Upside Down(59)

“He can’t fix me, Merry. It’s not something that went wrong. It’s me. I’m not what he thinks I am.”

Merry took a deep breath. “How many texts or phone calls has he sent you since last night?”

I took out my phone and handed it over to her. There were four missed calls and five texts the last time I looked. Right then, Mrs Mullhearn came in with a clipboard. She took one look at me. “Jordan? Something wrong?”

I scrubbed at my face. “No. I’m fine, I just…”

She straightened. “Aren’t up for dealing with the public?”

I didn’t even have to nod. She just handed me the clipboard, which I now realised had about twenty spreadsheets on it. “These titles need to be archived. In the basement. Should take you—” She looked at her watch. “—oh, about eight hours.”

So of course my eyes chose that particular moment to leak saltwater. “Thank you.”

“Off you go,” she shooed me out.

I was so thankful, I didn’t even stop to think. Being in a dark basement surrounded by stacks and boxes, with a list as long as my arm to keep me busy for an entire day, was exactly what I needed. I wanted to be busy, distracted. I wanted to lose track of time. I wanted to hide away where I didn’t have to pretend to be all-smiles.

I didn’t even realise Merry still had my phone.





Chapter Fourteen





Hennessy





“What the hell happened?” Michael asked.

I’d just arrived at the office at a quarter to eleven at night. Jordan had just done a runner on me, leaving me stunned and confused, and I had to come into work because of a possible security breach on the job I’d busted my arse on. Who just happened to be my ex, who was the very fucking last person I wanted to see right now. I’d sent Jordan two texts on the cab ride into the city, but he hadn’t replied.

“I don’t know,” I answered with a shrug. “We had the best night. His friends are great, we laughed for ages, and I even got the feeling that they could one day be my friends too, ya know?” I swallowed hard. “Then we go back to my place and everything’s fine. And then he kissed me and it was… amazing. But then he freaked out. And I mean freaked out. And then you rang and he bolted.”

“Without telling you why?”

I shook my head. “He said he didn’t think he could be what I needed. He said he needed time and that he was sorry. Said he’d call me.”

“The fuck?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought we had something. I thought…” God, I couldn’t believe I was going to admit this. “I was thinking long-term, ya know? I thought he could be all that for me.”

The elevator pinged at the other end of the floor and I sighed. Michael clapped my shoulder. “Put your game-face on. Rob’s here.”

Michael was right. The very last thing I needed right now was Rob gloating in my face that I’d had another failed relationship.

Failed relationship. Fuck. Is that what Jordan and I were? I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t. Not until he looked me right in the eye and told me it was over.

I couldn’t even take any joy from Rob’s misery. He looked terrible and stressed. I’d imagine coming home to find your place ransacked would suck for anyone. Even arsehole ex-boyfriends.

We met in the waiting room. The entire building was empty, save security downstairs who had been instructed to grant Rob access. “What happened?” Michael started.

“I’d been at The Greenroom,” he said. I rolled my eyes, not giving a single fuck if he saw. The Greenroom was a notoriously sleazy gay club for executives, rife with drugs and hookers. “I left at nine with…” His gaze darted to me before he looked back at Michael. “With company. We arrived back at my place to find the door ajar. They took anything they could carry. TVs, computers, jewellery, watches. They even took my juicer. Trashed everything, upended everything. Cops took fingerprints, but they have security camera footage.”

“They got caught on camera?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The police said the men, there were two of them, didn’t even seem to care about the cameras. And that they should be able to get an ID.”

Michael looked at me and I smiled. “If they were stupid enough to get their faces on camera, then it’s very likely they won’t know how to get past the password access.”

“That’s good, right?” Rob asked.

“For now,” I replied. “But who they sell the laptops to might have a different set of skills.”

“You have the police report number?” Michael asked.

Rob nodded. Then he looked at me. “They um, the cops wanted to know the names of everyone who had access to my apartment in the last six months.” He frowned. “I gave them your name but told them you weren’t involved.”

“My name?” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry if that affects your security clearance or your reputation,” he said, and he did look legitimately sorry.

And it was true. In my line of work, reputation and integrity were my entire business. Yet I couldn’t help but laugh. “Believe me, after you told the police you take guys from The Greenroom back to your place a few times a week, they won’t even look at me. And why would they? If I wanted access to your laptops or any of your financial accounts, I could do it without getting off my couch.”