Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Carley
I wake up with a migraine.
It hurts so bad it almost makes me forget about how D woke me up last night and all the fun we had. I’m getting more and more comfortable with asking for or telling D what it is I want and need, but sometimes I still require a little nudge.
As I lay in bed, my eyes land on my phone on the nightstand, and the text message I received before going to bed last night flashes into my mind.
HE ISNT WHO YOU THINK HE IS
It makes me angry that Blaine is so hell-bent on trying to break us up. There’s nothing he can do or send that will make me give up on what I have with D.
Speaking of D, when I roll over, his side of the bed is empty. The smell of coffee brewing tells me he’s in the kitchen, but the last thing I feel like doing is getting out of bed. I can’t remember a time my head hurt this bad. But caffeine will likely help, so I pull the covers back and sit up.
As soon as my feet hit the floor, I catch D walking into the bedroom with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
“Good morning, théa. I made you coffee.”
“How did you know that’s exactly what I need right now?”
“I make it my business to know what you desire at all times.”
A smile breaks out on my face, but it shoots pain into my head, and I wince.
“What’s wrong?” D asks, placing the mug on the nightstand.
“I woke up with a migraine,” I tell him, rubbing the side of my head, “but it’s nothing a little caffeine can’t fix.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep? Take the day off and relax.”
“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine with coffee and a shower.”
“Carley.”
He stuns me with a glance, and I know I won’t be going into work today.
“Or I can lay back down.”
D winks at me as I tuck my legs back under the blankets and get comfortable.
I stay sitting up so I can still drink my coffee.
He’s looking at me the same way he did last night, and it makes my heart race.
I want to tell him I love him. I think—I know—he feels the same.
I see it in the way he looks at me sometimes.
As though he can’t believe this is true. That it must be a dream.
I know, because that’s exactly how I feel, too.
I inhale a deep breath, ready to finally spit it out and tell him how I feel, but he speaks first.
“Carley, there’s something I need to talk to you about. But it deserves more than a quick morning conversation before I rush off to work. Maybe I can cook us a special dinner tonight, and we can talk about it then.”
Goose bumps scatter down my arms at his proposal.
“That sounds wonderful. Looking forward to it.”
D leans forward and kisses my head gently.
“Enjoy your day, and I hope you feel better soon, théa.”
“I’ll miss you,” I tell him.
“You too.”
I watch D’s sexy ass walk out of the room, and I actually think the sight of it alleviates some of my headache.
I laugh to myself as I take another sip of the delicious caffeine in my hands.
As soon as his figure is out of sight, I put my coffee on the table and lay down again. In no time, I’m back to sleep.
It only felt as though a second went by when I’m awoken again. This time from a notification pinging on my phone. The last thing I need right now is to look at a bright screen, but when I peer over and see Saylor’s name, I pick it up.
I glance at the clock first.
8:50 A.M.
Even with another hour of sleep, my headache still feels the same.
I turn my screen’s brightness down as far as it can go before checking out what Saylor wants. That takes a bit of strain off my eyes and doesn’t make my brain hurt quite as much. When I open up my messages, I click on Saylor’s name and read what she sent me.
Saylor
So do you and D have a plan for the videos yet?
Me
Good morning. What do you mean?
Saylor
Morning. I mean, are you going to ignore the asshole’s threats?
Me
Of course. I don’t like the idea of them getting out there, but at the same time, they aren’t crystal clear videos. We know it’s us because they’re from our cameras, but if they’re put on the internet, you can’t really see who we are clearly. Same with you and Ren.
Saylor
Good. That delicious Greek may have taken you away from me, but I kind of like him. And I think he’s really good for you, too.
I think about the brief conversation D and I had before he left earlier, and butterflies swirl around in my stomach all over again.
Me
I think he’s going to tell me he loves me tonight.
Before she responds, my phone rings, and I see Saylor’s face covering my screen.
“Hello?”
“That’s awesome! What makes you think he’s going to say it?”
“You’re ridiculous,” I laugh. “I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at me. It’s like my own feelings are being reflected. This morning before he left for work, he mentioned he had something he needed to tell me tonight. He even said he wanted to cook me dinner, which he’s never done.”
“Morning, boyfriend,” Saylor says taking her mouth away from the receiver. I hear her make a kiss noise before speaking to Ren again. “You got in late last night. Sorry, Car. Ren just woke up.”
“That’s okay, want to talk later?”
“No, it’s fine. Now why aren’t you going to work today? Playing hooky? Can we do lunch?”
“I woke up with a migraine, so D told me to stay home and get some rest.”
“Oh, man, that sucks. So is that a no to lunch? Wait, you’re leaving already?” Saylor asks Ren again. It’s hard enough keeping up with her conversations under normal conditions, I’m not even going to try when my head hurts as much as it does. “Oh. Okay then. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sorry, so lunch, yes?”
“No, Saylor. Focus. I don’t feel good, so I am going to stay in bed all day.”
“Oh. Want me to bring lunch to you, then?”
“Um, maybe. Can I let you know?”
“Sure, but if I don’t hear from you by eleven, I’m coming over, deal?”
“Deal,” I concede. Sometimes it’s just easier that way. “I’m going to go back to bed now.”
“Okay, get some rest, and I’ll see you soon.”
“See you later.”
My head hurts even more by the time I hang up the phone. I walk to the kitchen and grab an ice pack from the freezer. Taking it back to bed with me, I put it over my eyes and fall back to sleep.
