I flip over to my other side, deciding that thinking about Dean is pointless since we’reobviouslyover. Hopefully, I can avoid him for the foreseeable future. My dad is going to be mad about the business deals.If he wants them that badly, he can divorce Mom and marry Dean himself.
My last thought before I drift off into what is sure to be a fitful sleep is the same one I had when I lay down…I miss Ledger.
By noon, when I finally wake up, I feel disgusting, drenched in sweat from tossing and turning all night. An everything shower is how I decide to try to reset myself, and an hour and ahalf later, I at least smell better, even if I’m still feeling like I’ve been put through an emotional meat grinder.
Before I walk out of my room to find Allie, I decide to see how much damage is on my phone from last night. I haven’t checked my messages since I was texting Ledger at the club, and while I’m hopeful everyone involved is giving me space, it seems unlikely. Sure enough, there’s at least one new message from Ledger, but I save it for last, knowing that it’s by far the most important.
Dean, luckily, isn’t one of my missed messages. One is from my mom, asking what today’s sermon was in church and telling me to send her my favorite verses the pastor used. That message is like clockwork every Sunday, so I’m not even surprised. It’ll be worse if I don’t respond, so I find the church’s social media post from today. Thank God their team adds a cutesy post every week with the reference verses, so I can send it to Mom. The second unread text is from my dad, saying nothing, but containing a link to a men’s conference where he’s been invited to speak. The third is Allie’s thread, asking if I’m okay and where I'm at. Her last message from last night said she had a ride and knew I was safe with Ledger, and that she’d see me at home. Finally, I’m unable to avoid Ledger’s text thread anymore, so I take a deep breath before I open it.
Devil:
Angel, I hope you’re sleeping well. I handled last night poorly, and I hope I’ll have a chance soon to earn your forgiveness in person. Please know that I meant every word I said, and that last night was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best night of my life.
I stare at the message for so long that my phone falls asleep, and I can already feel that my reaction to last night’s revelations is…not normal.
Ishouldbe mad that the man who’s been stalking me,and spoiling me,manipulated me into finding out that my long-term boyfriend is a general piece of crap who was also cheating on me. Ishouldbe at least a little hesitant at the fact that he owns and frequents a sex club because clearly there’s a Grand Canyon–sized gap in our sexual experience, let alone life experience from our age difference. Ishouldfeel sad that my long-term boyfriend was cheating on me, because even with everything I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours, Dean and I did have fond memories that will always be a part of my adolescence. And I really, really,really shouldbe mad at the gorgeous bouquet sitting on my desk that was definitely not there when I fell asleep last night.
I should be mad, but I’m really not.
Allie and I successfully waste an entire day dissecting our experiences at Rendezvous, eating way too much junk food, and alternating between talking about how hot men are and how much we hate them.Shehad an even more eventful evening than I did, from the sound of it. I’m putting away my grocery order for the week thatsomeonehad delivered this morning, when I get a text from Blanche, of all people.
Unknown:
Hi Sloane, it’s Blanche! I hope you don’t mind me texting you out of the blue on a weekend. I’ve gotten myself into a situation with the script for the play, and I was really hoping you might be available for brunch so I could get your opinion on it. Are you free? Would 12:30 at the Calico work?
Well. Brunch with Blanche was not on my bingo card for today, but she’s been nothing but nice to me at play practices, and it would be helpful to get some insider info on Ledger and his family. Even if I am pretending to be mad at him.In for a penny, in for a pound.
Me:
Hi Blanche! I’m free at 12:30. See you then!
I have time to make myself presentable in a tennis dress and cardigan, with just enough light makeup to ensure that I’m put together enough to be in public. Heading out to my old car, I sigh and hope it’s going to start this time. My parents had initially planned to buy me aslightlynicer car when I started driving in high school, but apparently, my choices of friends in school weren’t up to their standards. When I chose not to end friendships at my parents’ whim, this is how they retaliated. It’s honestly not a bad car, with leather interior, heated seats, and comfort befitting, well, a grandma…as long as it’ll start up.
After two tries, I’m successful, and I make the short drive through town to get to the café Blanche has chosen for brunch. The Calico, a staple in this town, is as cute as a button. The food reminds me of my own grandmother, and the decor would fit in her kitchen as well. I’m lucky again with my parking spot, and I head in to see that the predictable post-church surge of patrons has the café bursting at the seams with a line out the door. Wondering how Blanche and I are going to manage getting anything done with this much noise, I see her pop her head out of a door I’ve never noticed in the back of the building.
Deep breaths, Sloane…It’s perfectly normal for your stalker’s mom to lure you into a hidden room.
Chapter thirteen
“Sloane, darling! I’m so glad you could come on such short notice. Follow me!”
Blanche leads me through the unassuming door into what looks like a smaller, more intimate dining room that I had no clue existed. It’s like a slightly more sophisticated version of a classic kitchen.
“Wow. I had no idea this extra seating space was back here!”
She smiles as we take our seats at a two-person table near a window. “Well, it’s not exactly advertised. This room is primarily used by families who have lived in town for years and friends of the café's ownership group,” she says.
After some standard small talk about how my classes have been going, I sense Blanche getting ready to talk business as the server takes our orders.
“Sloane, I have to be honest that I lured you here under false pretenses.”
“Oh. Okay,” I reply. “Is everything okay? If it’s not the play…is Ledger okay?” Immediately, my mind goes to the worst possible scenarios.
Oh my God, he’s been in a motorcycle crash. His club got raided by the FBI. He’s an assassin, and he’s been taken out on a job. He doesn’t want to see me anymore, and I don’t matter enough for him to tell me in person, so he sent his mom. Wait, has he told his mom about us? Is there even an us? For all I know, he takes all his women back to private shows at Rendezvous…
“Sloane? Sloane, dear, are you okay?”
I look up to see Blanche’s concerned face, and her hand poised on her water glass as if she was seconds away from breaking me out of my trance by pouring it over my head.
