Chapter 30
Becka
On the phone, Anna was saying, "So, you think he had sex with them?"
"Maybe not both of them," I said. "But probablyoneof them at least."
"Oh come on. You don't know that."
"Not for sure," I admitted. "But it's the only thing that makes sense. I mean, why else would've he acted so strange?"
"Aside from you lying in wait?"
I frowned.What, like a spider?
I didn't get it. Just yesterday, she'd warned me away from this job – and from Jack Ward in particular. Now she was singing a totally different tune.
Given my current mood, the tune felt wrong and off-key. "I wasn't 'lying in wait,'" I told her. "I was reading in the lobby. Big difference."
"Look, I get it," she said. "But did you ever think of just letting him walk on by?"
"Oh, please. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Youdidhear the part where he spotted me, right?"
"Yeah. And Ialsoheard the part where you followed him into the elevator and got all nosy with him."
Nosy? Seriously?I made a sound of annoyance. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"
Her voice softened. "Yours. You know that."
It was eight o'clock in the morning, just four hours after that scene in the elevator. I was tired and cranky – and with good reason.
Sleep had proved nearly impossible – just like my boss, and now my sister, too.
This wasnotgoing to be a good day.
And now Anna was saying, "He's a really private person. You knew that going in."
"So?"
"So you made your own bed by accepting the offer. And now that you'vemadethe bed, you might as well sleep in it. Or just quit. But you can't exactly stay and expecthimto change."
Bed? Sleep? What a joke.I hadn't slept. Instead, I'd spent most of the night tossing and turning with agitation.
And the single time Ihaddrifted off, I'd seen him in my dreams. He'd been holding my book in one hand while he pleasured Darbie with the other.
Stupidly, obscenely, Darbie was wearing that hideous multi-colored shirt, the one he'd given me as a replacement for my ripped blouse. Even worse, the Darbie in my dream wore nothing else – well, except for big red floppy shoes.
Talk about messed up.
At this rate, I might never sleep again.
When I said nothing in reply, my sister said, "And you still don't know for sure what he was doing."
"Last night? Oh come on. You can't be serious."
"But I am," she said. "Maybe he couldn't sleep. Maybe he went out for a walk. Maybe he just got up really early."
I recalled his tousled hair and satisfied smile.
