“Who?” I strode toward the coffee table and took the card out of the bouquet. Ivy must have placed them here for me. The card read:
Margot, we’re so sorry to hear what happened. Thinking of you and wishing you a speedy recovery. Sandy, Joe, Vale, and all the team at Chimera.
“The production team.” I glanced over my shoulder at Asher, wondering how they knew about the attack.
“Ah. I called in for you and explained what happened. I hope you don’t mind.”
The idea of fielding questions about the attack when I returned to work made me a little nauseated, but Asher had probably saved my job. “No. Thank you.” I caressed the rose petals. “It was sweet of them to send these.”
“More people care about you than you think, Jane.”
I didn’t know why. I was horrible at letting anyone in. “Asher?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you forgive me?”
He took a tentative step toward me. “Baby, for what?”
“For shutting you out when I discovered you were deliberately stopping me from finding evidence that might implicate Foster.”
Asher sighed. “You’ve been hurt a lot. And I did lie. But we’re past that now, right?”
“You’ve been doing something so dangerous and so emotionally draining with no one to talk to about it. You amaze me. Thank you, Asher. You are one of the bravest people I know.”
Emotion shimmered in his eyes as he crossed the room to hug me. Carefully.
“If you need to talk about it,” I whispered, “I’m here.”
“One day I will probably take you up on that. But right now, you need some sleep.”
I shook my head as we pulled back from one another. “I want to see Jamie.”
His presence across the hall was a pulse in the back of my head. I was so focused on him, seeing him, I could shove aside my throbbing headache and the need to sleep for a little longer.
However, when I knocked on Jamie’s door, there was no answer. I knocked harder. Called his name. Receiving no response, I returned to my apartment and dug the spare key to his apartment out of my kitchen drawer.
“Jane, what are you doing?” Asher asked, following me across the hall.
“He gave me a key for a reason.” I unlocked the apartment and stopped as soon as I stepped inside.
All his boxes were taped back up and piled by the door.
Next to a suitcase and the punching bag he’d hung in Sheila’s bedroom without her permission.
My stomach dropped.
“It might not mean anything.” Asher hovered at my back.
Each step was agony on my ribs, and I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a decade. Now, however, adrenaline was spiking, agitating me. Seeing his laptop on his desk, I crossed the room, my gaze zeroing in on the papers folded beside it.
Not caring if I was violating his privacy, I unfolded the papers and saw the top one was the rental agreement for the Porsche and the one beneath it—
The papers fell from my hands as I stumbled back in disbelief.
“Jane?” Asher sounded far away. “Jane, what is it?”
I blinked, staring blindly out the window.
A receipt for a plane ticket.
To Boston.
“Jane?” Hands clamped down on my shoulders and I jumped, wincing as pain flared through my ribs.
“Shit, sorry.” Asher held up his hands warily. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I tried to breathe normally. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I don’t …” I touched my forehead. My head was throbbing. And I felt sick.
Was it the concussion or the realization that Jamie McKenna was planning to abandon me?
“We need to get you to bed.”
I shook my head. “Tylenol first … and then I need you to drive me somewhere.”
Jamie wasn’t at the rental place handing over the Porsche, and he wasn’t at his favorite coffee house. For a while, I sat in Asher’s car and panicked that I should have stayed put at the apartment and waited for Jamie to come home. That I might have missed him with all my bad Sherlocking.
Then a thought occurred to me, one I couldn’t shake, and soon I was directing Asher to a house on a quiet suburban street in Glendale. A house that had a back deck that looked out over the Verdugo Mountains and held within it my best and worst memories.
Somehow, I wasn’t even surprised to see Jamie’s Porsche parked outside it or to see him in the driver’s seat staring at the house.
I’d long since given up figuring out the cosmic tie between us.