Page 16 of Mated By the Alphas
I check my phone compulsively, even though it’s on vibrate and right by me on my desk. Another hour passes. Then another. Still no word from Daisy. I’m beyond worried now. Even if it was a late night and she slept in, she should be up. She should have seen my text messages. She should have called back.
Unless she can’t. The thought sends an icy chill through my veins. I shove it away, but it keeps coming back.
“I’ll call the bar. Maybe she’s working and her phone died or something,” I sigh, talking to myself again. It’s become quite a habit and brought me embarrassment on more than one occasion when someone has overheard my one-sided dialogue.
I wait until my boss is in a meeting before I dart into the break room. I look up the number for Fletcher’s Bar and make the call.
“Fletcher’s Bar. We don’t make deliveries because it’s illegal!” A gruff voice chuckles. “How can I help?”
“Hi, um, is this Mac?” I ask.
“It is!” he chuckles. “And who is this? You sound pretty.”
“Oh, uh, I’m Daisy’s friend, Ansley. I’ve been by the bar a few times and—” I say, but he quickly interrupts.
“Ansley! Yeah, I remember you. Feels like I know you even though we’ve never had a conversation, lass,” he says. “Daisy talks about you all the time!”
“Daisy, yeah, we’ve been best friends since middle school. Is she working today?” I ask.
“Today? Naw, it’s her day off,” he answers, pausing for a moment. “She alright? You sound worried.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Probably. I hope so, but she’s not answering her phone. You haven’t heard from her at all?”
“Nah, sorry, lass. I haven’t heard a peep, but I rarely do when she has the day off,” he replies. “Want me to tell her you’re looking for her if I do?”
“Yes, please,” I sigh. “Thank you.”
Another dead end. Nobody has heard from Daisy. I peek out of the break room and see that Mr. Fleming is still in a meeting. I can see him through the glass conference room door, gesturing at a PowerPoint. I’ve got a little more time, so I call a few mutual friends. It’s a longshot, but I’m grasping at straws.
I call Jessica. No answer, so I have to leave a voicemail. I call Marcus. He saw Daisy a few days ago when he stopped by the bar. Nothing since. I call Brittany. She hasn’t talked with Daisy in over a week. Just to be safe, I send Jessica a text, but don’t get an immediate reply.
“Ugh, Daisy. Where are you?” I sigh, rushing back to my desk.
I continue working on my reports, but my head is a mess. I stare at the computer screen. The spreadsheet blurs. I realize I haven’t made a single update in nearly twenty minutes. I glance at the clock. It’s almost lunchtime. I haven’t taken a lunch break since I started working here. I normally just eat at my desk. Not today.
I stand up and lean around the cubicle until I confirm my co-worker is at his desk. “Hey, Darren. I’m going to take my lunch break. Can you let Mr. Fleming know if he comes looking for me?”
“Sure thing,” Darren replies, not looking away from his computer.
“Thanks,” I say, then I grab my purse.
Food is the last thing on my mind. I type Daisy’s address into the Uber app and request a car. It’s waiting when I get outside. Traffic is heavier than usual, so it takes half my allotted time for lunch to get to Daisy’s apartment. That doesn’t leave me much time to look around. Thankfully, she gave me a key. I have one for her, too, whenever she finally visits my new place.
I hurry into her apartment building, take the elevator to her floor, and let myself into her apartment. I don’t have to look around much to know she didn’t come home last night because her cat comes running, purring frantically while weaving between my legs. Caddo only does that when he’s starving. If he isn’t hungry, he barely acknowledges you.
“You don’t know where she is either, huh, Caddo?” I sigh, putting my purse down. “Give me a minute. I’ll feed you.”
I take a quick peek around Daisy’s apartment. Her bed isn’t made, but that doesn’t tell me anything. There are a few outfits on the chair by her closet. They could be from yesterday. Could be from today. Nothing enlightening about the mess she left behind.
Caddo stays under my feet the entire time, purring and rubbing himself against me. He nearly causes me to trip, but even that doesn’t send him skittering away. He’s definitely hungry.
“Alright, chill,” I mutter, walking into the kitchen.
I open the pantry, scan it and my heart sinks. Empty. The cat food container is completely empty.
“Seriously? She’s out of cat food!?” I throw my head back in frustration.
Now I’ve got a missing best friendanda hungry cat. A hungry cat that seems to be getting more desperate the longer it takes me to magically produce his breakfast, which is already overdue.
