The Wife Upstairs(23)

But he can’t keep from delivering one last parting shot.

“Good luck, man,” he says, his gaze skating over to me. “She’s a fucking handful.”

The shame that rises up in my throat threatens to choke me. I hate this, that Eddie now knows this asshole was a part of my life, that he fully understands just how shabby everything was before he found me.

Slipping an arm around my waist, Eddie gives me a brief squeeze. “Janie, would you go grab my phone out of my car? I want to be sure I get John’s phone number in case there are any other issues.”

It’s not the reaction I expected at all, which is maybe why I just nod and start to cross the parking lot to Eddie’s car.

I’ve just reached the back bumper when I glance over my shoulder at Eddie and John.

They’re standing closer now, Eddie’s head lowered as he speaks to John.

He never lays a hand on John, never uses his superior height to loom over him or threaten, but there’s something there, etched in every line of his body, that speaks of violence. That makes me think he wants nothing more than to send John through the windshield of the nearest car.

And John, stupid though he may be, sees it, too. His face goes even paler, and whatever Eddie is saying, smiling all the while, has John backing up the steps, his hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants. In his haste, he actually stumbles, arms pinwheeling, and Eddie makes no move to steady him, letting him flail before John rights himself. With one final dirty look at me, he turns and heads back up to his apartment.

His now. His alone. Never mine again.

Eddie walks over to the car, then, his gait loose and rolling again, all that tension vanished like it was never even there.

And when he reaches me, he holds out his hands, takes mine, and squeezes.

“Please tell me that douchebag wasn’t your ex,” he says with a grin, and I’d be lying if I said a little shiver of lust didn’t go through me. Is it because of his proximity or because protecting me from John is a turn-on?

In any case, it’s not totally feigned when I press closer and say, “Please have a better opinion of my taste in men.”

Still grinning, Eddie leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose. “How can I when you’re in love with me?”





11





It takes forever to plan my first “accidental” meeting with the ladies of Thornfield Estates. The moment had to be perfect, after all—I was only getting one shot at this, and I wanted to be sure I nailed it. I’d thought about trying to engineer something in the village, bumping into them at Roasted, maybe just strolling down the sidewalk, bags from one of the pricier boutiques hanging off my arms.

I’d spent hours imagining that scenario, and while it was satisfying, it didn’t have quite the impact I wanted.

Then I’d thought about being really bold and just texting them, inviting them over for lunch at Eddie’s, but the house still held too much of Bea, and I was worried that I’d look like a pale imitation standing in her space.

Then I remembered that Emily Clark and Campbell Reed both loved to walk the neighborhood in the mornings, and suddenly I knew exactly how I wanted that first meeting to go down.

So here I am, walking the sidewalks of Thornfield Estates, Adele on her leash pulling me along.

Walking a dog when you’re not being paid to do it is actually kind of fun. The weather is nice, Adele is well-behaved, and I like how she looks back over her shoulder at me whenever she spots something new, wagging her tail, giving me her little doggy smile.

Or maybe I just like her more now because she’s mine. Mine and Eddie’s together, bought after Bea was long gone.

I’m so busy thinking about that, this idea of Eddie and me having something that’s only ours, that I almost miss the moment when Emily and Campbell see me.

But when I glance up, there they are, both wearing white and brightly colored neon sneakers, both with sunglasses so huge half their faces are covered.

That’s a shame because it means I don’t catch as much of their expressions as I’d like, but the subtle parting of Emily’s lips, the way Campbell’s stride stutters just a little, is enough.

“Jane?”

Emily moves forward, a little faster than Campbell who ambles up behind her, hands pressed to her lower back.

“Oh, hey!” I say, raising my hand, then tucking my hair behind my ear, ducking my head a little, in full Sheepish Mode.

“I thought you’d quit dog-walking?” Emily asks, glancing down at Adele, and I laugh a little, winding a part of the leash around my palm.

“I did,” I say. “I’m just out walking Adele for a little exercise.”

I wait for it to click. They have to put the pieces together themselves because if I push it, the gossip will be about how smug I was.

Look, don’t get me wrong—I am super fucking smug right now. But I also want Emily and Campbell and Caroline McLaren to eventually see me as a friend, not an enemy, and that means I have to nail this delivery, the moment they first see me as Eddie’s girlfriend, not the dog-walker.

“Did Eddie give her to you or something?” Emily asks, and I stifle a sigh. Of all the ladies in the neighborhood, Emily is the nicest, but definitely not the brightest. I suddenly wish Caroline were there. I’d have to do a lot less work for her.