Page 96 of Cheater

“I’ll make it all better,” he vows, then opens the back door, grabs my bag, my laptop bag, my purse, and the bag of food and carries them all to the door, still managing to hold it open for me.

I step inside and woodenly walk to the elevator.

When I get there, him behind me, the door opens and the blonde I ran into the last time I was here steps out and takes us in with surprise. His sister, Grace.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” she asks, eyes bouncing between me and Derek.

“Not now,” he grinds out. “Go ahead, baby,” he tells me.

I step into the elevator.

“Derek?” she inquires.

“Grace, this is Chloe. My girlfriend.” Derek looks at me and his face transforms from annoyed, splitting into a wide smile with his eyes lit with excitement. “Chloe, my sister, Grace. Later, Grace.” He loses the smile and presses the button.

“Your what?” Grace looks absolutely stunned.

I sag against the back wall of the elevator. Grace eyeballs me with concern.

The doors begin to close.

“Derek?” she tries.

“Not tonight. I’ll phone you tomorrow,” he states. “I mean it, Grace. Not. Tonight.”

The doors close on her, so I stare at the rising lights. Before we get to the top floor, my eyes bounce his way and he’s staring at me with that big smile on his face. Those cartoon hearts in his eyes.

Of course he’s happy. Quite a coup tonight.

I stare at him with what must be an absolutely dumbfounded expression, I don’t know, but the ding of our arrival to his floor breaks the spell and I’m the first to depart the little box.

When I get to his apartment door, I press my thumb to the small screen and the door clicks.

I follow her as she marches through my apartment, throwing her jacket off as she heads down the hall. It lands on the floor in front of me.

I’m still directly behind her as she gets into my bedroom and kicks off her shoes, throws the covers back, and climbs into the bed. She buries herself under the blanket. Her entire self, head and all.

I watch for a moment and surmising she needs a minute, I set her bags down on the chair in the corner and take the paper bag containing the soup and donuts to the kitchen.

I hunt through the cupboards for the glass platter with the dome lid that I know is here somewhere.

This kitchen is well-equipped; my parents’ designer saw to that to give everyone a fully functional place here in the city, but I know we won’t be staying here long.

I’ve got many surprises in store for her.

I’ve set a bottle of water and a glass of her favorite wine on the table beside her. She’s still under the blankets.

“Chloe?”

She doesn’t answer.

“I’ll run you a bath,” I offer.

She still doesn’t answer.

“Your bath is ready, baby,” I say.

A sniffle is my only reply.

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