“Ah, but it’s more whatIcan do foryou.”
“Oh. Even better.”
“Remember how you said the only way I could help you would be to find Blake?”
“Yeeessss . . .”
“I’ve got good news and bad news.”
He sucked in a breath. “Bad news first.”
“Blake’s stolen another girlfriend.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “The good news is I just saw him at Selena Nance’s town house.”
Silence.
“Malone?”
“Yeah, I’m here. For a hot minute, I thought you were saying you’d dumped me for my cousin.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Wait. Did that mean Malone thought of me as a girlfriend? My heart skipped ahead a minute.Maybe, just maybe ...
“You’re serious, Stark?”
“As a heart attack. I can send you a picture I took with my phone. I have a better one on my camera.”
“Yeah. Uh, send it when you get a chance.”
“Sure.”
After disconnecting the call, I looked at my phone. What the heck? The man who had ended the call wasn’t the same one who’d answered. For half a second, my spirits had been buoyed by the thought that Malone considered me his girlfriend. Did he still have feelings for Selena? Or maybe the same old feelings of anger toward Blake?
Or maybe he’s working. That’s it.
Hard to say, but I’d hoped he would’ve been much happier to get the news. I’d been counting on it, in fact, because my next stop was Chez Douchecanoe.
Chapter 34
I drove to the other side of the Marietta Square, to the cottage I’d once shared with Ken. His car sat in the long gravel driveway to the side of the house, and I felt a mixture of relief—he was there—and revulsion—I didn’t want to be.
But my car title wasn’t going to find and sign itself, so there I had to be.
I pulled into the driveway right behind him. No easy escapes that way.
As I walked around to the front of the house, I noticed that some of the bricks in the path were uneven. I’d placed those there. I’d also insisted that we paint the house a light peach color that would’ve been popular in the late eighteen hundreds, when the house had been built. I stepped on the wraparound porch, glad to see the ceiling was still “haint blue.”
I turned to a mantra after ringing the doorbell.
Slow inhale:This is a beautiful home.
Slow exhale:I will find another.
The Douchecanoe opened the door. “Stella! What a surprise.”
“May I come in?”
“Sure, sure.” He moved aside to make room for me. I walked in, the whiff of dirty dishes hitting me as I crossed the threshold. I fought to keep my expression neutral as he hurried through the small living room, picking up mail and chargers and such so I would have a place to sit.
