Page 102 of Blacklist

A half-dozen moments flash to mind. He’s in every one of them. “I can’t remember.”

“That’s what I thought.” His tone makes me shiver. Sterling sees right through me. He always has.

“I should go.” I force myself toward the door.

“I can drive you home,” he offers.

“I’m going to meet Poppy,” I lie.

Before he can call my bluff, the lock turns and his door swings open. Zeus bounds toward the girl coming through it with a leash in hand. She’s gorgeous, leggy, maybe nineteen.

“Hey, boy,” she greets Zeus, freezing when she realizes we’re here.

I glare at Sterling before forcing a smile onto my face. “You must be the dog walker.”

“Um, yeah.” She clips the leash on Zeus. “I’m sorry. Should I come back later?”

The question is directed at Sterling, who is looking at me when he answers. “We’re all through here, Carly.” He looks to her and speaks like I’m already gone. “Zeus has been pacing around waiting for you.”

“Did you miss me?” Carly croons.

I slam the door on their conversation. I avoid the bellhop’s eyes the entire ride to the lobby. I’m sure a guy who works an elevator for a living has seen his fair share of graceless morning-after exits before.

Digging my phone out of my pocket to call a car, I see I have a missed call. I half-expect it to be Poppy checking up on me after last night’s shenanigans, but it’s not her. It’s Trish, the editor from Bluebird.

The future called while I was busy reliving the past.

That’s the problem with Sterling, I can’t be the girl he fell in love with. Not anymore. If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t even bother trying. I can’t keep doing this. I’ve given up too much. I’ve lost too much. It’s time to move forward. I press the call button.

Trish picks up on the second ring. “I was hoping you’d call back today.”

“I’m glad to hear from you,” I say truthfully. The universe seems to be sending me a sign. “What’s up?”

“Do you think you could drop by the office? I had a chance to look over those edits you sent back to me the other day.”

I bite my lip dreading what comes next.

“I love them,” she says to my surprise. “You totally understand the author’s direction and where she’s losing focus. You’re exactly what this book needs. I was hoping we could discuss a job.”

“Of course,” I stammer.

“Excellent. Can you be here before noon? I have phone calls after lunch, so my availability is tight. Otherwise, it will have to wait until next week.”

There’s not enough time for me to get home and change. Last night’s bar attire is not exactly the height of professionalism. Still, there’s no way I’m losing this opportunity or waiting longer to move on. I needed a sign. The universe sent one.

“I can be there in an hour.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

I hang up feeling more buoyant than I have in months. Now I just have to figure out what to do next. There’s no way I can show up to Bluebird smelling like a bottle of bourbon and hot chicken. I haven’t even brushed my hair. Being there in an hour doesn’t leave me a lot of options though. I could go back up, swallow my pride, and use Sterling’s bathroom. But that’s a step in the wrong direction. I’m not even sure he’d let me.

Instead, I do what every girl should when she has an emergency. I go to my best friend.

Poppy answers her door in a crimson silk dressing gown, its bell sleeves drape elegantly and little black tassels hang off them. She looks like a movie star from old Hollywood with her hair piled on top of her head.

“How do you look like that and I look like this?” I ask, gesturing to my wrinkled jeans and t-shirt.

“Hair of the dog,” she confesses. “Kai made mimosas this morning.”