“No,” Jade tells him. “We’re just being cautious, that’s all.”
“Call me if he shows up again. With or without the restraining order, I want to know. Do you have my number?” Before she can answer, Sebastian continues, “Hang on, I’m texting it to you now.”
A moment later, Jade’s phone vibrates in her tote bag.
“Wow, that is extra creepy that you know my number,” Jade says. “Stalker much?”
He ignores that. “Call me if he starts bothering her again.” Then a pause. “Be honest with me, how is she doing, really? Is she okay?”
Jade chews her lip, her face tight. She looks at me, and something flickers over her face. “She’s great,” she insists in a too-chipper tone. “And you know what? Her ass has never looked better.”
Before he can respond, she hangs up, a look of satisfied triumph in her eyes as she hands the phone back to me.
“That was mean,” I say, taking it back from her. “But thanks.”
“The sooner you have a restraining order against that asshole, the better,” Jade tells me. “Listen, I need to use the ladies’ room. Are you okay on your own for a bit?”
I nod as I watch her hop down from the barstool and head toward the bathroom. Seamus strolls over and sets a fresh martini in front of me, giving me a small smile before he leaves, tactfully ignoring the emotional mess I am.
I take a deep breath, feeling strangely relieved after finally telling Jade the truth about my relationship with Chase, like a weight has been lifted from my chest.
It’s not my fault. It was never my fault, what he did to me.
I think I’m ready to close this chapter of my life, to finally put him behind me, for good. But that’s difficult to do, when I still feel like he’s out there. Watching me.
I chew my fingernail, staring at my drink. Did I really see him, or am I just being paranoid? It wouldn’t make sense for him to be outside our pottery class, right? He hates this part of the city, where the neighborhoods are cheaper, a little more run-down. And he would be at work right now anyway.
Wouldn’t he?
There’s one way to be sure. I look down at my phone, still clutched in my hand, and before I can stop myself, I’m dialing his work number, sliding off my stool and stepping away from the bar for some privacy.
I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to know where he is.
I need to know it wasn’t him I saw today.
“Hi! Thank you for calling Beacon Industries. How may I direct your call?” Caroline’s chipper voice asks when the call picks up.
Fuck. My stomach sinks, my insides twisting unpleasantly. I didn’t think this through. I can’t believe I forgot Caroline was the receptionist there—the woman Chase cheated on me with.
“Hello?” she prompts before I find my voice. “Is someone there?”
I clear my throat. “Um, hi. Could I please speak with Chase Levine?”
“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Unfortunately, Mr. Levine no longer works here. I could connect you with Alicia Livingston. She took over all his accounts. May I ask who’s calling?”
What the fuck.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Chase wouldneverleave that job. His entire life revolved around this job.
“Um. That’s okay. Do you know where he’s working now?” I press.
There’s a beat of silence. Then, almost a whisper. “Sydney?”
