Page 125 of Making the Save
Why did he have to sound so happy about it?
“Then I want you to keep your eye on the lookout for something. Will you do that for me?”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see. And stop spoiling Predator with treats. He’s got a name to live up to.”
26
Sydney
Iwalked inside my building, Predator trailing behind me. The doorman was holding the door for both of us.
“Ms. Malloy,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Hey, Walter. How has your day been so far?”
“Very well, miss.”
“That’s nice.”
It was nice to hear someone was happy. Because the truth was, since Wyatt had left two days ago, my days had been sort of shitty. He didn’t call me anymore. He’d done that for weeks even though I never picked up.
I would now though. Pick up. If he called. Which he didn’t.
The sex we’d had didn’t feel like breakup sex. Quite the contrary, it had felt more like make-up sex. He said he loved me. What was a girl supposed to think?
Considering I’d only ever been in fake relationships, it was proving a real challenge to navigate the real thing.
One thing was certain. My attorney called yesterday to say they had received the signed documents by courier overnight. More legal stuff had to be done, but essentially it was all final. Wyatt and I were divorced.
Growing up, I had no idea if I would ever be married, but I knew I never wanted to be divorced. Being divorced mostly sucked.
I started toward the elevators, but Walter called out. “Oh, Ms. Malloy, I forgot. You’ve got a package waiting for you at the front desk.”
A package? Is that what Wyatt had meant about being on the lookout for something?
Denise was a lovely retired woman who basically worked the front desk, handling calls, packages and various at home appointments for all tenants. A resident concierge that was included in our building fees.
She greeted me with a hello and she vanished into her back room and returned with a box at least two feet wide and two feet across.
“For me?”
She winked. “The return address is a rather unique place and that’s all I’ll say about that.”
I maneuvered Predator and the box to the elevators and into my apartment.
Once inside I let him off his leash. I’d bought him three different types of doggy beds, and he preferred the couch to all of them, but I had to lift him up so that he could settle in.
“What do you think it is?” I asked him.
Predator licked his crotch.
“You know, it’s always the same answer with you.”
Of course I checked the return address. A rather unique address indeed.
It was the home arena for the Colorado Peaks. I tore open the brown paper wrapping and pulled out what appeared to be a fan box. The Peaks logo graced the top. Images of some of their current players. I found Wyatt’s face on the side of the box, looking particularly fierce.