When I open the door, I'm slapped in the face with a brisk wind and decide to grab my jacket and gloves from the back of the door, throwing them on as we exit.
I try not to look where I know there is a man sitting behind the wheel of a parked sedan down the street, but as we step onto the sidewalk, Ellie barks, and I look up to find him there, watching me.
Notinthe car, but outside it, smoking a cigarette with a long jacket pulled tight around his barrel torso. He looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him, and I get the sense he was hoping he would be done with his cigarette and leg stretchbeforeI left my apartment for class.
In a fit of panic, I wave at him. That's what a normal person would do, right?
"Morning," I say in a choked greeting, and then give Ellie's leash a little tug when she tries to drag me toward him with a growl in the back of her throat. "Don't mind her, she's harmless."
The man nods, but says nothing as I guide Ellie in the opposite direction, away from Ambrose's private investigator.
We set a brisk pace, with Ellie leading the way toward my morning coffee out of habit.
I bring Ellie inside with me to get her out of the cold for a minute, but have her sit and wait by the door while I order. The staff here don't seem to mind since she's so well behaved.
"Caramel latte," I tell the barista. "Extra hot, extra caramel, extra shot of espresso."
"You want the venti again?" she asks.
"Do you have bigger?" I ask hopefully.
She smiles. "I got you."
I've just finished tapping my card when my pocket starts to ring.
"Sorry," I mutter, stepping away from the counter to hurriedly pull off my gloves, unzip my jacket, and dig in my sweater pocket for the phone before it can be sent to voicemail.
But when I see the name on the screen, I'm not sure I can pick it up.
My throat goes dry as I silence its incessant ringing, but it still vibrates in my hand ashisname flashes across the screen. Ambrose De La Rosa.
I didn't expect him to call me directly. I thought I'd hear from Linette. Or maybe an email.
I'm not ready.
Maybe Ishouldlet it go to voicemail.
It's early. Not even 7:30 in the morning yet. I could pretend I was still asleep.
Except his fucking PI saw me out walking my dog.
I jump when Ellie nudges into my legs, looking up at me with her tail wagging and eyes questioning. If she could speak, I know that look would mean,What is it, Mama?
Voicemail picks up on the screen, and I tap the button to take the call before Ambrose can leave his message.
"Hello?"
"Oh, thought I missed you. It's Ambrose De La Rosa."
"I know," I reply, wandering toward a vacant seat by the window and folding myself into it. "Your name was on the screen."
A small silence. "Right. Yes, well, Linette, of course, passed along your contact information. I hope it's not too early?"
He sounds so eager. Nervous, almost. It makes me want to be sick.
I swallow. "No, it's fine. I was already up walking my dog."
"You have a dog?"
