I tell her.
“Your birthday? Good god. You can do better than that.” She enters the numbers and quickly types something. My phone buzzes about ten seconds later, but she puts it back in my purse. “How did you and Elliot meet?”
My head is swimming, and I don’t know why Traci is asking me. I could’ve sworn I told her. Or did I…?
All I know is I can’t tell her everything. I trust her and she’s my good friend, but it isn’t just about me. “Uh. Work.” There. That’s close enough.
“I didn’t know you worked for Elliot.”
“No. Something else.”
“Why is he having Gavin look into Dennis again?”
“What?” My brain feels like somebody’s dunked it into a vat of syrup.
“If they look too closely, they’re going to find out about your past too.”
“They already know.” I push my thumbs against the ends of my eyebrows. “Dennis lied…”
Traci gasps. “About what?”
I close my eyes. I don’t want to talk. I want to… I just want to rest for a while.
“What did Dennis lie about, Annabelle?”
“Something. Complicated.”
“Annabelle? Are you all right?” Traci’s cool hand rests on my forehead. “Can you open your eyes and talk to me?”
“Mmmm…” I mutter something, although I have no idea what I’m saying. Traci’s frantic calling of my name is the last thing I hear before everything turns black.
* * *
Elliot
Not feeling too good. I’m spending the night at Traci’s.
I stare at the text. I already replied, I’ll pick you up. Send me the address, but my wife hasn’t answered.
If it were any woman but Belle, I would assume she was in a snit or a manipulative mood. I’ve had women pull stunts like this before, trying to get me to come after them or give them what they want in exchange for their “coming back.” Of course, they learn very quickly that I don’t play that kind of game.
But not Belle. If she’s mad at me, she tells me so. Jesus, she wouldn’t back down even when I was a total asshole after finding out about Grayson. I don’t see her changing her MO now.
“You okay?” Nonny asks, tearing me away from my dark thoughts.
“I’m fine. Waiting for a text from Belle.”
“I thought she was going out with her coworkers.”
“I thought so too…but something’s changed.”
She nibbles on the end of her pencil. “Huh.” She jots down an answer to a history question on her homework sheet then continues reading the textbook.
I give Belle ten minutes. When she doesn’t respond, I pull up the dossier from Paddington. It has Traci’s mobile, but not her address. Damn it. I call her. If she doesn’t pick up, I’m going to have Paddington locate my wife’s phone.
“Hello?” Traci answers, her voice low.
“This is Elliot Reed. I hate to bother you, but I’d like to come get Belle.”