Amy tried to inch away from her neighbor, but the old woman dug her nails in hard enough that Amy wondered if they were going to leave marks. “You look well, Mrs. George.”
Mrs. George’s grip on Amy’s arm tightened, and her catlike green eyes lit up with triumph and humor. “Thank you, dear. You know, I have the number of an excellent plastic surgeon. I can ask him to squeeze you in. You look like you could use it.”
Amy tilted her head in Mrs. George’s direction and counted backward from five before responding. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. George, but it’s not necessary.”
Mrs. George tossed her hair over her shoulders and waved her comment away. “Of course, it is, especially with Eric’s new promotion.”
Amy’s stomach clenched. “Promotion?”
“Oh, look at you. Acting like you don’t know. The whole building is talking about it, and you know, because of his connection to the mayor, he’s a shoo-in. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran for office.”
Amy’s thoughts tripped over each other, all in their haste to get out.
A promotion meant he’d be spending less time at home, but it also meant he’d be more stressed out. She couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and as her neighbor rambled on about anything and everything she could think of, Amy was only half-listening. On the twelfth floor, when the doors finally pinged open, Amy hurried out and pretended to get a phone call. She offered her neighbor an awkward half-wave as she raced down the carpeted hallway. The door to the penthouse clicked open; Amy stepped in and immediately froze.
The smell of brandy filled the air, and quiet jazz music played in the background.
Eric was home early.
Slowly, carefully, Amy let the door click shut behind her and kicked off her shoes. She carried them over to the shoe rack, treading lightly the entire time. When she spun around, shopping bags still in hand, Eric was leaning on the kitchen counter, watching her intently. Her hand flew to her chest, and her heart missed a beat as she bent down to pick up a few of the items that had rolled onto the floor. After shoving the ham, packs of cheese, and tomatoes back into the bag, she rose back up to her feet with as much dignity and grace as she could muster.
He was still watching her, the same unnerving glint in his eyes.
Her eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of his anger, but she found none.
Still, she knew it didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
Eric was always finding an excuse to be mad at her or a reason to ridicule her, and as much as she hated to admit it, she had gotten used to it.
Forcing a half-smile to her lips, Amy set the bags down on the counter. Then she hung her tailored brown coat up behind the door, leaving her in a pair of wide-leg pants and a beige oversized tunic.
She was rummaging through the bags, taking out the groceries, when Eric finally spoke, “Out spending money again?”
“I was picking up a few things for lunch,” Amy replied, keeping her tone as light as possible. “And I picked up a few things for Judy, June, and Beth.”
Eric snorted. “It’s easy to spend someone else’s money, isn’t it?”
A wave of unease washed over her.
Amy waited for a few moments before answering, doing her best to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Sylvie was telling me they’re doing this part-time program for seniors. Anyone over fifty is welcome to apply.”
Eric lifted the glass up to his lips and eyed her over the rim. “You’re not qualified. Why would they want to hire you? You haven’t even had a job since you worked that entry-level job at the magazine.”
Amy’s stomach tightened into knots. “Yeah, but the good news is they don’t need people with experience. It’s sort of like an outreach program, and it’s only a couple of times a week.”
Eric set his glass down with a little more force than necessary, causing some of the liquid to slosh over. “And who would be here to take care of the house?”
Amy finished setting out the rest of the stuff and suddenly wished she had something else to do, anything to keep her hands busy and to keep her from having to look at Eric directly.
“Let me guess. Marie will be here,” Eric interrupted in a vicious voice. “Maybe I’ll send Marie away. She’s an unnecessary expense when I have a wife who is perfectly capable of handling everything on her own.”
Amy’s mouth turned dry. “I—of course. I didn’t mean to—”
Eric held a hand up and leveled her with an angry look. “No, younevermean to, do you? You don’t think, and you don’t consider. It’s like being married to a child.”
A hard knot formed in the center of her stomach as Eric finished his drink and put his glass down ever so carefully. “I’m sorry. I’m making your favorite food today.”
Eric made a low noise in the back of his throat, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused now. “Don’t bother. I’m going out to dinner.”
