“So why, are the doors open?” I cheeked, eyeing the few people milling around in the lobby. They were all swathed in buttery colored silks and custom made tuxedos. The whole scene screamed ‘Behold the Wealthy’ in the most obnoxious of ways.

“There’s a party on the fifth floor—a private party,” he emphasized. “The doors are closed to all customers.”

The fifth floor was Caleb’s floor. I realized this with a sinking feeling in my stomach.  He never mentioned a party to me. True, he had an especially busy week at work but how does one forget something like that?

“Well, I just happen to be attending the Fossy party,” I said using my best snooty voice.

“Yeah? I don’t think so,” his eyes were roving over my jeans and t-shirt.

“My names on the list pal,” I said quickly. I didn’t even know there was a list. “Ava Lillibet. Check for yourself.”  Ava was a colleague of Caleb’s, he spoke about her horrid garlic breath and melon sized breast implants often. I stuck out my chest just in case. My feeling about the list was correct and seconds later, the fat eyed guard located my fake name on the paper in front of him.

“Okee dokee, Ms. Lillibet. You can go right up,” I didn’t look at him as I whipped around and headed over to the elevators.  Hopefully the real Ms. Garlic-breath wouldn’t make an appearance any time soon and blow my cover. The elevator ride was torturous. When I heard the ‘Ding’, I sprang out almost tripping over my own feet. I batted my eyes in surprise.  There was no sign of desks, or fax machines or poker faced employees. The entire floor had been cleared of its serious nature, and replaced with elegantly laid dinner tables with floating candle centerpieces and polished crystal goblets. All of the shades in the office were open to show the impressive view of the Ft. Lauderdale waterway.  Beautiful people mulled over trays of caviar that were traveling across the room in the hands of white-gloved servers.  I pressed myself against the closest wall and began scanning the room for his face.  No Caleb. Not with the flighty group of secretaries that always kept me on hold way too long and not with his stepfather, whose smile was now turning on a group of investors. I felt a rush of anxiety. What if he was waiting for me at my apartment right now and here I was snooping around his office like a paranoid…

I would do the halfway decent thing and leave, before I made a total ass of myself.  I shimmied towards the exit sign hoping to find the stairs. I would have to pass through a corridor of what looked like offices but there was little chance any of them would be occupied while there was a party in full swing. I made a dash for it. I was almost to the end of the hall, perhaps three steps away from the stairs, when I heard his voice. I found it strange that over the trilling of Chopin and the constant humming of a dozen conversations, I heard his voice.

I heeled to a stop and cocked my head, not because I heard him speak, but because of the way he was speaking—urgent and intimate. I leaned in toward the closed door of his office and heard a woman’s throaty laugh. My heart kicked into third gear.

“Would you like to find out?” her voice was clearly flirtatious. You couldn’t mistake that, not even through the two inch paneled door. Chopin’s trilling Appassionato was playing in the background, as I jerked back.

 Find out what?  I held my breath and pressed my ear against the door.  Did I even want to know?

“Some things are better left in the freezer,” my mother used to say.

I pressed closer until my face was squashed against the paneling. There was no more talking. Whatever was happening on the other side of that door was happening quietly. I took a step back. This was my cue—enter crazy girlfriend. I will not yell, I told myself. I will handle this with class and decorum.  I grabbed the doorknob, twisted it and flung it open. The door moved aside like a curtain, revealing a scene that would be embedded on my memory for always. It would change everything. Ruin everything. Break everything.

Chapter Fourteen

The Present

I left. Leah could have him, but I didn’t want to be around when she did.  I didn‘t take much; a couple of books and photo albums that belonged to my mother. Everything else had been destroyed. I stuffed everything into the car along with Pickles and hit the gas. I’d left my box of Mr. X memento’s laying in the center of my scarred coffee table, along with the envelope of pictures that Leah had stolen. She had stuffed five one hundred dollar bills into the envelope as well...I left those too.  If I was going to do this—it had to be done. No more toting around trinkets that had the power to turn my heart into ground beef.

Before I’d walked out the front door for good, I’d held the penny, face up in my palm. Damn penny. Damn Caleb. I closed my fingers and squeezed as hard as I could, until my fist turned white and I was sure that the words, “Good for one free shot of affection—A KISS!” would be stamped on my skin. Then I’d opened my hand and let the penny drop to the carpet.  I slipped a goodbye note underneath Rosalie’s door, in which I lied about a job in California, and promised to write to her as soon as I was settled. I dropped my keys off at the leasing office and I drove. I felt an emotional weight lift from my shoulders when my car eased onto I—95, and I felt free when I crossed over the state line into Georgia, but I felt absolute relief when Cammie threw her arms around me.

“Welcome to Texas, best friend,” she smiled kissing me on the cheek.  “Let’s begin your new life.”

The Past

Wind battered angrily against the car, howling her protests at not being let in. Outside, the cracked glass of the windshield gathered the dancing snowflakes from the air, spreading a blanket of white across the red tinged spider web. Two passengers sat slumped and bleeding in the front seats, neither was conscious and the driver was soaked in his own blood.  No ambulance had been called, as the car had yet to be spotted in the snowstorm. The passenger woke moaning and clutching his head. When he pulled his hand away there was blood smeared on his finger-tips.

He looked around at the dark interior of the car wondering where he was and who the bleeding man beside him could be. He felt odd, like all of his organs were straining inside of his body. Feeling along the door, he grabbed hold of the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. Then he realized the obvious, something his cloudy mind hadn’t registered at first. The car was crushed to half of its original size.  He released his seatbelt and felt around his pockets for a phone, after finding it, he hit 911. When the female operator answered he spoke, not recognizing his own voice.

“There’s been an accident. I don’t know where we are,” or who I am he wanted to add, but didn’t.

 He set the phone next to him and held his head. A police car would be sent once they tracked the signal. He waited, shivering whether from the shock or the cold, he didn’t know.  He tried not to look at the body next to him. Was it a friend? His father? His brother?