Chapter 7

From my open front doorway, I stared down at the small decorated cake that my sister held out in front of her. On the cake, in small scripted letters, was a single word, written in festive pink icing.

I read the word out loud. "Congratulations?" I looked up. "To who?"

Charlotte gave an exaggerated eye-roll. "To you. Who else?" She was standing on my front doorstep looking ten times more awake than I was. "Now, c'mon," she said. "Let me in, so we can celebrate."

I rubbed at my aching eyes. It wasn't yet noon, and I'd gotten only a few hours of sleep. I loved my sister. And I loved cake. I should've been delighted.

Damn it. I was delighted. Charlotte still lived with my parents and was attending nursing school an hour south. I hadn't seen her in weeks.

Still, I would've been even more delighted if only she'd surprised me a few hours later. After my odd encounter with Zane Bennington, I'd slept like crap and was feeling the effects.

Still, I tried to smile as I stepped aside and held the door open wider to let her in. "What are we celebrating?"

She didn't move, and her gaze dipped to my clothes, as if noticing them for the first time. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

I was wearing a long T-shirt and my comfiest sweatpants. The outfit was, sadly, my jammies. Reluctantly, I admitted, "Actually, you did."

"Oh." She lowered the cake. "Sorry. But I just figured…" She paused. "I mean, it is noon."

It wasn't quite noon, but I wasn't going to quibble. I motioned for her to come inside. "Yeah, I know. So it's a good thing you showed up, huh?"

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

My eyes felt like sandpaper, but I tried not to show it. I really was glad to see her. "Definitely. I mean, I can't sleep all day, right?"

Finally, she laughed. "Well, not alone, anyway."

I tried to join in the laughter, but the comment still made me think. Zach and I had broken up how long ago? Five months? Or was it six? Either way, I'd been sleeping alone for so long that I'd started wearing sweatpants to bed. They weren't sexy, but they did keep me warm when the nights grew cold.

And last night had been particularly chilly.

Finally, Charlotte stepped into the house. "So what happened?" she asked. "Did you oversleep?"

"I guess. Maybe."

She gave me a perplexed look. "You did get my message, right?"

"There was a message?"

Charlotte sighed. And then, as if shaking off a minor irritation, she smiled. "Never mind." She began heading toward the kitchen, and I trudged behind her, trying my best to shrug off my grogginess.

When we reached the kitchen, Charlotte placed the cake in the middle of the table and said, "You wanna grab some plates?"

Obviously, there was something she wasn't telling me, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what. "Let me guess," I said. "You called the landline, and got Paisley. Am I right?"

Paisley was my roommate, or at least, she was supposed to be. But lately, she'd been making herself scarce, and I knew why. The rent was due five days ago. Coincidentally, it had been exactly five days since I'd seen her last.

Nodding in answer to my question, Charlotte pulled out a chair and sat. As I put on a pot of coffee, she went on to tell me that she'd called my place yesterday. I hadn't been home, but she'd caught Paisley, who'd grudgingly promised to pass along Charlotte's message that she'd be stopping by.

Charlotte concluded by saying, "You know, you really need to get a cell phone."

"I have a cell phone."

She perked up. "So you found it?"

"No." I forced a smile. "But I will."

In the meantime, I was using the landline, which oddly enough was one of the few things included with the rent – excluding long distance, of course. So thanks to an old cordless telephone, I could still make and receive calls.

In theory, anyway.

I glanced at the charging station, where the cordless telephone was supposed to be. The station was empty.

Well, this was just perfect.

No phone. No message. No rent.

And I just knew that if I opened the pantry, I'd also find practically no groceries, even though I'd been buying far more than my share.

Charlotte's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Just accept it. Your cell's gone."

I gave the charging station another glance. The way it looked, my cell wasn't the only phone that was missing. I looked back to Charlotte and said, "It's not really gone. It's somewhere in the house."

Hopefully.

Charlotte looked unconvinced. "If you say so."

Finally, I was feeling more awake. "But wait, you said you called yesterday?"

"Yeah. Around five."

My gaze narrowed. "So she was home."

"You mean Paisley? Yeah. Why?"

I made a sound of annoyance. "Because she hasn't been around."

