Page 27 of Faking Forever
More interminable ringing followed by a click and then silence.
For a second she believed he’d ended the call again but then a slight, weary sigh betrayed his presence at the other end of the line.
“Smith?”
“What do you want, Kenna?” Nothing but icy hostility in that voice.
“I was coming to see you?—”
“Why the fuck would you want to do that? Our lawyers can handle everything.”
Her heart dropped, and she felt abruptly sick. It had been the unwelcome arrival of the issue of divorce summons that had set her on this foolish course in the first place.
She should have known the moment the document had been served at her office a week ago that trying to speak about this with Smith would be futile.
“I see that now,” she whispered. She’d been such a fool. She should let this—him—go. It truly was over.
“Right, good.” His tone was brusque. Dismissive. “That’s settl?—”
Crap.
She felt like a prisoner who’d wasted her one phone call.
“No,wait, please. I need help. I-I don’t know where I am. Would you send a mechanic? Or a tow truck? Even an Uber would be?—”
“Kenna,” he interrupted, sounding like man pushed to his limit. “What are you talking about?”
“I was coming to see you and I got… Well, I got lost. And now my car’s stuck and it won’t budge.”
Her voice was getting high and breathless and she sounded like she was on the verge of hysteria.
Honestly? She felt that way too.
Absolute silence met her words and for a panicked moment, Kenny worried that she’d lost signal again. She jerked the phone from her ear to check if the call was still ongoing.
“Smith?”
“Lost? What the fuck do you mean lost? Lostwhere?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be lost, would I?” Her uncharacteristically tart comeback was indicative of her spiraling sense of panic and dread.
“Kenna?” He sounded wary, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this situation. And who could blame him? She felt as if she was slowly going off her rocker. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.” Despite her best efforts, her voice wobbled alarmingly.
“Send me a pin.”
The relief nearly buckled her knees and she swayedalarmingly as the tension left her body taking all of the adrenaline with it.
“Thank you,” she whispered and hastily pulled up his WhatsApp account to ping him her location.
A soft chime sounded on his end of the line—her message going through—and there was a short silence broken by a soft, heartfelt,“Fuuuck me. Where’s Paul?”
“I drove myself.”
“Why the fuck did you do that?Christ!”
“I wanted…” Ugh, it really didn’t matter anymore. Her motivations were moot in the face of his hostility. The man wasn’t interested. “It doesn’t matter. Uh…I think I’ll head back to the car and wait for whomever you send. Thank you.”
