Page 104 of No Headlines Please

On that, I could relate.

And it wasn't until we'd gotten off the phone that I realized something. He hadn't once asked about Delaney.

And me?

Once again, I hadn't volunteered.

41

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.