The Private Serials Box Set(37)

"Where are you?"

"I'm safe."

"Lena, this isn't funny. Tell me where you are."

"Sam, I can't. I will eventually, but not today. I'm sorry. Can we just talk? I've missed talking to you."

She sighed loudly, but in her breath I heard her acquiescence. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I got a job today," I said, smiling.

"A job? Are you planning on staying wherever you are?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. All I do know is that I can't live off twenty thousand dollars forever."

"Come home, Lena." Her words were soft and pleading.

"I can't be in Portland, Sam. I just can't."

"Derrek's gone." Her words hit me like a freight train.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"I mean, he's gone. Disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Yeah. Him, Jessica, their girls. Gone. The police are investigating,  seeing as how he abandoned his company and no one knows where he is, but  it's just, I don't know, like a missing person's case. It's all really  confusing."

"It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?"

"Not really. It doesn't involve me at all."

"Perhaps not, but I'm sure the authorities would like to speak with you  about it. You were probably the last person to see him before he  disappeared."

"Perhaps, but I'm not coming back for that. I'm not hiding, Sam. If the police want to find me to ask me questions, they will."

I heard her sigh again and knew she was accepting that she wasn't getting anywhere with me. "What is your new job?"

I smiled a little, silently thanking her for moving on. "I got a job at a  marketing firm. I'm starting at the bottom, but I'm okay with that. I  just want something that, for once, wasn't handed to me."

"That's great, Lena. I'm glad you're getting what you want."

"I miss you though," I said softly. "I made a friend today, and she was  so nice and warm. And even though I was so happy to have met her, she  just made me miss my best friend. So that's why I called."

"Well, I'm glad you did. I just wish I knew where you were. I'd come see  you. Like, hop on the next plane just to see your face, Lena. That's  how much I miss you."

Those words, even the suggestion of seeing her, was almost enough to  make the words fly out of my mouth, almost tell her where I was. I  wanted to see her so badly, wanted to tell her everything, but I needed  more time. "You have my number now though, so feel free to call me  whenever," I said with a little sadness.

"I will. Take care of yourself, Lena."

"Okay."

I heard the line disconnect and hung my head. That phone call did not go  as I had planned. I called her because I wanted to hear her voice,  wanted to tell her I missed her. But by the way she sounded toward the  end of our conversation, it seemed I might have pushed her even farther  away. I stared down at the cheap phone in my hand, and my fingers,  trying to have a mind of their own, floated over the keys that would  dial Preston's number.

Sharp pain shot through my chest at the thought of his name. I had tried  to not think about him for three weeks, and sometimes that was nearly  impossible. When I had this phone in my hand, knowing I could dial his  number and possibly hear his voice in just seconds, it was  heartbreaking. I could call, listen to his voice, and hang up, like some  sorry teenager pranking her crush. I didn't allow my fingers to make  that damaging decision and I put the phone back in my purse.

Hearing Preston Reid's voice would surely end me. And if his voice  didn't kill me, it would just anger me. I was very in tune with my  emotions, enough to know I harbored a lot of anger toward him. And  rightfully so, in my opinion. What he'd done to me was unforgivable, not  that he'd asked for forgiveness. I'd imagined many scenarios where we'd  come face-to-face and all he ever said to me in my made up encounters  was, "Looks like you should have left him when you had the chance." Then  his face would spread into that beautiful smile and he'd say, "But the  fucking sure was fun."

Yes, even in my daydreams he was an asshole. Only, my daydreams battled  with my memories because in my memory he wasn't an asshole at all. Well,  not in a bad way. He was confident and brash, but he was also  infinitely caring, protective, and gentle. The only unkind words he'd  ever said to me were out of frustration for the situation I was in.

I shook my head, trying to break the conflicting thoughts. I had to  remind myself that Preston Reid had played me. He'd taken money from my  husband to bury me in lies and deceit. Any remaining thoughts or  memories that painted him as the man I'd fallen in love with needed to  be erased, abolished. I couldn't let myself remember the way it felt  when his traitorous hands were on me. Couldn't think about how my heart  had fallen for every poisoned word he'd said.

No.

I had to keep moving forward.

So that's what I did.





Chapter Three

The next morning, I met Becky outside my room at ten. We walked back to  the same coffee shop we'd met at the day before, but instead of a  newspaper, we used her smart phone to look for listings.

"I knew Hawaii was an expensive place to live, but this is a little daunting," she said, taking a sip from her latte.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Some of the single listings are a little  scary. I don't mind living alone, but when I think of what kind of place  I could get for fifteen hundred dollars back home … " My voice trailed  off as I thought about the tall apartment buildings in Portland.

"Where are you from?"

"Oh, uh, Portland, Oregon." Her question had caught me off guard. In  fact, most everything caught me off guard these days. It was hard to  trust people because I'd learned that I obviously was a terrible judge  of character. I wasn't sure I wanted to share personal information with  her.

"I've heard great things about that place," she said with a smile, then  turned back to her phone. "Oh, here's a good one. It's close to the bus  line, utilities included, new carpets, and walking distance to the  beach! And it's in the area you wanted, too." She looked back up at me.  "Wanna go check it out?"

"How much is the rent?"

"Fourteen."

I sighed. But then I straightened my shoulders. It was time to bite the  bullet. I didn't want to live in squalor, so I was going to have to pay a  lot for an apartment. Hopefully, once my paychecks started coming in,  it wouldn't seem like such a burden. "I guess we have to start  somewhere."

"Great! Let's go."



Thirty minutes later, we found ourselves outside a building that looked  like it housed about ten individual apartments. It looked cozy. I  imagined everyone who lived there knew each other's names and borrowed  cups of sugar from one another. They kept an eye out for their neighbors  and baked them cookies. I could use something like that in my life.

A very round, short, balding man met us out front.

"Hi, I'm Becky and this is Lena. We called about looking at the available apartment."

"Sure thing, ladies. This way," he said, motioning to the building  behind him, walking toward a small staircase at the side. Once upstairs,  he let us into an apartment and my eyes took in the empty dwelling.

It was beautiful. It had a ton of natural light, it was clean, and it  embodied the cozy feel I'd picked up from the building on the outside. I  walked into the living room and looked out the big picture window and  all I saw was blue: blue sky and blue ocean.

"Lena, this place is perfect."

I smiled at Becky because she was right; it was gorgeous and perfect.  There had to be some sort of catch. I wandered down the hall, which led  to the bedroom. It was spacious and had the same beautiful view as the  living room. I looked through the rest of the apartment, not finding  anything to complain about. There was even a washer and dryer in a  little closet right off the bathroom.

"I'm a little surprised. Is there something I'm missing? Why is this place even still available?"

The man shrugged. "I just listed it yesterday. They do tend to go fast, though."

"Lena, if you don't take it, I might have to," Becky said with a friendly smile.         

     



 

"You're both looking?"

"Yeah, we both just moved here."

"Well, this is the only one bedroom I have available, but there's a  two-bedroom unit just next door. Nearly same floorplan, just an extra  bedroom on the back end. One bathroom. That one has furniture in it you  can use if you'd like. Rent's twenty-two hundred."

Becky's eyes got big as she turned to face me. "That's only eleven  hundred each!" She turned back to the landlord. "Can we see the two  bedroom as well?"

"Sure," he said with a shrug. I followed, but my shoulders tensed and I  got an empty feeling in my stomach. I didn't know Becky, and I thought  it was a little strange that she wanted to share an apartment with me. I  could be a serial killer for all she knew, or she could be one.