Page 20 of Sleeping with Her Enemy (49th Floor 2)

Oh, God. She felt like she might start crying again. No. No, no, no. She straightened her spine, grasped her handbag with all her might, and started clacking down the path in her heels.

She wanted to look back, but she didn’t. Just kept concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Step, step, step. Until finally she clicked her way up the ramp onto the waiting ferry. Walking to the far end, she stood against the far railing so she was facing the skyline.

As the boat bumped out of the dock, her phone buzzed. She’d sent the requisite text to her brother earlier, but forced herself not to look at the fifty-nine—yes, fifty-nine—unread texts she had. The one incoming made it an even sixty. She looked down. Mason. She swiped over to her email, and the icon showed a hundred and seventy-seven unread messages.

As the boat picked up speed, the wind whipped through her hair. It felt good. Surprisingly good. The sun, warm on her skin, did, too. Another buzz. Sixty-one texts. She looked down at the phone. Her screen saver picture was a shot of Mason opening a record she’d given him last Christmas, his face intensely concentrating on the task.

You know what? Fuck it.

She stood up straight, retracted her arm in her best imitation of Brandon Morrow, the Jays’ most underappreciated pitcher, and hurled the phone into Lake Ontario.

Chapter Five

“This is so amazing. I can’t thank you enough,” Amy said, spinning in a slow circle in Cassie’s apartment.

“Well, it’s nowhere near as nice as your house, but I’m happy for you to stay as long as you want. I’m always at Jack’s anyway. I don’t even know why I keep this place.”

Amy had gone directly to Jack’s house from the ferry, and he and Cassie had taken her to her house to pack a bag. She’d emailed Mason and told him she was clearing out for a week and asked him to have his stuff out. He’d written back assuring her he would be gone before the week was up. It was all very civilized and businesslike. There had been no gnashing of teeth, no more sobbing—she seemed to have gotten that out of her system with Dax. Maybe she was just numb, but she wondered why there wasn’t more drama. If you really, truly loved someone, shouldn’t you be more broken up in a situation like this?

“It’s important to have a place of your own,” she said, understanding exactly why Cassie held on to the cute, cozy apartment. “And it is too as nice as my place. It’s totally charming.” It was the truth. In some ways, the studio apartment reminded her of Dax’s little house. It was much girlier, but functionally, there were similarities. It was small but comfy and stocked with everything a person needed, making her question why she’d ever bought her three-bedroom house to begin with. She’d been twenty-three when she bought it. What did a twenty-three-year-old need with eighteen-hundred square feet? She’d been planning ahead, even then.

“Yeah, it’s kind of symbolic, I guess,” Cassie said. “I worked hard to afford this place back in the day, and I’m not ready to give it up just because I happened to run into Mr. Richie Rich.”

Amy smiled at Cassie’s name for Jack. And even though she knew and Cassie knew that the place was purely symbolic—she couldn’t imagine anything wrenching apart Jack and Cassie—she said, “I hope I’m not keeping you out. Mason should be out of my place in a week at the most.”

“Not at all. Stay as long as you like. But I hope you know Jack meant it when he said you’re welcome to stay with us in his house. There’s a guest room with your name on it if you change your mind.”

“I appreciate it. I just kind of want to be alone to, I don’t know, wallow and lick my wounds. That sounds dumb, doesn’t it? But I’ve never really lived alone before. Mason and I were already dating when I bought the Forest Hill house, and he moved in a month later. I went from college roommates to him.”

“I get it. Just don’t hide out too much.” She flashed a smile. “I’ll come by to check on you tomorrow.”

“Jack and I aren’t done discussing the work situation,” Amy protested. “I may still see you at the office tomorrow if you come by for lunch like usual.” Her boss had ordered her to take the week off. Amy had insisted that she was fine to come to work. She’d told Cassie she wanted to be alone, and it was true…to a point. But a week with nothing scheduled? She wasn’t sure she could handle that. “Tell Jack I’ll call him later.”

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