* * *
The next time I wake up, it’s due to the telephone ringing throughout the penthouse.
It’s not a regular landline telephone. It’s only there for the security staff to ring us when guests are here to visit or if we have a package waiting that can’t fit in our mailbox. Otherwise I would just ignore it.
I glance at the time on my phone when I open my eyes.
12:33 P.M.
That’s sure to be Saylor.
Slowly crawling out from under the covers, I notice my head feels a lot better than it did earlier when I went back to sleep. There is still a mild ache, but that extra sleep was exactly what I needed.
I pad out into the hallway, crossing over to the kitchen where the phone is.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ms. Garrettson, this is Carl from the desk downstairs. I have a Ms. Wright here to see you.”
“Thank you, Carl. Please send her up.”
“You also just received a package. Would you like me to have her bring it to you?”
My stomach drops. I can’t deal with another bomb like the last one Blaine sent us.
“Please,” I tell him reluctantly.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I hang up the phone and walk to the front door. Opening it, I lean against the door jamb to wait for Saylor to get here. A couple minutes later, I watch the elevator door open, and Saylor walks off with a bag of delicious smelling food in one hand and a manilla envelope in the other.
“Are you feeling better?” she asks. “I brought you your favorite soup.”
She holds up a bag from the Chinese restaurant that makes the best hot and sour soup I’ve ever tasted. It’s my ultimate comfort food.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” Saylor turns and flashes me a bright smile.
“You’re the best, ever. And yes, I was feeling better until I heard another package was delivered.”
“Yeah, and judging by the looks of it, I don’t think we’re going to like what’s inside.”
“Ugh. Don’t tell me that.”
Saylor walks through the doorway and into the penthouse as I close and lock the door behind her.
“Why don’t you put the soup in the kitchen. I’m going to shower real quick, and then I’ll eat.”
“What about this?” She holds the package up.
“I can’t even think about that right now. I’ll deal with it when I get out.”
“Okay, I’m going to find some shitty daytime talk show to watch while I’m waiting.”
I leave Saylor in the hallway as I reenter the bedroom and head straight for the shower. I’m in and out in a few minutes, and I feel even better than I did when I got out of bed.
“Okay, I’m back, and I’m starving,” I tell her as I walk into the kitchen and grab the food. There is only one container in the bag.
“Aren’t you eating?” I ask when I get into the great room.
“I already ate.”
“You haven’t started one of those ridiculous fad diets again, have you?”
“Hell no,” she promises. “Don’t you want to know what’s in here?”
She holds the envelope up so I know what she’s talking about.
“I need food in my stomach first. I have a feeling I’m going to lose my appetite once I see what’s in it.”
“You’re probably right,” she agrees as I get comfy on the sofa. “Hurry up and eat. I want to know what it is.”
I roll my eyes at her.
“So what have you been up to lately?” I ask. I feel like I haven’t gotten a good chance to talk to her in a while. Other than when we’ve spoken about all things stalker related.
“Not too much. Ren has been working a lot. He’s got some huge project going on right now. He’s not around as much as he was before. He didn’t even get home until like two this morning, and he was out the door around nine again.”
“Well, making money isn’t a bad thing.” I pry the lid off the bowl of soup and dig in.
“Yeah, but it’s more than that. I think all this shit with Blaine is causing a rift between us.”
My heart clenches for my friend.
“I’m so sorry. If it wasn’t for me then none of this would be happening.”
“Um, no. If it wasn’t for that psycho asshole, this wouldn’t be happening. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m lucky to have a friend like you who doesn’t get sick of me when my life takes a dramatic turn. It’s more than anyone should have to put up with.”
“I’m your best friend. It’s going to take a lot more than this to get rid of me.”
I smile at Saylor before my eyes move to the envelope on the table. I eat a few more spoonfuls before I can’t take it anymore.
“Okay, give me,” I put my soup down. “I need to know what he sent this time.”
“God, finally,” Saylor grabs the envelope from the table and tosses it at me.
I tear it open and look inside. There is a whole stack of things to look at. I take the paper out first.
I TOLD YOU SO
What the hell does that mean?
Saylor takes the letter from me and reads it as I pull the rest of the items from the envelope.
My heart plummets into my stomach as I realize what it is I’m looking at.
And the text message I received last night, as well as this letter, begins to make sense.
It’s a series of photographs of D and another woman at a restaurant.
These can’t be recent, right?
But my eye catches another detail in the bottom right corner of each image, and my body goes rigid. A series of numbers on each image. A date and time stamp.
Yesterday’s date. 9:02. 9:07. 9:15.
“What the fuck?” I exclaim.
“What is it?”
I ignore Saylor’s question. This was the dinner he had last night? I don’t know if I’m more angry or sad, but the feeling of complete betrayal immediately has me questioning everything D has ever said to me.
“That lying son of a bitch.”
“Carley, what’s happening?” she screams.
“D told me he had a dinner with his guy last night. You know, the one you told me about when all this shit started happening?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at these pictures. Look at the date and time in the corner. These were taken last night.”
The photos shock even Saylor silent for a moment.
“Maybe there is a perfectly good explanation.”
“I hope so because I’m so upset I’m ready to move all of my shit out of here today.”
“Okay, but before you go doing all of that, why don’t you talk to him?”
I hop up from the sofa and storm into the bedroom as Saylor calls out from behind me.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’m getting dressed and going into the office. I want answers, and I’m not waiting until he gets home from work to get them.”