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I’ve never slept well, a fact I inexplicably shared with Piper Fox three months and eleven days ago, in the dark of night, under the watchful glow of an ancient lamp in the Fox living room. I have been trying to erase that night from my mind, mostly by avoiding the woman sitting next to me.
I incline my head. “Touché.”
She shifts on the seat. “Have you heard anything from—” She clears her throat. “Have they shipped any of my pieces yet?”
“I received confirmation that the scheduled pickup is Monday. They should arrive at the gallery by next week—Thursday, most likely.”
Her shoulders relax a notch. “You don’t think he’ll try anything else—delay further?”
“He can try all he likes. No one breaks a contract with me without severe consequences.” The words emerge like the slice of a knife, fast and clipped.
She blinks, flinching.
For the best, I tell myself even as an uncomfortable thorn twists in my stomach.
She doesn’t need to say his name for me to know who she’s asking about. Ben—the aforementioned ex-boyfriend who is also her ex-manager. The man is the epitome of a weak-minded, idiotic tool.
“Has he been bothering you?”
“No.” She opens her mouth, pauses for a second, then shuts it.
“But?”
One slim shoulder lifts. “At first, he called me every day, multiple times a day. I blocked him. Then he would use random phones. I changed my number, and he spammed all my social media and emails. Then it stopped all of a sudden. Until last week.”
My jaw tightens. “What happened last week?”
“He sent a package.”
“To Mindy’s?” Last I knew, Piper intended to stay with her sister in the city.
She nods. “The texts have started again, from a number I don’t recognize. They’re generic—just hi, how are you kind of things—but I know it’s him.” Her shoulders droop. “I don’t know how he found me or my number. I changed it.”
A whisper of unease slithers through me. “What did he send you?”
Pink tints her cheeks. “Jewelry and clothing, a note about how he still loves me and he’s changed and wants to make it up to me. I sent it back. He’ll give up eventually if I keep ignoring him. It’s probably nothing to worry about. I tend to overreact lately, and Ben knows how to get under my skin.”
The more she speaks, the more my spine stiffens. “You are not overreacting. You should always listen to your instincts.” Concern loosens my tongue. “Mindy’s apartment—is there a doorman? Some kind of security?”
“No.”
I frown. “You could stay here.”
“No.” The refusal is immediate. “I can’t do that.”
I switch tactics. “I can hire a bodyguard. Someone could be with you at all times.”
She grimaces. “Oh, no. That’s not necessary. It’s fine. Ben’s all the way across the country. Besides, I rarely leave the apartment without Mindy. Please don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
The urge to press the issue shoves at me, but I swallow my arguments and counterpoints. “Is that why you came here?”
Her visit doesn’t quite track. She could have called or gotten this information from Carson. Why stop by unexpectedly only for this after months of silence?
She bites her lip, and I home in on her mouth. Her lips are perfect, pink, and heart shaped.
“Um. Well, partly. There is one other thing I needed to… ask.” She swallows.
I track the motion, noting the fluttering pulse in her neck, the hitch in her breath.
She inhales and then meets my gaze, her spine straightening, her chin lifting. “I want you.”
My heart, the fractured organ long silent, thumps in my chest.
