The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set

She didn’t make him wait for a response that time, immediately sending back, “Relaxing. How’s yours?”

“Well, I’m a cheating husband in a room predominantly consisting of women.”

“Lol, so great?”

“The greatest. Macaroni salad is a hit though,” he added, unsure of how close he was to toeing the line. Would that amuse her or piss her off?

“I hope you stirred it before you put it out,” she sent back. “The good stuff tends to gather at the bottom.”

Amanda had stirred it, but he wasn’t going to say that.

“Thanks for your help last night,” he sent back instead.

“I’m sure you would have been completely lost without my assistance,” she joked, adding a wink.

“Any plans tonight?” he asked.

“I have to work.”

“After?”

Her response to that one took a little longer, but finally came after a couple minutes. “I have to not go to your apartment.”

Frowning a little, he eased back in his chair. Since she’d caught him by complete surprise, he was a little more forthright than he might’ve been when he asked, “How much have I screwed this up?”

It registered that she read the message, but she didn’t respond. Not even after a couple minutes passed. Sighing, he closed his messages and turned the phone face down, just in case she decided to answer him at an inopportune moment.

He caught Angela glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, and when he looked at her, she stiffened. For a split second dread washed over him—great, she’d probably noticed him texting Willow and now she was going to join the mob of women who hated him.

He was just about to get up and find somewhere else to wander when Angela stilled him with a hand on his arm. “Are you still… um, do you still do private investigations?”

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“Yeah…”

She nodded, her gaze flitting away uncertainly. Then she looked back. “Tucker has been looking into a job in Chicago; he wants to move back here. If that happens… I think I might need one.”

“Oh. Okay.” He eased back in his seat, trying to process the meek woman’s request. “Um… well, I can give you my phone number, in case you need it. Is everything all right?” he asked, more on a personal level than a professional one.

Her cheeks flushed and she avoided looking at him. “I think he’s talking to someone else—someone here. I think that’s why he wants to move back. If he’s going to leave me, I’d like some advance notice.”

He caught his jaw as it was dropping, but he wasn’t accustomed to frankness from Angela, so she caught him off guard.

“I tried to check into it on my own, but he’s too smart to get caught—no offense.”

Wincing slightly, he said, “None taken.”

She nodded, glancing around the room, then back at him, a little hint of anxiety on her face. “This is confidential, right? Or do I have to pay you for it to be confidential?”

Ethan shook his head. “I won’t say anything. I don’t even like your husband—no offense.”

A little smile crept across her face as she echoed back, “None taken.”

---

A few days passed without another word from Willow.

On Wednesday he texted her to see if she’d respond; she did, but he didn’t ask about her coming over that time.