She sighed heavily. There was a strict no-pet policy for this building. “I’ll let you into your apartment and then look for it.” Her eyes trained on the hall outside as she locked the key cabinet.
I’d gotten away with it.
I couldn’t believe it.
“Now you’re sure?” she asked me again as we left her office.
“I’m positive.”
“I bet it’s that girl on four,” Ivy muttered under her breath. “First she smuggles in a cat. Now a goddamn dog.”
Trying not to laugh while feeling bad at the same time made me slightly hysterical. I had to stifle my snorts of guilty amusement as Ivy let me into my apartment. I thanked her, went inside, and hid behind my door, waiting for her to leave.
As soon as the coast was clear, I shot across the hall to Jamie’s apartment.
My heart was pounding so fast, I could barely hear anything else over the rushing blood in my ears.
Hands shaking, I let myself into his unit and closed the door behind me with a soft snick.
His place was just like mine. Open living and kitchen area, with a large bedroom and bathroom off a narrow hallway at the rear. I’d half expected to find a wall of the living room covered in papers and pictures and timeline arrows. You know, like a stalker wall.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that straightforward.
In fact, the apartment was depressingly bare and piled with opened boxes. Rummaging through them, I found a lot of books. Either Jamie hadn’t found time to unpack, or he had no intention of doing so considering this was a temporary situation. To torment me.
Growling under my breath, I ripped open another box and stilled at what I found inside. Lifting out a pristine hardback, I turned it over in my hand, feeling a rush of longing.
He had copies of Brent 29.
Despite all the shit that had happened to him, he’d made his dream come true. He was a published author. Not just any author either, but a huge best seller. There was a small kernel of Jane from the past who was proud of him. The percentage of authors who achieved what he’d achieved was probably less than 1 percent.
Sighing, I put the copy back.
“Not why you’re here,” I muttered as I stood and moved toward the desk at the back of the room. The drawers held receipts. That was it.
I glared at his laptop.
Everything I wanted to know was probably on there.
Then my eyes moved to the pile of paper sitting beside the laptop, and my breath caught at the text printed across the middle of the top piece.
DOE
A novel by Griffin Stone
I lifted the top few pages to discover it was a printout of a new manuscript. From the red pen and notes scrawled on the pages, it was obviously copy edits for the book. Considering the title, the urge to read the pages was overwhelming.
However, I’d never read something Jamie didn’t want me to.
Even if the title was my surname.
Ignoring the belly butterflies, I placed the pages back in order and slipped into Jamie’s computer chair to flip open the laptop. The password box appeared. A memory came flooding back from when we lived together. Jamie’s passwords for everything were so complicated that he kept them all written in a little black notebook.
Pulling open the drawers, I rummaged through them, searching.
Nothing.
I moved into the kitchen and raided those drawers.
No luck.
The only place left was the bedroom, and I’d really been hoping to avoid it. I nearly walked into a dark red boxing bag that hung from the ceiling.
Jamie boxed?
The image of him doing just that made me shiver with longing. Another reason to hate him. Jamie’s smell hit me as I moved around the bag. That new, darker scent of his. Curiosity drew me into the bathroom, and I opened the cabinet above the sink. The bottle of cologne sat on the top shelf; I brought it to my nose.
Yup.
That was Jamie’s new scent. Except, not quite. His own personal scent signature changed the cologne slightly, so it was even sexier on him. Jamie never used to wear cologne. Just body wash.
Putting the bottle back, I returned to the bedroom. There was a bed, bedside cabinets, and a dresser. Remembering Jamie always slept on the right, I targeted that bedside cabinet first.
Sliding the drawer open, my heart leapt in triumph.
Bingo. I pulled out the small black notebook and was about to open it when my attention was caught by what had