Chapter Twenty-Six
It turned out that when no one was around, Davis was a slob.
Wet towels were piled on the bedroom floor. His bed was unmade, with the sheets kicked and twisted around as if he’d performed gymnastics in his sleep. Even his thousand-dollar suit was crumpled on the floor.
This was evidence that he’d really seen her more as a live-in assistant with bedroom privileges than a true partner.
As Emma looked around, she wondered if she’d really known Davis at all. How many times had he bitched at her for leaving little piles in her wake? Meanwhile, he’d left an empty sushi container on the nightstand that had started to stink.
He must’ve had the cleaners coming a lot more frequently than he’d said. No wonder he had a lengthy list of charges for her. She was surprised he hadn’t had them sweep in before she arrived. Given the upcoming holiday, he’d probably refused to pay their higher rates.
Leaving yet another mess for her. She debated deducting a cleaning fee from the monies owed. How had he made such a mess in a little over a week?
Knowing that he had cameras in the main areas of the condo, she sent him a text.
You left this place a pigsty. I’ll clean up before I leave, but that cleaning fee will be paid out of the money I owe.
Almost immediately, three little dots appeared. She nervously gnawed on her lip. If Davis told her she had to leave, she’d have to use even more of her savings to find a hotel. Thankfully, although her ex-fiancé was a bastard, there was still a shriveled heart buried deep inside his chest.
Okay, that’s fine. I’ve pretty much packed up most of what I’m taking, anyhow. I’ll be selling most of the furniture. I’ll be back on New Year’s Eve—you can leave the check on my desk. You can deduct $500 for cleaning the place up before you leave. Sorry, I left in a hurry.
They both knew he was lying on both counts—this mess had taken days to accumulate, and that he had any regrets forcing her to pay him back.
But he wasn’t worth the energy to argue with. She replied to his message with a thumbs-up and began cleaning.
She turned off all the big lights in the apartment and flicked on lamps in every room. Then, she turned the TV on to one of those Christmas atmosphere videos, with jolly music and a cheerful holiday scene in the background.
That only made her remember leaving Sky House, and Caleb. So, she switched to a true crime video instead.
The first thing she did was strip the bed and start a load of laundry. She couldn’t sleep on the same sheets he had—that seemed too weird now.
By the end of the year, which was literally next week, she’d have no place to live and her income would be a third of what it once was. That wouldn’t even cover rent, let alone other expenses of living in one of the most expensive cities in the country.
She couldn’t help but compare this feeling of dread to the dread that would accompany an unfamiliar car in her foster family’s driveway.
It was almost always her social worker whisking her off to another placement.
She’d always wonder what she’d done wrong.
But the answer was usually nothing. The foster parents had grown tired of caring for children, especially when they realized the money they got from the state didn’t match up with the hassle of trying to raise kids who had been through more in their short lives than most people went through in decades.
As she snapped the fitted sheets on the bed, she exhaled.
She’d managed before, and she’d do it again.
At the end of the day, she had to remember that she was on her own.
She couldn’t rely on anyone but herself.
She’d made the mistake in trusting Davis.
She should be grateful that she was saved from making the same mistake with Caleb.
Once she’d cleaned up the bedroom and taken two bags of stinky trash to the chute, she collapsed into bed.
* * * *
“Caleb, wake up.”
Was he experiencing déjà vu, with his sister waking him up again out of a dreamless, depressed nap?
“I don’t want to, and you can’t make me,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“You have a phone call. It came through on the front desk phone.”
“Is it about Olivia and the girls?”
He rolled over and opened his eyes, wincing against the sunlight streaming through the faded curtains.
“Don’t you think I asked that? It’s not. But it’s still important.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after eleven.” She shoved the cordless phone at him and closed the door.
He cleared his throat to dislodge his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He’d clearly been asleep far too long.
“Hello?”
“Is this Caleb Ellis?”
“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?”
“Caleb.” The woman exhaled a large breath. “My name is Aniyah Goode. I’m Emma’s foster sister.”
An odd sensation settled in his stomach. “She’s mentioned you before. What can I do for you?”
“I’m assuming by now you read her note and realized she skipped town as if she’d just passed a bunch of bad checks.”
He had to laugh at the analogy. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“Look, I know she’ll probably kill me for contacting you. She’ll say I overstepped her boundaries or something. But I’ve known Emma since we were teenagers. Going on a decade and a half now. I’d like to think I know her better than anybody. And I know she’s running scared.”
As much as he appreciated Aniyah wanting to have her best friend’s back, he was still a little salty that he’d been left with nothing more than a Dear John letter.
“Back into the arms of her asshole ex? I’ve heard he was poking around here yesterday.”
“Yes, he was. First to win her back. When that didn’t work, he provided her with a bill for everything he’s covered while they were together.
His salary was triple hers. He’d insisted they’d live together in his fancy Capitol Hill condo.
She contributed both financially and emotionally.
But now Davis is saying he’ll sue her for damages if she doesn’t pay up. ”
Rage simmered deep in his stomach. “That sounds absurd. Does he even have a case?”
“He can take her to small claims court. Will he win? Probably not. He could draw it out, and make her miserable in the process. But he’s offering her a discounted rate if she pays off the amount before the new year.”
He dropped his elbows to his knees. “And how much is that?”
“Five thousand dollars. Emma has always been anxious about money. So that’s why she rushed back. Not to be with Davis.”
“We could’ve helped her if she’d let us.”
Aniyah sighed. “Emma also has a terrible time asking for help. I’d blame her upbringing, but I think it goes deeper than that. She’s also a Taurus.”
He laughed, despite himself. “So am I.”
“Oh, lord help us all. Well, Emma’s feeling ashamed, and I think that’s why she ran. Like she doesn’t deserve any happiness.”
“That’s bullshit. She deserves happiness. She could be happy here if she’d let herself.”
“So, you’re not mad that she ran?”
He sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair. “Of course not. I was sad, sure. But I wasn’t even mad when I thought she ditched me for her ex. I figured things had come to an end. But now…I want to help her. Whether she’ll accept my help or not, I don’t know. But I want to try.”
Aniyah let out a chuckle. “I was hoping you’d say that. Look, I have an idea. It’s a little crazy, being that it’s Christmas Eve and all, but I think it just might work.”
Fuck it. If Emma truly wanted to go her own way, he’d let her. But he had to try. He’d lain in bed half the night trying to figure out some sort of plan to get through to her. Aniyah tracking him down to help had to be some sign.
Caleb shot to his feet. “Okay, hit me with it.”
“Do you have a pen? You’re going to need to write some of these instructions down.”
After fumbling around his room for a pen and locating a Sky House notepad, he returned to his place on the bed. “I’m ready.”