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“Look, we need to speak with her,” I tell Donna. “It’s important. Can you perhaps give us her landline number, or her address?”
She shakes her head. “You guys seem like good boys, but if you want that information, you’d better ask her yourselves.”
Damn. “She forgot her cell phone at our place.”
She tsks. “That explains why she texted me from her roommate’s phone. Sorry, guys. No can do.”
She’s right. She shouldn’t hand out Candy’s info to random strangers. Only… we’re not random strangers anymore, are we?
I pull Jet aside. “We have Candy’s cell phone. We can call her roommate later on. What was her name?”
“Bry,” Jet mutters, hope lighting up his eyes.
I have her cell tucked in the pocket of my suit jacket. I turn it on. The background on her screen is a grainy photo of her with… two guys. I squint at it.
Me and Jet? I don’t remember this pic.
Anyway, I scroll through her contacts, feeling like a douche for doing that but hoping she’ll forgive me. We have to talk.
She has to explain.
“Hello?” a chirpy voice answers. “Who’s there?”
“Brylee?” I say.
“Can’t be. I’m Brylee. Who are you?”
I pull the phone from my ear, stare at it incredulously, return it to my ear. “Yeah, you are Brylee. I am Joel. I’m looking for Candy.”
“Then try a candy shop.” She hangs up.
What. The. Hell.
Jet is frowning at me. I shrug and call again.
“Look, Joel…” Brylee says. “She doesn’t want to see you right now. Especially you.”
Okay, I didn’t expect this. “Why?”
“She knows of the photo. You know the one, with you and Ellen and another woman? Naked? Doing the thing?”
My insides go cold. My lungs stutter. “What do you mean she knows of the photo? How?”
“Ha, so you’re not denying it.”
“Did you see it? Where?”
“That’s your concern? Well, let me tell you, Mr. I’m-too-much-for-one-girl Joel, your first concern should be that you lied to Candy about being with that woman, and that now she doesn’t want to even hear your name spoken and— Hey, give me back that phone!”
“Joel.” Candy’s voice filters down the line, and I lean against the nearest shelf, my knees weak with relief.
“Girl, thank God. Why did you—?”
“Is it true? You were with Ellen? Are you… Are you still with her? That first day I met you, you came to the bookstore to find her, and I…”
Ah fuck. “I can explain all this.” Jet is glaring daggers at me, and I take a step back. “I’ve never been with Ellen that way—”
“There is a photo proving you a liar, Joel Kingsley,” she whispers into the phone, and then the line goes dead.
