CHAPTER 37

"Emily. Open up." I pound on the door at the end of the hall on the sixth floor. The third time I knock, it swings wide to reveal Rica. "She"s not here, lover boy." "Do you know when she"s getting back?" She shrugs, glancing over her shoulder. "Few days, I think. She asked me to feed Heath." The goldfish circles his tank as if everything"s right with the world. It"s not right. I shove both hands through my hair. "I"ve been calling her all day since the showcase." "Bet it"s hard. Sounds like your phone"s the one blowing up." She"s not wrong. The thing jumps in my pocket every damned minute. The performance was good—better than good. But it wasn"t right… because she wasn"t with me. I head back to my place, my breath huffing in the November air, and find a new slew of texts and voicemails. One missed call from Emily has me relieved because it means she"s not avoi