Page 92 of Mile High Contract
My brain won’t turn off. I need to stop this. I head to the shower and decide I’ll spend the day at my mom’s and tackle the back patio where she has entirely too many lawn ornaments and old sunroom furniture that definitely needs to go.
As I get out of the shower, only feeling slightly better, I see I have a text and a missed call.
Carter:Why aren’t you answering? Are you that sick? I’m going to leave here and take you to the ER.
I reply immediately:No! I was in the shower. I’m fine. I need rest and fluids. TTYL
The last thing I need is for him to come over here. I’m not ready to face him. I need a plan.
***
“You’ve got to be shittingme,” Christa says, handing me the bottle of wine after she takes a swig.
I lift it to my lips and shake my head. “That’s what I keep thinking.” I set the bottle on the old patio table in the sunroom, where we sit, me drowning my sorrows in Two-Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s, and Christa yet again being the supportive friend she is. She hadn’t even changed out of her work clothes, sitting on the dirty furniture in her red pencil skirt and black V-neck tee.
“I mean, stupid question, but have you talked to him?” she asks.
I snort and shake my head. “Of course not.
“Hon, maybe you should,” she suggests softly.
“Like the bimbo said, he’s just going to deny it and call her crazy,” I comment.
“Or maybe he’ll admit it and move on.” She shrugs.
I stare at her in horror. “Do you actually think he’s doing this?”
“It’s clear you do,” she replies, grabbing the bottle from me. “You won’t call him. How many times has he called and texted today?”
I glance at my phone, seeing it’s 7:30 p.m. and all the missed calls and unread texts. “Like twenty.”
“He’s gonna go to your house if you don’t respond,” she says.
I grin weakly. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“He’ll show up here then,” she states, taking a long swill from the bottle.
“I doubt that,” I say.
She sets the bottle down. “Give me your phone.”
“Absolutely not,” I reply, holding it closer to me.
“You better call him, or tell him to meet you or something. This is dumb. You’re not gonna be one of those stupid chicks in movies who would have had all her problems solved and the miscommunication cleared up if she would have just talked to the person.” She crosses one leg over the other and quirks an eyebrow at me.
I sigh. “You’re right. I just feel sick because what if he does admit it like you said?”
“Then you’ll have your answer and you can move on. I just don’t see the point in him denying it if he’s truly leading a double life. There’s enough technology out there where you could prove it. Especially with your skills.” She mimics typing on a keyboard.
“True,” I murmur, taking the bottle from her.
She pulls her phone from where it sits on the dusty glass table between us. “In fact, what’s this bitch’s name? Let’s social media stalk her.”
I chew my lip and look at my best friend. “I don’t know.”
“What? She confronts you and you don’t even get a name?” She shakes her head. “You’re fired.”
I chuckle. “I know. I’m more a techie. You’re the investigator.” I snap my fingers. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we ask the building manager for camera footage? Then I can show you what she looks like, and we can do a reverse Google image search on her. Maybe it’ll match enough to get some social media on her.”