Page 76 of Sleeping with Her Enemy (49th Floor 2)

She took the coward’s way out. “Hello?”

“Hello there. I’m calling from Canadian Movers to confirm your move tomorrow. The truck will arrive at your house on Ava Road between one and two p.m.”

“What? No. The move is scheduled for Sunday, not tomorrow.”

“Amy Morrison, 222 Ava Road?”

She furrowed her brow, stuck her finger in the ear that wasn’t resting against the phone to block out the noise of the bar, and turned her back on the two men who had arrived, one on either side of her.

“Yes, but the truck is supposed to come Sunday at one.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not what my records say.”

“Well, amend your records then.”

“I’m sorry, miss, I can’t do that. We don’t have any trucks free Sunday.”

Anxiety began to settle in her gut as she imagined her house, which was nowhere near ready to be moved. She was only halfway through packing.

“You’re going to have to tell me one way or the other, miss.”

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She took a deep breath. She’d been letting panic get the best of her. She needed to concentrate.

“I said I will refund the deposit on the truck if you want to cancel it, or we can be at your house tomorrow at one.”

She swallowed a curse and shook her head. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at one then.”

“What’s the matter?” Dax and her brother said, pretty much in stereo, as she hung up.

Okay, no time now to wallow in heartbreak. Or whatever it was. “Mix-up with the moving company. The van is coming tomorrow.” She picked up her drink and downed the rest of it in one gulp. “Gotta go pack my house. And/or have a heart attack.”

“Shit.” Her brother ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, we’ll get it done—we’ll have to.”

She was already making a mental list. “We need to see if Jack and Cassie can help tomorrow instead of Sunday. And find out if the storage place can take my stuff a day early. I’m not booked to arrive there until Sunday, either.”

“Where are you moving?” Dax asked. “And where’s the storage space?”

“Dax, this is my brother, Michael. Michael, this is my…this is Dax.” She took a step back. No need for Dax to be all up in her space like that—pointless torture was not what she needed right now. “I bought a condo in a church conversion in the Junction,” she said. “But it’s not going to be done for another couple months, so I’m renting a place at Yonge and Bloor in the meantime. Storage is in Mississauga—I’m going to store some stuff I won’t need until the condo’s ready.”

“You can just store your stuff at my place. I have a huge empty storage locker at my condo.”

Yeah, that was not happening. Unable to think of a way to say I don’t store my stuff with people who broke my heart, she just turned away. It wasn’t his fault—he’d delivered exactly what he’d advertised: a short-term fling. He couldn’t help it if she didn’t want it to end.

But not before her brother succumbed to Dax’s charms. “Wow,” Michael said, “that would be great. If we have to pack your whole place before tomorrow afternoon, not having to make a round trip to suburbia will be a huge help.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow and get your stuff. That will save you even more time.”

“No need,” she said. “We’ll work something out.” She could feel Michael’s eyes boring into the back of her head as she turned away, but she didn’t care. No way in hell Dax was going to brush her off and then ride to her rescue.

“I don’t need you and your millionaire-mobile,” she finally said, once she realized that everyone was waiting for her to speak and that nothing was going to happen until she did. She was being rude, but she didn’t care. She’d been so worried about observing proper post-hookup etiquette. But if they weren’t hooking up anymore, what did it matter?

She could rescue herself, thank you very much.

Chapter Sixteen

He waited until eight o’clock the next morning before pointing the millionaire-mobile northward to Amy’s. He didn’t care that she’d told him not to come. He was beyond that. Honestly, the presence of her brother was the only thing that had prevented him from going over there at three in the morning to start shoving things into boxes—all the faster to get her back into bed with him.

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