Like a dream

CHAPTER-12. NOW

Sunshine peeps through my thick cream curtains as I'm seated in my office.
'Stacey, I need the list of materials required for Mrs Cullen's dress.' I say into the phone receiver to my personal assistant.
I place the receiver and massage my throbbing temples. For the past few days, whenever I close my eyes, all I could see is two headlights glaring at me through the rear view mirror. Even now I feel insecure while sitting inside a building with tight security. My eyes close gently as sleep is pulling me into its arms.

'Leila, are you alright?' I hear my assistant's voice
I open my eyelids forcefully.
'Well, I'm just tired. Didn't get enough sleep.'
'You look like a disaster with those bloodshot eyes' Stacey says handing me the papers.
I sigh and look over them. 'Stacey I need coffee.'
'Yeah. I'll get your usual coffee. Anything needed?'
'No. That's all.'
Stacey leaves the room and the door opens again and her head pops in.
'Leila, you heard about the Soho square incident?' she asks looking serious.
'What's that? You sound as if something bad has happened.'
'Last night a woman was robbed and attacked by a group and now she's in hospital.'
Man. Scary news always does know the perfect timing.
'Be careful!' she says closing the doors.
My hand reaches my Louis Vuitton tote handbag and I take out the pepper spray. 'Hey you pepper spray, I'm trusting my life with you' I say mentally as I squeeze it and place it in a more accessible place inside my handbag.
Somehow I try my best and finish all my work today in meeting up with the customers, inspecting the tailoring section and finish placing all the orders.
I walk to my car drained of energy, thinking about a nice warm shower. Getting inside my car, my eyes unconsciously dart to the rearview mirror. Reminding myself again that the stalker couldn't have known where I live, I drive my car out and head towards home. The ride is full of developing strategies to tackle any future stalker and while in the red signal I search for a safety app in my mobile and successfully install one.
After reaching my house, I walk to my front door and see many letters lying at my doorstep.
I stoop down to pick them before I unlock my house and get in. I place my car keys and the letters on the table in the foyer and go upstairs to my bedroom. Dropping my bag on the bed, I walk to the closet. I take out my stripey pyjamas and then go to the bathroom. I take off my suit and get in the shower. The lukewarm water feels good on my skin. The steamy water fogs my mind and makes it calm. I don't care about anything as long as I stand under the shower. But there have been times when I used to crouch down in the shower and shed tears as the warm water cascaded down my body.
I switch off the shower and get out of the cubicle. I put on my pyjamas, blow dry my hair and saunter downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing the kidney bean curry which has been sitting on my refrigerator shelf for three days, I smear them on a few slices of bread. I put them on a plate and make my way to the living room. I pick up the envelopes from the table in the foyer before lounging on the sofa. I cram a large piece of bread into my mouth as I read the letters. Most of them were from fabric dealers. And amidst, I find one without a sender name. I pick up the envelope and scan it thoroughly, before opening it. Nothing other than my name- Ms Leila Naidu was written in the front. I pull out the letter and open it. I am surprised to see a handwritten letter. To be honest, I am shell-shocked. I have never received a handwritten letter in my entire life. I mean who writes one these days. I begin to read it. And as I read, it's making my blood run cold. And I come to know that I'm being watched. Yes, I'm being watched.

Leila Naidu,

You were quick to realise you were being watched that night. But does it really matter? No, not really. Sorry to be intrusive, but you didn't realise that I've been following you around for the last two days. Don't panic. I am not as creepy as I might sound. I am just searching for something. Something that would make me feel better. But I don't even know if it ever exists. That's why I need you and I think this can go well between us if you choose wisely. Why were you there this Sunday? Why were you at that godforsaken place floating lanterns? Who are you girl? Who the hell are you? And do you know my secret? I'm stuck here and I need to get out of this. I know you do have some time to spare. After all, I've been watching you. Meet me at Cream Klub tomorrow by 6.00p.m. And let me tell you this ain't fun.

Oh my god! What does this even mean? Who is this person and what secret is he talking about? Why has he been following me around? I don't know anything other than that I'm in deep shit. Real deep shit. And should I go meet him, ignore him or call the cops? I just don't know what to do. Why is this happening to me? Why me? It seems like my life is not under my control anymore. Terrifying things happen again and again. And I don't know how much more I can take.