The Private Serials Box Set(60)

“I’m safe.”

“Lena, this isn’t funny. Tell me where you are.”

“Sam, I can’t. I will eventually, but not today. I’m sorry. Can we just talk? I’ve missed talking to you.”

She sighed loudly, but in her breath I heard her acquiescence. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I got a job today,” I said, smiling.

“A job? Are you planning on staying wherever you are?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I can’t live off twenty thousand dollars forever.”

“Come home, Lena.” Her words were soft and pleading.

“I can’t be in Portland, Sam. I just can’t.”

“Derrek’s gone.” Her words hit me like a freight train.

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean, he’s gone. Disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yeah. Him, Jessica, their girls. Gone. The police are investigating, seeing as how he abandoned his company and no one knows where he is, but it’s just, I don’t know, like a missing person’s case. It’s all really confusing.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Not really. It doesn’t involve me at all.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m sure the authorities would like to speak with you about it. You were probably the last person to see him before he disappeared.”

“Perhaps, but I’m not coming back for that. I’m not hiding, Sam. If the police want to find me to ask me questions, they will.”

I heard her sigh again and knew she was accepting that she wasn’t getting anywhere with me. “What is your new job?”

I smiled a little, silently thanking her for moving on. “I got a job at a marketing firm. I’m starting at the bottom, but I’m okay with that. I just want something that, for once, wasn’t handed to me.”

“That’s great, Lena. I’m glad you’re getting what you want.”

“I miss you though,” I said softly. “I made a friend today, and she was so nice and warm. And even though I was so happy to have met her, she just made me miss my best friend. So that’s why I called.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. I just wish I knew where you were. I’d come see you. Like, hop on the next plane just to see your face, Lena. That’s how much I miss you.”

Those words, even the suggestion of seeing her, was almost enough to make the words fly out of my mouth, almost tell her where I was. I wanted to see her so badly, wanted to tell her everything, but I needed more time. “You have my number now though, so feel free to call me whenever,” I said with a little sadness.

“I will. Take care of yourself, Lena.”

“Okay.”

I heard the line disconnect and hung my head. That phone call did not go as I had planned. I called her because I wanted to hear her voice, wanted to tell her I missed her. But by the way she sounded toward the end of our conversation, it seemed I might have pushed her even farther away. I stared down at the cheap phone in my hand, and my fingers, trying to have a mind of their own, floated over the keys that would dial Preston’s number.

Sharp pain shot through my chest at the thought of his name. I had tried to not think about him for three weeks, and sometimes that was nearly impossible. When I had this phone in my hand, knowing I could dial his number and possibly hear his voice in just seconds, it was heartbreaking. I could call, listen to his voice, and hang up, like some sorry teenager pranking her crush. I didn’t allow my fingers to make that damaging decision and I put the phone back in my purse.

Hearing Preston Reid’s voice would surely end me. And if his voice didn’t kill me, it would just anger me. I was very in tune with my emotions, enough to know I harbored a lot of anger toward him. And rightfully so, in my opinion. What he’d done to me was unforgivable, not that he’d asked for forgiveness. I’d imagined many scenarios where we’d come face-to-face and all he ever said to me in my made up encounters was, “Looks like you should have left him when you had the chance.” Then his face would spread into that beautiful smile and he’d say, “But the f*cking sure was fun.”

Yes, even in my daydreams he was an *. Only, my daydreams battled with my memories because in my memory he wasn’t an * at all. Well, not in a bad way. He was confident and brash, but he was also infinitely caring, protective, and gentle. The only unkind words he’d ever said to me were out of frustration for the situation I was in.

I shook my head, trying to break the conflicting thoughts. I had to remind myself that Preston Reid had played me. He’d taken money from my husband to bury me in lies and deceit. Any remaining thoughts or memories that painted him as the man I’d fallen in love with needed to be erased, abolished. I couldn’t let myself remember the way it felt when his traitorous hands were on me. Couldn’t think about how my heart had fallen for every poisoned word he’d said.

No.

I had to keep moving forward.

So that’s what I did.





Chapter Three


The next morning, I met Becky outside my room at ten. We walked back to the same coffee shop we’d met at the day before, but instead of a newspaper, we used her smart phone to look for listings.