Recipe for Satisfacton(69)

Something must have happened with Cole. “Honey, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Sterling parked in the closest garage to the restaurant. She could only imagine how much this parking spot would set her back.

She had agreed to meet Penn because her friend sounded distressed, but also because she was in no hurry to return to her empty basement apartment. The fight with Jack last week tainted her living space so much that she barely spent any time at home. His accusations had broken her heart. But the loud crack she heard when he reminded her she was holding on to something she could never have confirmed that her heart had not only been broken, but her so-called life was not a life at all.

She’d told herself all along that this was a fling, something temporary to get her mind off the drama in her real life. A once-in-a-lifetime experience with an amazing, attractive man. Despite telling herself that every day, her heart apparently didn’t get the memo.

But getting involved with Jack Vaughn had taught her a valuable lesson. She was in control of her life. She was her own worst enemy. And it was time to fight. Starting with the mooches who lived in her home.

Next month, she would move out of her apartment and into her house. The house that she bought. The house that had her name on the mortgage. Her parents would move into her basement unit and her sisters would remain with her in the house until they left to pursue postsecondary education. She would never make the mistake of leaving them with her parents again.

She walked out onto the street. The air felt different against her skin. It even smelled different. And it had nothing to do with the unbearable humidity. She was free.

And all alone.

She’d tried fun and exciting. She’d broken out of her shell, even if only for a little while. But would she be able to maintain this new way of living without Jack?

Chaos and disorder led to trouble and she’d had enough of that as a child—even as an adult. She compartmentalized her life, neatly packaging herself. If she planned and plotted and organized everything then she would succeed. She’d have a perfect trouble-free life.

What a dummy she’d been.

No matter how organized she was, it didn’t stop the fact that she owed the bank. It didn’t stop her parents from screwing her over. It didn’t stop Jack from believing the worst.

She wiped a tear from her eye and turned the corner, walking a few blocks. When she reached the cafe, she waited. And surveyed the crowd. No sign of Penn. She paced the street, walking closer to the square. It was filled with people, and not just locals but tourists, cameras in hand, taking in the sights of the venue and the billboards. Traffic filled the streets. Cars were lined up bumper-to-bumper, waiting for their light to turn green as pedestrians crossed the four-way walkway.

As she turned in a circle, her eye caught on something across the street. An advertisement. She recognized the logo for Bistro, one of the Madewood restaurants. Also a new logo, one she had brainstormed with Jack only last week. The billboard was an announcement for the Vivian Madewood Foundation Charity Auction.

She gasped. He’d done it. Their plan had worked. Her heart leaped with excitement for Jack. She had no doubt this would be the first of many events that would make a difference in the life of a foster child. But he wouldn’t be here to attend any of them. Because he had left. Without a word.

The memory of that night, of his accusations, still stung. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget the look on his face when he registered the information on her bank statements. His behavior only proved why she couldn’t, wouldn’t, trust the opposite sex. They fell for the fantasy, the perfect-on-paper Sterling, and when reality came crashing down, they turned and ran.

“Sterling Andrews.” Her name was called out from above the crowd in a muffled tone, the voice oddly familiar.

She rose on her tiptoes, trying to see above the crowd, but she didn’t have to try very hard. It parted in front of her and she walked into the throng of people, a nervous excitement in her stomach.

“Keep moving,” the voice directed. “Thank you very much.” It grew louder.

When the crowd had fully parted she spotted Jack at the end of the square, a bullhorn in his hand. She froze. What the hell was he doing here? Where the hell was Penn?

Damn it, Penn! She had been duped again. She had to give her best friend credit. She was an excellent liar.

When the crowd had parted further, she noticed a cameraman and a woman with a microphone standing beside Jack. She gasped and lifted her hand to her chest. It wasn’t just any cameraman. She recognized the red lettering and the logo for Toronto Gossip. The city’s most trashy—and most visited—gossip blog.