A moment passed, then Carla said, “When I saw the news, my heart just froze. You had no clue?”
“That Eli would get himself killed one day because he was having an affair with a married woman? No, I had no clue.”
Carla tsked. “Sometimes life seriously sucks. I know how much you loved Eli.”
“How’s Rayna?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to think about what I’d felt for Eli, because I would likely fall apart, right here in front of countless strangers.
“Great. She’s having a blast here.”
“Good, that’s good.” A heavy sigh oozed out of my body. At least that was positive news.
“When are you going to be home?” Carla asked.
“Between five-thirty and six, same as usual,” I answered.
“What? Tell me your boss isn’t that much of a bitch that she’s making you stay.”
“No, of course not. I chose to stay.”
“Why?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to head home—I’m definitely no use at the office today—but…I just couldn’t. I guess I needed some time to pull myself together. To deal with the shock of all that’s happened. And, my God, Carla, I’m afraid I’m going to break down the moment I see Rayna. She’s going to ask where Eli is, and how do I tell her…” My voice cracked.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
A weird feeling suddenly passed over me, the kind you get when you sense you’re being watched.
It stopped my tears in my eye ducts, because up until that moment, I was certain I’d been about to start crying.
Spinning around, I surveyed the crowd. I saw happy lovers strolling hand in hand, girlfriends carrying multiple shopping bags, people standing near the railing at the edge of the water.
In other words, I saw nothing out of place.
But still, that odd feeling didn’t leave me.
“Carla, I’ll see you later,” I said hastily, then closed the phone.
One more quick glance around and I assured myself I was being paranoid. Who would be following me in this very public place?
I stuffed my cell phone back in my purse and headed for the street. Once again, it hit me that I wasn’t in the middle of a nightmare.
Actually, I was—only this nightmare was real.
I pushed that thought aside and forced myself to think about Rayna, how I had to be strong for her.
She was going to need me, and I wouldn’t let her down.
chapter three
Needless to say, I didn’t get any work done when I went back to my office, but I stayed there the full day nonetheless. I even lingered several minutes after five, giving most of our office staff a chance to leave so I wouldn’t have to face them.
I did peek my head into Debbie’s office to tell her goodbye, and she told me to make sure I stayed home the next day. There was no mention of Jason, but the fact that she was applying a fresh coat of lipstick told me he would soon be on his way up.
Shortly before five-thirty, I was heading to the lot where I’d parked my car, when I heard my name.
I turned. Kim, a heavyset, dark-skinned woman from the agency, was rushing toward me.
“Vanessa,” she said as she reached my side. Sadness creased her forehead. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier because I was out with a client. I’m so sorry about your ex.”
“My fiancé,” I clarified.
“Fiancé, right. I read the story on the Internet. Holy shit, it was gruesome. Killed with a bow and arrow! In bed with another woman! I can’t imagine what you’re going through. And when the news hits the papers tomorrow—”
“Thanks for your concern,” I said, cutting her off. But I wanted to say, “Do you think that repeating the dirty details is making me feel any better?”
I cut her some slack, because none of what had happened was her fault. I started walking again, picking up my pace a little.
She clearly didn’t get my not-so-subtle hints that I wanted her to drop the subject, because she fell into step beside me and continued talking. “I was dating this guy once. Big shot in some finance company. He took me out for all these fancy dinners, wooed me on his yacht. I wish someone had shot that asshole with a bow and arrow, because when I found out he was married—”
“You know, Kim,” I said, halting, “I’m really not in the mood for this.”
A hurt look passed over her face. “I’m just trying to say I understand what you’re going through.”
“Yeah, I know,” I told her. “Everybody does. More people have told me today that they’ve been cheated on than during the rest of my life combined.”
“I’m only trying—”
“It’s okay.” I placed a hand on her shoulder and offered her a small smile. “I know you care. Thank you.”
I turned to the right, leaving Kim standing on the sidewalk. Perhaps I was abrupt with her, but didn’t I have a right to be? Let’s face it, I’d had a really shitty day.
I don’t know why, but as I was walking south, I again got that feeling that someone was watching me. Turning, I saw no one suspicious, not even Kim staring at me with an evil expression. I saw office workers making their way to wherever they’d parked their cars.
And then it dawned on me that perhaps I was sensing Eli.
“Forget it, Eli,” I mumbled, imagining him trying to find a ghost whisperer to reach out to me. “Even an apology from the other side isn’t going to get me to forgive you.”
Only when I exited the MacArthur Causeway onto South Beach did I realize that I had somehow navigated my way home. I didn’t remember one bit of the drive, but given my state of mind, I suppose that was only natural.
Glancing at my car’s digital clock, I saw that it was ten minutes after six. Rayna would no doubt be anticipating my arrival at Carla’s place, as she always did this time of day. And yet when I got to Washington Avenue, I found myself driving past my condo and down to South Pointe Park.
I drove as far south as I could go, to where the street ended and the rocky shoreline began. With my car radio tuned to 99.1, I listened to Kanye West as I stared out at the water.
South Beach had been my home for only three months, but I loved everything about this place. My building was in the historic art deco district. Tourists loved taking walks along Ocean Drive and Collins Avenue, where they could check out the prewar art deco hotels like the Breakwater and the Colony and the South Beach. Buildings with rounded edges, decorative sculptural panels, sleek symmetrical patterns, and a few with futuristic forms. And even though some of the facades appeared small, most of the hotels offered idyllic private courtyards lined with palm trees and boasted pools with stunning designs. During the Depression, the art deco buildings had been designed with bold colors and shapes with the hope of a better future. As such, they had symbolized decadence.
At night, the Ocean Drive strip lit up in an array of neon colors, and that was part of what gave South Beach its appeal. Now, a new generation of architects had designed towering condominiums, which were popping up anywhere there was space. Like Portofino Tower at the southern tip of South Beach, where I now sat in my parked car. But I wasn’t partial to skyscraper condos in a part of Miami that had become world-renowned for its low-rise art deco designs. It’s one of the reasons I particularly loved my building. It was only six stories high, and featured both