“I’m glad you think so.” Such was my weak reply to the compliment. I shot the director (who was singing my praises, currently) a small smile, and waddled back to dressing room.

I slid down into my chair, huffing tiredly.

To tell the truth, I didn’t want to go home. What if that bozo was waiting inside of my house?

I’d lock up everything before I left (always!) but I had this itching fear that he’d be in there, just waiting.

There was a knock on the door, and I snapped up immediately, gripping the handles of my chair as I called.

“Come in!”

The door swung open, and in its frame stood Ray. I tried hard not to heave a sigh at the sight of him.

“Hi.”

He gave me an observing stare, and I shuffled away, fiddling with the edge of Victoria’s robe.

“Mind telling me now about why you were so incredibly jumpy?”

Damn it…this guy can read me like an open book. Cursing my obviousness, I turned my head away from him.

“It’s nothing to write home about.”

He sat opposite me, calculating me.

Oh, no…