“I can’t believe you’re back at work.” Zoe gazes into her compact as she applies a fresh layer of lipstick, even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with her last layer of lipstick. “You were just in the hospital yesterday, for God’s sake.”
“I’m fine,” Cassie insists.
And she is fine. Thanks to Joel’s quick thinking, at least. They whisked her to the hospital and kept her overnight, but the swelling in her face and throat has gone away completely. But the whole incident served as a scary reminder that her peanut allergy isn’t gone after all, and she can’t go anywhere without her Epi-pen. She can’t count on Joel to save her life at all times.
After all, what if he hadn’t been there? What if she had decided to have her leftover Chinese without him? It’s a terrifying thought.
He was wonderful at the hospital. She was impressed and a little turned on by the way he took charge when the paramedics arrived. He never left her side through the whole thing. He traded his ER shift the next day so he could be with her.
Cassie’s phone rings within her purse. She reaches for it, expecting it to be a call from Joel. He’s picking her up for a quick lunch and should be here any minute. Cassie doesn’t want to spend much time away from the store today because it was closed half the day yesterday because of her hospitalization. She can’t afford for the store to ever be closed.
But it’s not Joel. It’s a blocked number.
She picks up the phone and hears only silence on the other line. And then the female voice that hisses: “Slut.”
Something inside her snaps. Isn’t she dealing with enough without Francesca harassing her? Joel broke up with her—doesn’t she get it? What is wrong with that woman?
“Listen to me, Francesca,” Cassie barks into the phone. “Joel is not your boyfriend anymore. You need to get that through your thick skull. He does not want you. And if you don’t leave me alone, I’m calling the police and telling them exactly what you’re doing to me.”
As she hangs up the phone, Zoe whistles and applauds. “Wow, Cassie. Bravo, my friend. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
She shrugs, although she does feel sort of proud of herself. She’s never snapped at anyone like that in her whole life. “I’m going to tell Joel about this. He needs to know what she’s been up to.”
In the past, she’s been scared that if Joel went to talk to Francesca, it might rekindle old feelings. But she doesn’t feel that way anymore. She feels secure about Joel’s feelings for her. He loves her. He’s not getting back together with Francesca. He broke up with her for a reason.
An hour later, Joel walks into the store to pick her up for lunch, his cheeks pink from the cold. He rips off his black wool hat and grins at Cassie. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Perfect,” she says. Better than ever. “Are you ready to go out to lunch?”
She nods. “Yes, but…” She glances at Zoe, then nods at the back of the store. “Could we talk a minute first? In private?”
His brow furrows. “Of course.”
He follows her to the back of the store. They go to the classics section, where Grandma Bea died years ago. Joel turns to face her, his eyebrows still bunched together. “Is everything all right?”
“Sort of.” She takes a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He takes a step back. “Uh oh. Should I be worried?”
“No, not at all, it’s just…” Why is this so hard? She’s not the one at fault. Francesca is. That woman is out of her mind, and Joel should know the truth. “I think you should know that… that…”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Your ex-girlfriend Francesca has been harassing me.”
Joel’s mouth falls open as all the color drains from his face. “What?” “I think she’s the one who broke into my store,” Cassie says, before
she loses her nerve. “She threw paint on the door. She wrote ’slut’ on the door to my apartment. And… she’s been calling me on the phone and hanging up. Or worse.”
Joel’s mouth is still hanging open. “Cassie…”
“I can’t take it anymore, Joel.” Tears spring to her eyes. “I’ve been through so much lately. She needs to stop. You’ve got to talk to her.”
“Cassie, listen to me,” he says. “Francesca didn’t do this.”
Cassie’s cheeks burn. After everything that happened in the last few days, she didn’t expect this response from him. She expected at least a little support. He doesn’t even give her a reason. Francesca didn’t do this. Case closed. No room for argument. Of course, the perfect Francesca could never be responsible for such a thing.
“I know you still have feelings for her,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “But believe me, she did this. She’s… unstable.”
“I’m telling you.” His voice is louder now, almost angry. “She didn’t do those things to you.”
“Why not? Because she’s too perfect?”
“No.” He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Because she’s dead.”
