Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Who am I?
Where do I live?
Where am I from?
Is anyone searching for me?
When my anger causes my body to heat, I stand and strip off my robe. Ah, a detail Loch overlooked. Pajamas.
I climb under the covers, thinking he’s probably the type who sleeps naked. It’s not a bad image since he sure has the body for it. But then his mood kind of ruins it. That won’t stop me from texting him, though. I grab the phone to type: Thank you. You did more than necessary, but I truly appreciate the gifts. Hope you were able to finish some business.
I hope he can find the humor in the last part like I did. I stare at the screen, but when nothing happens, I set it down next to me, closing my eyes again. Maybe he’s thinking of something clever to say . . . The phone buzzes on the bed, and I roll to my side to read the message: You’re welcome.
Huh. Or maybe not.
Polite but abrupt. Maybe I should have expected as much. He’s an attorney, of all things, and based on how we parted ways, I’m not surprised that he doesn’t placate me and fall into the opening I left for him with my text.
I can’t fault him entirely. He tried to turn it around at the end, but it was too late. I’d already raised my defenses.
My body aches in places that don’t make sense. My head pounds, and my mouth feels like I ate cotton. I wedge open my eyes like I’m coming out of a long winter’s hibernation but slam them shut when I see the light from outside flooding the room. I roll onto my back and try again.
This time, more slowly, I open my eyes and raise my head. I reach for the glass of water, lifting just enough to take a few sips to wet my throat and clear it. I fight through my heavy head and foggy mind, and force myself to get up. With my legs draped over the side of the mattress, I glance at the phone on the bed and tap the screen. My heart sinks when I see the time—four hours later—and no notifications.
No calls.
No messages.
Nothing.
Twenty-four hours have officially come and gone. A yawn catches me off guard before I force myself up, grabbing the robe and wrapping up again. I use the bathroom and splash my face with cool water to help wake up. It’s a slow process, something Belinda told me not to rush. By how fast my heart beats, she’s probably right. I shouldn’t push myself.
Once I feel steady on my feet and in my thoughts, I walk to the window, pushing the sheers aside, and stare out. I feel lost and so alone.
Knocking on the door pulls me away from my troubled emotions. When I open the door, the earlier valet hands me a Bergdorf Goodman bag. “Delivery, Ms. Westcott.”
“Thank you.” Maybe these contain pajamas. That would be a wonderful surprise.
I let the door close automatically and set the bag on the bed. Taking hold of two spaghetti straps, I slowly pull the ruched black material out until I hold it in front of me. It’s stunning, but it’s not pajamas.
Peeking back in the bag, I find a shoebox. I think these heels go with this beautiful dress. I’m just confused as to why he had this sent over. Where on earth am I going to wear this?
The phone buzzes on the bed, drawing my attention back to it. When I pick it up, only two words are on the screen: Dinner tonight?
7
Loch
I’d sent the car for Tuesday and chose to walk. The restaurant isn’t far from the office, maybe nine or ten blocks. It’s not a restaurant I visit often, but they know the Wescott name, so it wasn’t too hard to secure a reservation. Doesn’t matter. I had plenty on my mind to keep me company.
Between the Reinhold case and being sidetracked by Tuesday, it’s not been a great week. The judge rescheduled their court date for Monday. As for Tuesday, she seems set for the time being. I’m hoping to hear how things went today. Though, I was surprised she accepted my invitation.
I thought she would be at the police station to deal with details or even headed home. I didn’t expect to receive her text: When and where?
The simple response was the lighter moment I needed in my day, but I quickly wiped away the silly grin when Leisa came into my office to drop off a file. I cleared my throat and got back to business.
I’ve been looking forward to tonight ever since.
The transition between the happy hour crowd and the dinner guests keeps the noise level elevated inside the restaurant, so I choose to wait at the far side of the bar for Tuesday. Hoping we get some reprieve from the chatter of the main dining area.