed.

She made it to the exit door without being stopped and was relieved to find the door opened easily for her without any alarms. She forced herself to calm down and count the flights of stairs down so she wouldn't lose track and end up on the wrong floor. Daniel had told her she lived thirteen floors below the security floor.

Only when she was safe in her apartment did her heart slow to its normal beat. Addison raked a hand through her messy hair and set her purse on the floor near the door in its usual place. With a deep breath, she forced herself to enter into a somewhat normal routine. She wasn't due at the orchestra today, Maestro wanted to work with winds only. Normally she would have been thrilled with a rare Monday off, but she desperately wished she had someplace to be.

She knew Daniel would come for her eventually. She sensed his obsession with her and also that something was off about him, which terrified her. But there was something within her that responded to him on a primitive level. She learned that much last night when he'd insisted she explore his body. Addison shivered as she remembered her sensitive fingertips passing over the ridges of muscles.

"Dammit," she growled, shaking her head in annoyance. "Get out of my head, Mercer!"

Straightening her shoulders, Addison stomped around the kitchen island toward her washroom and ran the taps for a shower. She didn't sing this time when she washed herself, irritated as she was at herself. Her movements were short and utilitarian as she gathered her long hair on top of her head so it wouldn't get wet. She washed the long, thick mass only once every few days. It took too long to dry and it frizzed if she washed it too often.

She finished her shower and dried off before covering her curves in an enveloping robe. She'd had it for so long it was ratty and threadbare in places and there were holes in the pockets. She loved it too much to replace it though. She brushed her teeth and applied her favourite hemp lotion to her face and hands, breathing in its scent of tropical flowers.

Feeling somewhat more normal, Addison opened her laptop on the kitchen island and checked her emails while chopping up a bowl of fruit for breakfast. She half listened as an electronic programmer read them to her one at a time while she munched on a selection of strawberries, cantaloupe and honeydew melon. She reached over and hit the delete key on an email shopping promotion.

She rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance at the next one. Somehow Erica's voice came across as annoying even through the neutral, electronic voice of her email reader. The younger woman wanted Addison's opinion on wardrobe for the spring performance, which so wasn't Addison's responsibility.

"Plus I'm freaking blind!" she snapped, deleting the email.

Feeling immediately guilty, she sent Erica a quick email suggesting a few colours and styles the other woman could consider. Addison also mentioned the name of a flutist she knew was very much into fashion and constantly complained about wardrobe. She knew the two were unlikely to make a match of it, but maybe Erica would take the hint.

The next few emails were from Maestro, running suggestions by his First Chair. Addison wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and gave the emails her complete focus for the next hour and a half. She was just as invested as the Maestro in making the orchestra the best it could be. They made a good pair, equally investing in the music, the administration and the politics. Addison smirked as she hit 'return' on the last email. If only she was a little more willing to show up and pimp herself out to the investors, she would make the Maestro a perfect work wife.

Addison arched her back on the stool where she sat, working the kinks out of her muscles. She had one email left to to check. She stood up to clean her breakfast as she listened to her electronic reader. She froze in place stomach plummeting as the subject line was read: YOUR BIGGEST FAN.

She knew she should stop the reader from continuing, but her feet remained frozen to the floor, her limbs too stiff to carry her the few feet to the laptop where she could snap it closed. The normally cheerful electronic voice, now eerie and unpleasant, filled her kitchen.

I WANT YOUR FINGERS TO WRAP AROUND ME

LIKE YOUR MUSIC WINDS AROUND ME

ADDISON, YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL,

SO FULL OF LIFE, SO PERFECT,

SO BREAKABLE.

I WANT YOU, ADDISON.

IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU

NO ONE CAN.