The next morning, before heading to work, Lina braved the cold on her way to the Ginger Bar. The crisp air nipped at her cheeks, but her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the mess of thoughts that kept crowding her head. The exchange of messages had shaken her. She needed answers.
As she reached the Ginger Bar, she spotted Tom behind the counter right away.
He was in his thirties and had a magnetic energy about him. Not tall, but impossible to ignore. His charisma came from something hard to pin down—an effortless mix of laid-back ease and natural presence.
A Caribbean background on his mother's side, his tight braids added to his unique style. His three-day (sometimes five) beard completed the look—casual yet confident, like he didn't care if it was perfectly put together or not.
He always wore Tupac shirts, swearing the rapper was still alive and defending that belief with passion. His slightly scruffy vibe reflected his spontaneous nature. He smoked too much, and his yellowed teeth were proof, but he wasn't bothered by it. His offbeat humor and brutal honesty made it tough to figure out if you were supposed to laugh at him or with him.
"Tom!" Lina called as she neared.
He looked up, a teasing smile spreading across his face.
"Hey, Linou! How's the most beautiful of all the beauties doing?"
Act casual...
Lina froze for a second, thrown off by the comment that seemed more like another joke. Then she snapped out of it, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
"Cut the crap. Tell me, why did you change your number again?"
Her tone was sharper than she intended, but the annoyance was clear despite her effort to stay calm.
Tom raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused.
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
He chuckled lightly, but Lina wasn't in the mood to laugh.
"You're playing with my nerves with your stupid texts," she said, narrowing her eyes.
Tom set down his towel and stared at her, completely lost.
"What texts? What are you talking about?"
A silence settled. A wave of confusion washed over her.
Damn, he's not lying.
She grabbed her phone, rereading their recent exchanges, searching for a clue she might have missed.
"Wait, wait…" Tom squinted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You mean you've been texting some guy thinking it was me? Don't tell me you sent him nudes?"
Lina nodded, completely lost.
"I thought it was you… Who else could it be?"
Tom shrugged, a bit mockingly.
"A clingy ex? A stalker? A secret admirer?"
He blew her a playful kiss, then, seeing the confusion still on her face, placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone turning more serious.
"Look, Linou, block the guy and move on. He's just some creep looking for attention."
Without missing a beat, he added,
"By the way, thanks for Friday."
He grabbed his towel again, washing a glass, his mood light.
"Élo told me you insulted some guy there."
He chuckled, but Lina wasn't listening anymore, lost in her thoughts. Who the hell is it? Why?
"Hey, Earth to you!"
She jumped, jolted back to reality by Tom's voice.
"Sorry, I was somewhere else. What were you saying?"
He leaned in a little closer, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.
"I was just saying thanks for Friday. And you know what?"
He lowered his voice, like he was sharing a state secret.
"She had three orgasms."
He puffed out his chest, clearly proud of himself.
Lina felt a flash of irritation rise, but she hid it behind an ironic smile.
"She probably faked it," she said with a feigned casualness.
Tom burst out laughing, not the least bit offended.
After a good half hour of talking about his night, Lina finally left. On her way to work. But her mind? It was somewhere else.
Her thoughts collided around those texts. Anger. Shock. Disgust. Someone had clearly messed with her, but who?
Then, suddenly, it hit her.
She thought back to the very first message. Straightforward. Professional. Just a simple courtesy to thank her for her work. But after that, the messages had taken a strange turn. Ambiguous. Persistent. And above all, the sender had deliberately hidden their identity.
Her blood ran cold.
She remembered that intense gaze at the end of the night. Mr. Hocq. He hadn't taken his eyes off her. At the time, she'd brushed it off as just observation… but now? It felt more like a twisted approach. A sick game he'd jumped into the moment she shot back a reply.
A shiver of disgust crawled up her spine. The guy seemed professional, but at home, he was probably hiding some dark shit in his basement...
She clenched her fists.
Back at her place, she grabbed her phone with a quick motion. Her anger was practically ready to explode.
Lina:
"I know who the fuck you are. Try that shit again and I'll drag your pervy ass through the mud and file a harassment complaint so fast your dick won't know what hit it."
Barely had the message been sent when another popped up on her screen.
Unknown message:
"Let's meet."
Lina froze. Her heart skipped a beat. Part of her, the impulsive side, wanted to call him out and say exactly what she thought of his little game. But another voice, the more rational one, reminded her that was a very, very bad idea.
Silence.
She exhaled slowly, then, without a second thought, blocked the number.