“Hey, you’re probably completely wasted—which you have an exception for since it’s your birthday and all—but I just want to let you know that I am on the way. Hope you don’t need anything else tonight.”
Ending the call, I took the freeway, driving for fifteen anxious minutes and pulling off the ramp, coming into Max’s rather expensive neighborhood in Ballantyne.
I’d learned that Max’s parents made really good money. He was well taken care of by them and with the tips he got at Capri, it was an added bonus. He only worked because his parents wanted him to have some kind of responsibility.
Parking the car, I climbed out, collecting the cake and balloons first. After sliding my satchel over my shoulders and locking my doors, I was on the way up to his apartment.
I knocked several times with this silly smile plastered on my face. I couldn’t believe I was so eager to see him, then again, I hadn’t seen him all day. We texted throughout my shift. He wanted to stop by the bar but I told him it was better to stay home, that way he wouldn’t end up too drunk to drive back. He hated leaving his car behind.
I knocked for the third time, my smile slowly fading.
“Max?” I called behind the door. “Open up. It’s me.” Several seconds later and the lock clinked. The door swung open and I prepared myself for an intoxicated boyfriend, only it wasn’t an intoxicated boyfriend that I got.
It was a girl. A very beautiful and familiar girl.
She had long brown hair and light brown skin. Her piercing hazel eyes bolted with mine and she clung to the door, a smile threatening to take over her lips. I knew exactly who she was without even having to be told.
Max’s ex-girlfriend, Evelyn. “Hi,” she chirped. And my heart dropped.
“Why are you here?” I asked, stepping past her and looking around the apartment.
Everything was in place. Nothing out of order. No panties or bras lying around. I placed the cake on the countertop, releasing the balloons and letting them bump the ceiling.
Spinning around, I marched toward Evelyn and asked again, “Why. Are. You. Here?”
She held up an ugly-ass gold necklace with a pearl on the end, smirking. “I just stopped by. I needed something.”
I blinked at her, disregarding the ugly fucking necklace and storming for the bedroom. I expected to see Max lying there, half-naked but he wasn’t there. I checked the shower. No sign of him. “Where is he?” I asked.
“Not here.” She laughed as I entered the bathroom again.
Walking out, I thinned my eyes at her, opening the door. “Get out right now, please.”
She held her hands up in the air, picking up her Coach purse from the foyer table and walking past me.
“In case you’re wondering,” she started, digging in the purse for something, “I have a key to his place. I had it back when we were together. I told him I needed to stop by and get something and he said it was fine.”
Wait. He actually talked to her? Kept up with her? And why in the hell did she still have a key and I didn’t? I watched as she dangled it in the air, as if flaunting gold.
Instead of responding I slammed the door in her face, mainly so I wouldn’t claw her to pieces, then I drew in a deep breath and went for my phone again. There were three missed calls from Max. He was most likely calling to inform me that he wasn’t there, and probably so I wouldn’t run into his ex.
Too late, jackass.
I called back. He didn’t answer.
When I dialed again, the door swung open and in he walked, drunk as hell.
“Babe?” He was breathless, putting on a smile. He walked to me with his arms out but I backed away, which caused him to stumble and land on the sofa. He tried playing the fall off, but it didn’t work. He was too drunk and clumsy.
“Max.” I placed a hand on my hip, doing my best to keep hold of my patience. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want the truth. Do you understand?”
He shrugged. “I always tell you the truth, don’t I?”
I ignored his question because, frankly, I had no clue if he always told me the truth or not.
“Why was Evelyn in your apartment?” I asked, looking him straight in the eyes.
He looked confused for a second, but when he thought about it, he said, “Oh! She said she left some necklace here from a long time ago. Some hand-me-down traditional thing. Her mom’s in town and she has to have it on while she’s around or something. I don’t know.” He shrugged again.
“Okay,” I murmur, “I have another question.”
“Yeah?”
“Why in the hell does she still have a key to your apartment? And why in the hell do you still stay in touch with her?”