Thurston pointed at the security guard. “He is telling me that my Roadster was vandalized in the parking deck, and they can’t find out who did it on their security cameras!”
Zeke winced and held up a hand. “Easy, man. I know you’re upset, but the yelling.”
“I want to see the footage of the garage last night,” he demanded, looking back at the man in the hallway.
“Yes, sir. I can take you there now if you’d like,” he replied.
“Wait. I’ll go too. Let me get some clothes on,” Zeke told him.
“What’s wrong?” Jellie asked, then covered her mouth with a yawn as she entered the room, wearing a pale pink silk robe that was inside out.
“I’ll explain,” I said, taking this as an excuse to escape. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her with me back to the guest bedroom, not giving her a chance to say anything more or get involved.
“Stay inside,” Zeke told her as we passed him.
“What is happening?” Jellie asked, sounding more upset.
“Let Noa explain. I need to go with Thurston,” he said just before I tugged her into the room and closed the door.
“For fuck’s sake, what is wrong?!”
“Thurston’s fancy car was damaged last night in the parking garage, and they can’t figure out who did it,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed with my coffee.
“Damaged how? You didn’t wreck it, did you?” she asked me, her eyes going wide.
I shook my head. “No. When I parked it, the car was fine.”
“They have cameras down there,” she said, frowning as if she didn’t understand.
I nodded. “And apparently, one second, the car was fine, and the next, it was damaged.”
Her nose scrunched. “Seriously? Like, what the heck happened? Did a ghost do it?”
I giggled into my cup, although I felt bad about it. That car was expensive, and although I saw no reason to spend that much on a vehicle, I did hate it for him. His insurance would handle it though. He was overreacting. The poor security guard hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Are you laughing?” she asked, lowering her voice.
I shrugged. “I’m sorry. You said a ghost.”
She pressed her lips together, then grinned and walked over to sit down beside me.
“You don’t like him, do you?” she said.
I shrugged. “He is nice. He has a lot going for him. Checks all the boxes, but there was no spark.”
She sighed. “You’re aware that there is no man like the ones you write in your books, right?”
I smirked and looked down at my cup. Actually, there was, but I didn’t say that. “I’m not looking for that. I just … I think I’m not emotionally available in that way.”
Her brows drew together. “You were engaged last month.”
I had been, and I shouldn’t have been. “I think because Arden had become a habit.”
“So, you aren’t still harboring feelings for him? He’s a douche canoe. Who I believe pissed off the mob and had to flee the country. Or maybe it’s tax evasion. I always wondered how an editor had such a nice apartment. Didn’t add up.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed as I took another drink.
“Don’t laugh at my scenarios. They could all be true. His disappearance was weird.”