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Prepared to hang up, I said, “Grow the fuck up…”
“Petra! He literally knowseverythingabout you. He’s like, stalked you and shit. It’s creepy and inappropriate.”
Rolling to my back, I sighed. “Kevin telling his loser friends about how I was in bed wasn’t inappropriate?” She gasped and I did a little fist-bump to the air.
“Don’t change the subject, Petra.”
“I’m not. I’m ending the conversation.” I hung up and growled at the sun shining through the huge window in my bedroom.
Her words stuck in the back of my mind.
An hour later, Mom called. “Don’t listen to your sister.”
The fact that they were the first words out of her mouth put me on high alert.
“Alright. Spill everything you know, Mom.”
By the time she finished talking, I didn’t know if I was angry, flattered, worried, or confused.
After the call, I stared at the ceiling above my bed for several minutes. That was it for sleep. I was wide awake.
Pulling up my text history with Jack, I sent him one. “I’m back and rested. I’d love to take you to lunch. Are you free?”
He replied in under a minute. “Give me two hours to finish developing this batch. Can I pick you up?”
Um, no. “I’ll pick you up. See you in a bit.”
I walked naked to my bathroom and took a long shower. It knocked the last of the cobwebs away. I briefly considered dressing casual but changed my mind. I needed to arm myself.
I took my time with my hair and light but dramatic makeup.
In my closet, I selected nude lingerie, a deep green wrap dress, and exactly right nude wedges to go with it.
Dangling emerald earrings and a bracelet completed the look and I opened the box that held antique pieces from my mom and her family. A princess-cut emerald ring and I was done.
Pausing in front of the full-length mirror in the corner, I decided I presented a much more put-together image than I did at Ava’s wedding.
Spritzing a bit of my favorite perfume in all the right places, I picked up one of the few designer bags I owned – a gift from my mother – and walked out the door.
Jack’s place was only a few miles from mine. At the gate, the security guard greeted me with a smile.
“Petra Andreadis.”
“Yes, ma’am. I was told to expect you.”
He opened the gate and I drove through a neighborhood that was a lot more impressive in the daylight.
Parking in his driveway, I inhaled carefully, quickly checked my makeup in the mirror, and got out of my BMW.
Approaching his front door, it was thrown open before I could knock. Jack wore slacks and a dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat and leather loafers.
He took me in from head to toe. “Jesus, Petra. You look wonderful.” His eyes met mine. “Good enough to eat.”
I wasn’t about to lie. “You look great, too.”
“Come in.”
Laughing, I shook my head. It took everything in me. “Food first. I haven’t eaten yet today and I’m getting a headache.”
