Hello, Sunshine

And with that she turned off of my block, onto another block going nowhere.

10

Danny’s new job site was a gorgeous apartment on Sixty-Fifth and Central Park West. He was redesigning the penthouse: a five-thousand-square-foot stunner complete with a fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a wraparound balcony. I showed up there at 10 A.M. the next morning in Danny’s favorite dress, a yellow twisty number, which I thought made me look like a tulip, but which he seemed to love. At least he had. Whether he’d love it now was a serious question mark.

Did I have a lot of nerve showing up there? Yes. Was it a Hail Mary? Yes. In my defense, he’d had two nights to calm down. He’d had two nights to digest the information that whatever had gone on with Ryan, it wasn’t going on anymore. And it couldn’t possibly compete with everything that was between the two of us.

The apartment looked like it was more than two days into construction—white oak wood floors already in place, paint slabs lining the walls. Before I had too much time to think about it, though, I spotted Danny.

He stood on the balcony in his hard hat, talking to his contractor, Ralph. The two of them were deep in conversation, which allowed me to sneak outside.

Ralph saw me before Danny did. Sixty-five-year-old Ralph, who looked away quickly, his face turning bright red. He had probably seen the photograph. The naked photograph. Which meant everyone probably had.

Ralph nudged Danny, who looked up and met my eyes. He didn’t try to hide how angry he was to see me there.

Ralph was already walking away, not able to get out of there quickly enough.

“Put a hard hat on her, Danny,” he called out.

Danny reached under the balcony railing and pulled out a hard hat, handing it over.

“Not that you’re going to be staying long enough to need it, but we really don’t need to get fined on the first day.”

Ordinarily, I would have complained, but I quickly put it on. “I’m sorry to just show up.”

“Not sorry enough not to do it, apparently,” he said.

So much for a couple of days tempering his anger.

“Did you speak to Sheila?” he said.

My defenses went up. Sheila was our lawyer, our personal lawyer, and she also handled contracts for Danny’s work.

“No,” I said, a little sharply.

“She’s been trying to reach you . . .”

“I’ll call her, but I need to talk to you.”

Danny looked annoyed. “No, you should probably just talk to Sheila.”

I ignored him, pushing through. “It was Amber.”

“What was Amber?”

“She was behind the hack. She showed up at our apartment last night to confess. Not confess, exactly, more like gloat.”

He looked confused. “Why would she do that?”

“Ruin my life or gloat about it?” I said. “Probably the same reasons. Jealousy. Competition. She already stole my book deal.”

I could see him processing this, not sure how to take it. Danny had always disliked Amber, thought she was sneaky and fake. I tried to take comfort in that, until I realized that was probably what he thought of me now too.

“How do you think . . . how did she get access to all your accounts?”

“Her boyfriend worked for the show for a minute. He was there the day they took all those photos. Most of those photos.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed, as if he were realizing something. “How does he play into this?”