Page 99 of Don't Leave Me

“I live in Hell’s Kitchen, a few blocks from the theater,” she answered with ease. “Your place is lovely,” she smiled, looking around again. “Do you live here alone?”

“No,” I moved around, getting another angle. “I live here with my boyfriend. We’re moving to Chelsea soon though; it’s a bigger place,” I nodded.

I snapped a couple more pictures before she spoke again.

“I’m sorry, I can’t keep this to myself anymore,” she said, her face growing somber right before I clicked another picture.

I removed the camera to my face and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“My brother is Jack. You dated him recently,” she raised her eyebrows, almost apologetically.

I bit my lip and my heart dropped –oh no, she knows. She hates me, doesn’t she?

“Yeah,” I nodded, looking down at my hands. “I know,” I shrugged a little.

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Well, I’m sorry for his recent behavior,” she wrinkled her forehead.

I was astounded. Did he actually tell his sister the truth, that he was basically stalking me? That he called me a slag and my boyfriend punched him in the face?

“What did he tell you?” I put the camera down and sat next to her.

She frowned. “He told me that he really fell for you,” she shrugged. “But then you went back with your boyfriend and he went mad. He showed up at your apartment and your work, and he got into an argument with your boyfriend and got walloped,” she raised her brows.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I sighed.

“From what I heard, he deserved it,” she raised her brows again. “My brother gets very passionate and a little too intense sometimes,” she explained, shaking her head.

I slumped down, feeling bad all over again. “He’s a good guy. I really liked him. It was just bad timing,” I explained, frowning.

She nodded understandingly. “Heisa good guy. Very sensitive…the epitome of a tortured artist,” she teased a little.

I felt like crying. I bit my lip to hide the lump in my throat; she was right and it made me feel all the more guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love,” she put her hand on mine, realizing I was upset.

I shrugged, laughing a little bit to stop from crying. “It’s okay,” I shook my head.

She bit her lip as she smiled at me, eyeing me in a familiar way.

“I think I got some good pictures. Do you want to see?” I asked, changing the subject and scooting closer to her with the camera in my hand.

“Yes,” she said excitedly, peeking over my shoulder.

We went through the 15 or so portraits I took of her, all of them flawless, but I let her decide which one she wanted me to choose.

“I like the last one. I look intense,” she smiled at me.

“It would look good in black and white,” I raised my eyebrows.

“It would,” she agreed. “Can you e-mail me the copies?”

I nodded, looking down at her lips.They’re just like Jack’s.

“Today is my day off. Do you want to go have brunch?” she asked, standing up.

“Um,” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure,” I nodded excitedly.

“Great! There’s a place a few blocks from here that I really like,” she grabbed her purse.

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