any money. She’d pawned the jewelry yesterday to buy presents for Caleb—a few big glossy books about war and history, and a western-themed pair of metal bookends. “I’ll give them a call for sure. Speaking of, I should probably head out. I have to run a few errands before I meet Caleb tonight.”
“Don’t let me keep you from your hot date,” Layla teased. “And thank you for the cookies! My waistline says you’re a jerk, but the rest of me is happy as could be.”
She smiled, made some excuse, and then left the accounting office feeling numb and hollow. Amy waited to get out to her car, drove down the street so Layla wouldn’t see her call, and then phoned the apartment complex.
The answer made her want to puke.
Yes, the apartment manager told her in a chirpy voice. If her application was approved, she would need to put down two months’ rent for the deposit, plus a pet deposit of four hundred dollars for her dog.
Amy felt sick, hot sweat pouring down her face. She hung up, stammering an excuse, and then stared at the dashboard of the car, limp with disappointment. How had she not known about deposits? It hadn’t occurred to her that she’d have to pay Greg to leave, and pay to move somewhere else. She’d just thought she could up and do it. And pet deposits? What a rip-off.
The trapped feeling threatened to swallow her up again. It was the same feeling she’d had when she was married to Blake. It was the sensation of having no options and nowhere to turn, of being stuck in place. This time, it wasn’t Blake but her finances . . . but wasn’t Blake part of the problem there, too? He hadn’t paid her alimony. If he had, she’d have money.
She didn’t know what to do. Sweating, full of panic, she turned her car back on and slowly drove home.
When she got to her house, she thought she was having a nightmare. A stress-fueled vision of her worst nightmare come to life, because an expensive sports-car rental was parked in her driveway. She knew who that was. Dread clenched her stomach.
This wasn’t real. It wasn’t.
Blake was back in Houston. There was no way he’d come to the middle of nowhere, Wyoming, just to chase her down. He wouldn’t . . . would he?
She parked her car in the street and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the flashy red sports car to disappear. She was just stressing, wasn’t she? This was all in her head.
A hand knocked at her window.
Amy squeezed an eye open . . . and there was Blake. He loomed over her car, an immaculately groomed, handsome, utterly disapproving figure in a power suit.
“Get out of the car, Amy.” She could hear his thick disapproval even through the window, and it made something within her die. That small, fragile spirit of independence just utterly disappeared. Her gut knotted, she hung her head and got out of the car.
“Where have you been?” he asked, and his tone was icy with disapproval. “I’ve been waiting out in your driveway for over an hour.”
“Just . . . just to visit a few friends,” she mumbled.
“Friends.” He snorted. “I’m sure. Look at you. You’re a mess.” His lip curled at the sight of her heavy coat and the scarf she had wrapped around her throat. “Your hair is everywhere and you aren’t even wearing makeup.”
She wasn’t. She’d gone out this morning not feeling the need to particularly impress anyone. She hadn’t thought it would matter. Now she inwardly cringed, touching her hair. How was it that Blake could make her feel so small again so quickly? “I’m off work . . .”
“Right. At your little job. Does it feed your soul? Are you making a difference in the world with teaching nose-picking kindergartners how to say their ABCs? Real world-changing shit there, Amy. Making a real damn difference.” He pointed at the door. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”
Crushed, she hopped to get her keys out, hating that she was jumping to please him even as she did it. “I like my job.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. I’m sure it’s gratifying to your ego. You desperately need it stroked. You always have.”
She fumbled with the keys at the lock, her mind racing. She needed to get inside, get away from him. She needed to shut the door on her old life. Her hands trembled as she unlocked the door. Why