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“Sorry. I thought you were stating a fact, not asking a question.” I center myself to keep talking. “What sort of things would you ask me to do for you?”

“Take care of me,” he pants.

“That’s different for everyone. Nonna needs me to take her to appointments and organize her medication. My…” I choke on the word boyfriend. “My sister had me wash her clothes and do her chores.”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He sprints to the open bathroom and slams the door. I seize the opportunity to fish around in the cushions for my phone and turn it on.

He flushes, and I shove the phone into the cushion where it was, hoping Mav sees my location. We can forget lives as spies since I’m not sure he got any of my clues about Paul. He could assume I’ve been talking shit as usual. Personally, I’d prefer if this were a nightmare.

I lean against the couch and put my head between my knees.

“What’s wrong?” Paul shouts. “What’s under the sofa?” He marches over and I scoot away. As he lifts the dust ruffle, the couch overturns. The kitten screeches, and I coax them to me.

“You’re scaring the baby.” I coo at the cat. “It’s nothing to do with the couch. It’s just hard. You’ve got a plan for what we’re doing, and I don’t know if Paul is your real name.” The truth is my best option.

“You’re worried.” His demeanor changes, and he reaches out to pet my arm. “I’m sorry. I’ll never hurt you.”

“Is Paul your name?” I ask again.

“No. But you knew that, didn’t you, Angel? You saw the real me from the beginning. From our very first time.” He sits cross-legged in front of me but retreats when the kitten hisses again.

My mind fills in the blanks of information. “We met on my website.”

“You danced just for me and sent me messages. But then it all stopped. I tried different names but couldn’t get to you.” His temper flares.

“I’m so sorry,” I lie. “My business manager handles access to my website. I was wondering what happened to you. I thought I did something wrong.” Sign me up for acting classes ’cause I need an Oscar for this shit. His mood swings vary by the second, and I can’t keep track.

“Oh no, of course not. I knew whatever happened wasn’t your fault.” He reaches for me but stops short, eyeing my feline protector. “You’ve been amazing, Angel.” His dull eyes come to life. “Remember the day we spent at Bagels and Coffee Inc? You were working so hard and so focused; you spilled your iced latte, and it almost got your laptop, but I had enough napkins to save it. You thanked me by name, Buddy. And you call me that in the videos.”

“I remember that day. Thank you.” I’d been so focused on editing videos that I didn’t notice the stranger who gave me napkins. I used to call my anonymous clients buddy. It’s not too personal but has familiarity. “Tell me your favorite part of the day we met.” So far, he’s been pushy and demanding in a non-threatening way, but he’s also delusional and sporadic. Could he be dangerous if the illusion is shattered? The kitten purrs and I relax.

“You were everything I dreamed of. Your smile lit up your face, and I knew I could make you happy. Since that day, we had our weekly date, and you never missed it. Not even when you had that terrible cold and your nose was bright red. You said you picked your skirt to match your nose.” He sighs dreamily, but then his mouth presses into a thin line.

Mav got me into true crime shows, and I swear at the beginning of each episode, the deceased is described as lighting up a room and being everyone’s friend. I need to be smart, so I don’t end up as a footnote candidate for those shows.

“Then you went away. All I got was an email stating that you would no longer accept subscriptions from anonymous accounts. But I wasn’t just anyone… I was yours. We were special. I’ve been waiting for over a year to find you again, camping out in your favorite places. Then, I randomly saw you in a picture with the Enforcers. I bought a ticket to the gala, hoping to see you.”

“You found me,” I state the obvious, growing more concerned about how I’ll get away without one of us getting hurt.

“But those brutes tore you away from me. I don’t blame you. You must’ve been so scared they’d hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen, so I followed you.” He admits this as if it’s normal behavior. “It took me a while to figure out a plan, and after I saw you at St. Mary’s, it became obvious. I overheard you talking to Maria about her sister and nephew. The stroke of luck I’d been waiting for.”

“Did you follow me there?” My steady voice soothes the sting of my words. I should’ve figured out he couldn’t be her nephew. Not unless Maria’s sister gave birth in her late sixties.

“No! No, I live with my nan, and she had one of her episodes, so I was already there. Again, fate brought us together. But those guys on the team act like they own you, and I had to act fast to keep you safe.”

I nod to fake my agreement. “So you came to get me? I’m confused why you want me to go to the bank with you.” His thought process is as incoherent as going through a blender.

“To live with you of course!” He raises a hand, and my body responds, reeling back to dodge him. “We’re going to be so happy. I’ve researched remodeling the three floors to restore it to one big house,” he announces with glee.

“But two other people live there.” My heart stops, wondering how he plans to get rid of them.

“Maria needs to be in a home, same as my nan. They can go together and be friends. And then the other guy can move into my nan’s if he needs a place to stay or his place here. Easy!” he says with the joy of a child who doesn’t understand how the world works.

“And at the lawyer’s office we’ll…” I prod, searching for logic in his plan.

“You’ll transfer the third level of the brownstone from Maria to me so we’ll be co-owners,” Paul says in a condescending tone, indicating I’m slow.

“How will you pay for it?” I wince. This could be the breaking point of his delusion.