The Wife Stalker(16)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have to go,” she said in a huff and walked quickly to her convertible. Figures it was one of those expensive imports.

I stood alone in the parking lot, thinking about our exchange and berating myself for having handled it so clumsily. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive, should have thought more before I spoke. She worried me, though. Leo was a good judge of character; you hone those skills as a criminal lawyer. But I was seeing something in her that he was missing. When she looked at me with those cold eyes and unyielding expression, I’d felt a chill in my spine. She hadn’t reacted at all to my words of caution, and even if she didn’t care about me—and that seemed relatively certain—shouldn’t she care about her new “friend” Leo? But it got me an answer: Piper Reynard was not the kind, feeling soul she pretended to be. Of that I was sure.





13

Piper




Piper couldn’t stop thinking about her evening with Leo. She found herself smiling as she replayed it over and over, and couldn’t wait to finish her classes and get home and talk to him. She’d barely been able to concentrate all day, checking her phone for the texts he was sending her, telling her he couldn’t wait to see her, how she made him feel alive again, even trivial tidbits about how his day was going. It reminded her of her high school days, the notes she and Ethan had sent to each other, how much in love they’d been.

The one sour note had been when Joanna showed up at the yoga class. It felt like her eyes would burn holes through Piper, and it had been all she could do to concentrate while she taught. And then afterward, when Joanna had confronted Piper in the parking lot, she’d just wanted to tell her to go away and get a life—and flashed right back to Ava screaming at her in public. Instead, she’d walked away, but as she strode to her car, she was already formulating the conversation she’d need to have with Leo.

When she got home, she called him, ready to get to the heart of the matter.

“Hey there. How are you?” His voice was warm.

“Well, actually, I’ve been better. I’ve just had a visit from Joanna. She came to the center and took a class, then approached me in the parking lot.”

She heard a tsk of disapproval on the other end of the line. “What did she say?”

“It was what she didn’t say—a warning to stay away from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leo, listen. You told me you’re ready to move on. She doesn’t seem to understand that. I have very strong feelings for you, too, but I can’t let myself get in the middle of this.”

She heard a loud sigh before Leo spoke again. “She’s having a hard time coming to grips with the situation. I’m trying to be kind. But you have to believe me—I want to look ahead, not back. And when I look ahead, I see you.” He paused, as if to let that sink in. “I hope you feel the same. And I hope you’ll stick around while I sort everything out.”

“I want to, but . . .” She trailed off, certain he’d prompt her to finish her thought.

“But what?” he asked softly.

She smiled—he wanted to know, wanted to make things right with her. “I . . . I hate thinking of her living there still.”

Leo cleared his throat. “I’m working on that. She’s going to be gone soon. I promise.”

Piper didn’t answer right away, letting him sweat it out, then finally spoke. “Please don’t make me wait too long.”





14

Joanna




After my terrible yoga class and awkward conversation with Piper, I needed to wind down. I checked on a sleeping Evie and Stelli, whom the sitter had put to bed, then poured myself a large glass of merlot. Whatever was going on or not going on between them, it was clear to me that she was uncomfortable seeing me, a flesh-and-blood reminder that Leo wasn’t actually on the market. Though I’d intended only to make that clear to her, I worried that my confronting her might have forced his hand. What I didn’t realize then was that I was about to take too many false steps and make too many mistakes.

I wanted to look my best when he got home, so I headed to the closet and looked through the dresses hanging there. Each time I’d seen Piper, she’d looked like she’d stepped off the pages of some kind of glossy magazine, and I didn’t want him to compare my more casual style with hers and find me lacking.

My eyes were drawn to a red cocktail dress, which I pulled off the rail, unzipped, and stepped into. It was tight, but if I dimmed the lights, maybe he wouldn’t notice. After squeezing out of it and laying it carefully on the bed, I went to the dresser, found some Spanx, and pulled them on. I squeezed into the dress a second time—it fit better now—and applied some red Chanel lipstick, smoothed my hair, and went downstairs to wait. I was sitting in the corner of the living room, sipping my wine, when my phone rang.

My mother’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi, Mom.”

A voice I didn’t recognize came over the line. “Hello, is this Mrs. Doyle’s daughter?”

I felt my stomach drop. “Yes?”

“I’m calling from Norwalk Hospital. Your mother fell and broke her leg. She’s going into surgery shortly, but she asked us to call you before she was taken in.”