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The music stopped, and for whatever reason, the sudden silence had her nerves jumping.
She left the tablet where it was, grabbed her fully charged phone to take with her to her bedroom.
Where the bedside light glowed, and the duvet and sheet were smoothly turned down.
“Sleepwalking? Anxiety might bring that on, and I’m feeling pretty anxious.”
After putting the phone on the bedside table, she climbed into bed, still in her sweats. But left the light on.
A precaution, she thought. Just a precaution.
As she closed her eyes, she heard—thought she heard—a door softly close.
For the first time in her life, Sonya pulled the covers over her head.
When she woke in the light, she convinced herself she’d imagined things. Just anxiety, she thought again. She hadn’t allowed herself to admit how much stress this move entailed.
Enough she’d slept in her clothes.
No big deal. She’d get coffee—and some of that coffee cake—check the work, fuss with what needed fussing with. Then she’d shower, spruce herself up a bit, and drive into the village.
She needed to get out, stop at the bank and open an account, visit some of the shops, take a close-up look at the bay.
She went straight down to the kitchen. And saw her wineglass standing beside the sink.
“Okay, that’s it. No more crashing in front of the TV.”
After she made coffee, sliced some cake, she took both up to the library. She’d go over the work while she ate.
Since she only planned to work an hour or so, she didn’t bother with a fire.
She spent a little more than two, but knew when good was good.
And this was damn good.
Let it sit, she told herself. It was still shy of nine, so she’d let it sit, get that shower, change, then take one more look before she sent it off to Anna.
When the doorbell bonged, she nearly jumped out of her ancient slippers.
“Jesus! I’ve got to ask if I can change that thing.”
When she went down and opened the door to Trey, her first thought was: Why? Why hadn’t she showered and changed first?
“Morning,” he said. “I hear you have a printer that needs moving.”
“Oh. Anna shouldn’t have bothered you about that.” She stepped back to let him in. “It’s not urgent.”
“I’m heading out to see a client, so it’s not much of a detour. Where’s the printer?”
She had a moment to think he smelled good—fresh, outdoorsy good. And she almost certainly didn’t.
“First floor in the library. I’d like to set it up on the second floor. Can I get you coffee?”
“That’s okay, I’ll be getting some. The client drinks it by the gallon.”
Wishing she’d at least taken a brush to it, she shoved a hand at her hair. “How’s your dad?”
“The boss cleared him to work today, so he’s good.”
