Chapter 7
SNICKERS
"Hey, how are you enjoying that scrumptious-looking croissant?" I say, stepping through the door of the bedroom once I finish my call.
But Pip's not in bed.
"Pip," I say, walking down the hall and checking the bathroom.
But she's not there either. She's not in my apartment at all.
Could she have been jealous that I took a call from a friend and stormed out?
Doubtful—she didn't strike me as the prima donna type.
I could track her down easily enough through the city's vibrant vintage community.
But should I?
What if she left because she didn't want to be found.
Maybe she's in a relationship with another man, and I was her one night fling with a famous DJ.
It's happened before. More than once.
Still, there was something about Pip that made me think what we had was real.
Not just the sex, though that was wonderful. It was the girl herself. It felt like I had known and adored her all my life.
As I straighten the living room, my eyes fall on Kellie's portrait. I pick up the silver frame and look into her eyes.
Just when I dare to think I have found love again, it fizzles before my eyes.