Of Weasels and Waffles
Delaney
As soon as I saw the couple from hell coming toward me on the sidewalk, I wanted to turn around and walk the other way.
Instead, I kept going as the fashionable blonde gave a sparkling little wave and called out my name.
Terrific.
Three whole weeks of hiding, and this was my reward?
By now, it felt like ages since I'd marched up to that penthouse and confronted the guy whose name I still didn't know.
Maddox?
Cal?
Bob?
Hey, he'd said it, not me.
Walt had even tried to find out who'd been staying in that penthouse. But according to the rental company, the answer was nobody at all.
Yeah, right. Just like "nobody" was staying in Tessa's apartment.
I'd spent these past few weeks not running like I'd wanted, but hunkering down instead – writing, sulking, and trying to be productive.
I'd even opened a brand-new bank account online.
Sure, my new account still had no money, but it would as soon as those new royalty payments started rolling in.
They wouldn't be rolling into that old account, that's for sure, because there was no way in hell Mom was getting another crack at my money.
This whole time, I'd barely left Tessa's apartment. And even then, it was only to sneak up one floor to visit Walt – or to exchange a few words with Janet, the forty-something woman who'd recently moved in across the hall.
She was nice, but so aggressively friendly, I wasn't quite sure how to take it. Meanwhile, Walt had officially retired and was planning to move out within the week – not to a new apartment, but to wherever the fish were biting.
I would definitely miss him.
So maybe I should've been happy to see a couple of familiar faces on the street.
But I wasn't, because some blasts from the past are just a little explosive, and Devon and Sierra had a long history of leaving emotional craters.
I watched with growing dread as the gap between us shrank.
I'd known both of them in college. Today, Sierra was wearing a ruby-red dress and matching stilettos while carrying an iced latte. Beside her, Devon wore a white polo with khaki chinos and carried so many shopping bags, it was a wonder he didn't stagger.
He still had that new country-club look he'd been sporting the last time I'd seen him, which always made me pause, because back in college, he'd been mostly a hot mess.
But Sierra? She hadn't changed one bit. She looked as polished and expensive as ever, right down to the designer handbag dangling from her arm. Meanwhile, her fiancé was the pack mule.
Yes. Fiancé.
I'd learned about their engagement the last time I'd seen them. But if I knew Sierra, she'd be announcing it again within a minute flat.
Sure enough, when we reached each other, we'd barely stopped walking before she gave a little squeal. "Delaney! Oh my gosh! Have you seen my ring?"
Yes, I had.
Once had been plenty.
Forget looking. I wanted to rip it off her finger and shove it up Devon's ass, because of what he'd done to Maisie.
He hadn't only broken Maisie's heart. He'd crushed her like a bug. Until five minutes before college graduation, Maisie had been expecting to find a ring on her own finger, because Devon had all but promised.
Instead, she'd been cheated on and dumped like yesterday's garbage.
And who did Devon cheat with?
Yup, you guessed it – the same chick who was already waggling her finger in my direction while gushing, "Isn't it gorgeous?"
It was, actually.
And somehow, that just made everything worse.
Still, I said what needed saying. "Yes. It's lovely."
She gave another squeal. "I know, right?"
By now, it had been nearly two months since I'd last seen them. Oddly enough, we were standing in almost the exact same spot – a couple of blocks away from the building where Tessa used to work.
Yes.
Used to work.
The first time I'd stopped by Thatcher-Hale, the agency's receptionist had been vague about Tessa's whereabouts.
But there'd been no vagueness today.
Instead, a different receptionist had told me flat-out that Tessa didn't work there anymore. She'd been all snide about it, too, like Tessa had been caught stealing.
Over the past couple of weeks, I'd called Tessa's cell at least a hundred times, leaving messages that continued to go unanswered. Meanwhile, Tessa's social media page hadn't posted a single update, even as my mom gushed on her page about how terrific Tessa was doing in Miami.
The whole thing was beyond confusing.
And now, here I was, forced to stand here while the world's biggest twatwaffle lifted her hand toward the sunlight to give her ring some extra sparkle.
The worst thing was, this little performance wasn't even for me. If I knew Sierra, she was hoping I'd scamper off to Mackinac Island and tell Maisie all about it – as if the knife needed any more twisting.
If I had my way, Maisie wouldn't be hearing a single word. Not about Devon. Not about Sierra. And especially not about the ring.
But Sierra wasn't exactly subtle. As if to prove it, she asked with feigned concern, "So, are you and Maisie still on the outs?"
The question stung, but I had nobody to blame but myself. The last time I'd run into them, I'd made this big deal about me and Maisie not being friends anymore.
It hadn't been about Sierra. It hadn't even been about Devon. Or the ring.
The truth was, I'd figured Maisie would be safer if everyone from our old circle thought she and I were no longer in contact.
But now, just the mention of Maisie's name was the final straw. I told Sierra, "I don't want to talk about it."
Apparently, I wasn't the only one feeling less than chatty. Devon hadn't said a single word, not even hello.
That was fine by me.
I had never liked him, even before he'd stomped on Maisie's heart.
And now Sierra was trying – and failing – to look sympathetic. "Oh, I'm sorry." Her voice dripped with mock concern. "Is that a sore subject?"
Stiffly, I replied, "Not at all."
"Are you sure?" She leaned close to study my face. "Because you look like you're gonna cry."
Damn it. I felt like it, too. Still, I forced a smile. "Well, someone's gonna cry if you get any closer."
As she flinched back, Devon made a choked little sound – not quite a laugh but dangerously close.
Sierra whirled to face him. "Excuse me?"
He blinked back at her. "Uh…what?"
Her mouth tightened. "Would you like to repeat that?"
"Me?" He looked a little panicked. "No. I mean, I didn't even say anything."
God, what a weasel.
On the plus side, the fact he looked scared half to death made my day just a little brighter.
Did that make me a bad person?
Not the way I saw it.
When Sierra returned her attention to me, I was feeling slightly better until she said with a laugh, "You'll never guess where we just came from."
I just looked at her.
Undaunted, she smirked like she knew something I didn't. And then, she said it. "Mackinac Island."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah." She glanced at Devon. "And let's just say, it was quite a trip."