Charlotte laughed. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

I knew what Charlotte meant. Paisley was a little on the dramatic side. And I hated drama, just like I hated it when Paisley cranked up the thermostat, even when she was on her way out the door.

Still, I had to catch up with her. It was, after all, my best shot at snagging the rent money. I looked to Charlotte and explained, "I've been calling her for days, but she hasn't been answering. And of course, I know why."

Charlotte's eyebrows lifted. "Because she's too busy boning her professor?"

"No." I hesitated. "Well, yeah, probably. But that's not what I meant. I mean she's avoiding me because the rent's due."

Charlotte was frowning now. "So she stiffed you? Again?"

I tried not to look as worried as I felt. "Well, technically, she always pays, so I'm sure I'll get it eventually."

After a lot of begging, pleading, and yes, occasionally stalking.

Charlotte gave a derisive snort. "Yeah. Like two months late."

This was only a slight exaggeration. "So anyway," I said, "yesterday, I get so desperate that I call her cell phone from this catering gig – meaning a number she wouldn't recognize – and she finally answers."

"So you tricked her, huh?" Charlotte gave a slow nod. "Nice."

"Oh yeah, she just 'loved' that," I said. "But anyway, she tells me that she's out of town."

"Really? Where?"

I gave a dismissive wave of my hand. "She didn't say. But the point is, she tells me that she'd just love to give me the rent money now, but she can't, because she's gone 'til Wednesday."

Charlotte made a scoffing sound. "And you actually bought that story?"

"Not really," I said. "But it's not like I've seen her around, so I can't really call her on it." I felt my jaw clench. "But then you tell me that she was home just yesterday, maybe right here, in this kitchen."

"And you seriously didn't know?"

"How would I?" I asked. "I was at work."

"But if she's not home, where does she sleep?"

"Well, not at the good professor's house, that's for sure."

The professor was married. According to Paisley, he and his wife had some sort of understanding. I wasn't buying it. Not only was the guy a total cheater, he was a pompous, smarmy ass.

"Yeah," Charlotte said. "I'm sure his wife would just 'love' a big ol' sleepover."

My gaze drifted to the fridge. Taped on the front of it were both of my work schedules, written on two separate index cards.

I stalked to the fridge and yanked both of them off. I crumpled up the first one and tossed it in the trash. After all, I'd finished that job just yesterday. The other card, I folded up and set aside, with plans to put it someplace less visible.

Obviously, I'd been making it way too easy for Paisley to know when I was coming and going. And, during the last few weeks, my schedule had been particularly hectic.

Until just yesterday, I'd been holding down two jobs – a part-time job at a donut shop and the catering gig, which had only recently been converted to full-time. Now, finally, I had one full-time job instead of two part-time ones.

Thank goodness.

My gaze drifted to the cake, and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I'd been so lost in my griping that I'd completely lost sight of the fact that this was apparently supposed to be some sort of celebration.

I gave Charlotte an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

"For ruining the celebration."

"You're not ruining it," she said. "You're making it more interesting." She leaned forward. "Tell me. Is Paisley still claiming to be a psychic?"

I had to laugh. "Probably."

I turned and pulled out two of my best dessert plates, along with a couple of forks and a big knife. I set everything on the table and then went back for two mugs of coffee.

Finally, I claimed the seat across from my sister and asked, "So what are we celebrating?"

"Oh, stop it," she said. "You know what. Your promotion."

"Oh, that? It's not really a promotion." I couldn’t help but sigh. "And it's still just a dead end job. I mean, it's not like I'm using my degree."

"So? You're still meeting interesting people, right?"

Instantly, a vision of Zane Bennington popped into my head. Oh yeah. He was definitely interesting, in a giant rich prick sort of way.

I gave an epic eye-roll. "Sure. And I'm serving them crab cakes. I mean, it's not like we're rubbing elbows or anything."

"Eh, who cares?" she said. "At least you're not making donuts anymore."

Well, there was that. In truth, I loved donuts, but getting up at the crack of dawn to make them wasn't my idea of a good time, especially after working a late-night catering gig.

But forget the donuts. I had cake. And a wonderful sister who'd made a special trip to make a celebration out of nearly nothing. If that wasn't a reason to smile, what was?

I was just about to cut into the cake when I heard a noise that made me pause. It was a thud. And it had come from somewhere inside the house.

Paisley?

Or someone else?