Tate checked his appointment book, saw he had time still, and ran down to the coffee shop for his usual, black with no additives. As he waited in line he glanced around and felt a sort of freedom. Now that the divorce was final he could check out the men who were there. Not that he did it in any obvious manner but just the idea that he could look without feeling guilty was liberating. Of course there wasn’t even one who remotely appealed to him but it was the idea that counted.
He chuckled when he realized that the barista had been trying to get his attention, gave her his order, paid her and headed back upstairs.
As he stepped off the elevator he saw a man pacing the hall in front of his office door. He looked vaguely familiar although Tate couldn’t figure out why. The man turned and stopped with a hopeful if nervous look on his face.
“Mr. Kendall?”
“I am. If you’re Mr. Bassani then come on in,” Tate replied as he got to the door and unlocked it.
“Thank you.”
Tate led him through the tiny waiting room into his office. “Please have a seat, Mr. Bassani,” he said as he sat down behind the desk.
“Please, call me Mario.”
“Mario it is, and I’m Tate. Now exactly how do you think I can help you?”
After he took a deep breath Mario replied, “I think, maybe, that I’m being stalked.”
“Maybe? You’re not certain?”
“Well… All right yes I’m fairly certain, I think. God, this is hard.”
“Start at the beginning.”
“Okay. I had a lover, a boy friend…”
Mario hesitated as if waiting for a negative reaction from Tate. Instead Tate smiled, then snapped his fingers. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere. You work at a restaurant I stopped into one day. The boyfriend’s a big, burly blonde, right?”
Mario looked surprised but continued on. “Right. Jonah. Anyway we broke up, or more I did the breaking up after he beat me up a couple of times and almost hit my son the second time and, well…”
“Damn,” Tate spat out. “I take it he’s not willing to accept it.”
“No he’s not. He shows up at the restaurant, then one evening when I took my son to the park he showed up there too.” Mario frowned deeply. “The problem is it wasn’t planned, I mean our going there and it wasn’t the one we usually go to.”
“So this Jonah had to have followed you. Did he cause a problem there?”
“No. Just said he wanted to ‘talk’. That’s his usual excuse. I got out of there fast, mainly because Wil, that’s my son, was scared.”
“Had he seen you getting hit by Jonah?” When Mario nodded Tate remarked that it was not wonder the boy was afraid. “So what came next,” he asked, having a feeling there was still more to the story.
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