Page 77 of The Woman

“Are you able to access client’s numbers from home?”

“Yeah, I have my phone linked to the office program. What do you need?”

I run a hand through my hair, leaning my back against the glass. “I need you to set up a meeting with Jonah Michaels for this afternoon. As soon as possible.”

“Okay? Does he have something to do with it?”

“I think so. If his number isn’t in the database, get it from Mark Anderson.”

“Alright. I’ll text you the details soon.”

After ending the call, I tuck my phone into my pocket and glance around my quiet apartment. It’s a mess right now compared to how Avery has kept it. Things are strewn about, partly from when I was looking for her and partly from when I lost control, letting my panic and distress take over.

I take a step, intending to pick up the pillows at least, and place them the way she likes, but I pause when I feel something under my foot. Looking down, I notice the half-finished sketch I’m stepping on and quickly pick it up from under me.

That ache in my chest intensifies as I stare at it and slowly move toward the couch, dropping down onto it with a wired and unsettled feeling zipping through my body.

Will she ever be able to draw like this again?

Will I ever see her again?

Not long ago, I couldn’t stand the thought of having a woman. Now I’m completely besotted with Avery and feel absolutely psychotic at the thought of not having her here with me.

My phone chimes with a text from Thomas, and I whip it out of my pocket immediately.

Thomas: I called his office. He apparently left for the weekend already and turned his phone off.

Fuck!

I reach for the glass on the table in front of me and hurl it across the room, listening to it shatter against the wall. Next, I flip the table over, making the items on top of it as well as the storage shelf below go scattering.

I suck in angry breaths through my nose, watching as a piece of paper lands by my foot. I snatch it up, ready to crumple it in my fist and have it join the glass, but then I see what it is and freeze.

Avery hasn’t just been drawing the city. She’s also sketched pictures of flowers and other objects, as well as portraits of me and herself. This one is of her forearm and hand, with the tattoo I had designed for us replicated perfectly on it.

I trace my finger over it, remembering how I felt watching the ink mark her, watching it tie her to me.

My woman.

I push to my feet and walk over to the piano, taking a seat on the bench and placing my phone and her drawing next to the sheet music. I haven’t been able to get this piece perfect yet, but it hasn’t stopped me from trying to play it, and right now, I need it to soothe the chaos in my mind and also help me think of what to do next.

Lifting my hands, I play the first several notes, the ones tattooed on both of our arms, but then my phone chimes again, and I lean forward to read the screen while it’s lit up.

Thomas: His assistant just told me that Jonah will be going for drinks with a few potential business associates tonight. I’m not sure if you want to try and catch him then.

I pick my phone up, and quickly type out a reply.

Me: Where?

Thomas: O’Malley’s.

I exhale a breath and sit a little straighter. It looks like I’ll be having a drink with Edison after all.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Edison asks again. “You just . . . I don’t know, seem on edge or something.”

I return my eyes to him after scanning the VIP area once again.

On edge is an understatement.

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