Lie, Lie Again - Stacy Wise Page 0,83
were plenty of people in Southern California with gobs of money.
Stuffing the flyer in her purse, she stole a look at the Taylors’ apartment. Had they seen the sign already? She imagined Brandon’s truck packed with furniture and Embry’s yellow car jammed full of suitcases. The thought of not having them as neighbors was enough to make her want to cry. In a quick move, she grabbed the stack of flyers and ran for her car. Jonathan could try to sell the place, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for him.
Sylvia breezed through the door of the Coffee Cart. A piping-hot blueberry muffin and a nice caffe latte were in order after spotting the dreadful FOR SALE sign when she’d opened the shutters early that morning.
Dave had been right. And Jonathan? Well, he’d proven himself to be a liar in addition to a self-important loser. Her mind had roared into gear as the sun came up, and she’d skipped washing her hair so she could leave early. Lucky for her, the trip to the convenience store where she’d purchased a second burner phone had taken less time than planned, leaving a solid twenty minutes for a well-deserved morning treat.
Once her order was in, she chose a table in the corner. The place wasn’t crowded, but the morning crunch would hit soon. She closed her eyes and leaned into the wooden chair, letting the sturdiness of it support her as she reviewed her plans. Did it happen like this for other people? Ha! No way. She was smarter than the masses. She opened her eyes, and a man standing in line caught her attention. He was waving his hand back and forth as though washing a window. Or to knock her out of her daze and get her attention. She squinted, trying to figure out who it was under the black-and-yellow jacket. He looked like a giant bumblebee. She gave him a confused look but returned the wave anyway.
The man approached her table, and now that he was inches from her, Sylvia knew exactly who he was. He had a number in his hand, so she knew he was staying. She took a satisfying breath, marveling at how her luck continued to grow.
“Hi, Sylvia.” He waved awkwardly. “It’s Sal. From the elevator?”
“Of course,” she said, her tone warm. “You’re out and about early.”
“Yeah. My Thursdays start at the crack of dawn.” He pointed to her wrist. “What happened?”
How lovely that he’d noticed! She met his eyes slowly, as though she were trapped and didn’t know whether or not she could trust this person in front of her. Like a cornered animal. And then she smiled brightly. A big, happy, I’ve-never-been-better smile. Because she was a brave soul. “Oh, this.” She lifted her wrist limply. “It was like this when we met. My jacket must’ve covered it. Anyway, it was . . . well, it was a fall.” She tucked her wrist close to her. “A clumsy move.”
He shifted his feet and tried for a smile.
He didn’t believe her. She knew by the way his body sagged and his eyes narrowed, like he wanted to hurt the person responsible. Sometimes it was too easy to make people wonder. She motioned to the empty spot across from her. “Have a seat if you’d like. Unless you’re meeting someone, that is.”
He pulled out the chair and set his number on the table. “Thanks. I’d love to.” As he draped his jacket across the chair back, he said, “I just dropped my daughter at my ex’s place. That’s why I’m here so early. My ex wants her by seven thirty every other Thursday morning, which is a struggle for a number of reasons. It’s tough leaving her after spending a few days together. I end up coming here and loading up on carbs and caffeine before work on drop-off days. Do you have kids?”
She sipped her latte and imagined it was a calming serum. It was like the universe wanted to make sure she never forgot she wasn’t a mother. “I don’t.” She smiled. “Never been married and no kids.”
He nodded. “Divorced and one kid. She’s seven.” His face lit up and fell, all in a matter of seconds. “It sucks not being able to see my little girl every day. At least I have shared custody.”
“Do you live here? In Venice?”
“No. Santa Monica. My ex lives here.”
A server stopped by the table with a large cappuccino and a blueberry muffin, plucking the