something.â Ivy rolled her eyes.
Amanda smiled. And then with a few more complements about Tommy and good-byes, Olivia and Ivy were gone.
Amanda waited a moment for them to make their way downstairs, then looked out the window. A man stood under the awning of the building across the street, his hands shoved inside his pockets. Amanda couldnât see him clearly in the dim lighting, but he seemed to be looking up in her direction.
Amanda gasped and stepped back. Was she truly being watched? Already?
She stood on the side of the window and glanced out again, careful to stay hidden. She saw Ivy get into her squad car, parked right in front of her building, and she saw Olivia get into the back seat of a black sedan that was waiting for her.
The man across the street still stood there.
Amanda squinted to see him, but his face was hidden in shadow. He was tall and well built but she couldnât judge his age. He wore a hat so she couldnât see the color of his hair.
He could be anyone , Amanda told herself. Donât let this crazy letter make you paranoid.
Amanda peered outside again. The man was gone.
Well, well , Ethan thought, watching the glamour-puss and the cop exit Amandaâs dumpy apartment building. They were chatting like old pals, like sisters, thick as thieves.
He wondered if that were a fitting cliché. Were the Sedgwick sisters bursting with resentment over the way theyâd been treated by their father? Had they been waiting for the day Daddy Dearest would keel over so they could get their hands on his millions?
Or were they grieving the loss of the father theyâd never really known? A man whoâd spent only a handful of weeks with them since they were born.
Ethan had done his research. Heâd taken everything heâd read online about William Sedgwick and his family with a grain of salt. First of all, there wasnât much. Second of all, it was mostly gossip rag filler. Apparently, William preferred a new girlfriend every few months to any type of long-term relationship, including those with his children. Ethan couldnât quite reconcile that with the man heâd met in the middle of the night three years ago, a man whose affirmation for life, for people, for family, had saved Ethanâs life.
He glanced up at Amandaâs window just as the curtain parted. She stood there in the soft glow of a lamp. He couldnât make out her features; he was too far away and dusk had fallen, but again he was struck by the sight of her.
You wonât be living here for long , he thought as he turned and headed for his car, which heâd parked a couple of blocks away. Soon, youâll be trading this dump for a luxury brownstone.
He was surprised that she lived so humbly. It wasnât that the neighborhood was bad or dangerous; it was perfectly fine, perfectly nice. But it wasnât Manhattan. It wasnât hot or hip or anything remotely superficial, which was what heâd expected.
As if he knew what to expect of Amanda Sedgwick. There was very little written about her. A simple online search had brought a wealth of unimportant information on the magazine editor and the cop because of their work, but Amanda Sedgwick warranted only a handful of Google referencesâall recent ones in which her name appeared in connection with obituaries or gossip about the inheritances.
I know nothing about you, and I donât want to know anything about you, he thought, glancing up again at her slight figure in the window. I just want you to slip up fast at the brownstone so I can get the hell out of this city, get the hell away from the memories, the images. Get the hell away from the truth.
He saw Amanda dart away from the window. She must have noticed him standing there, watching her.
Itâs only the beginning, honey.
CHAPTER 6
The next day, as Amanda was cooking dinner for herself and Tommy, who sat munching his appetizer of Cheerios in his high chair, there
Amanda smiled. And then with a few more complements about Tommy and good-byes, Olivia and Ivy were gone.
Amanda waited a moment for them to make their way downstairs, then looked out the window. A man stood under the awning of the building across the street, his hands shoved inside his pockets. Amanda couldnât see him clearly in the dim lighting, but he seemed to be looking up in her direction.
Amanda gasped and stepped back. Was she truly being watched? Already?
She stood on the side of the window and glanced out again, careful to stay hidden. She saw Ivy get into her squad car, parked right in front of her building, and she saw Olivia get into the back seat of a black sedan that was waiting for her.
The man across the street still stood there.
Amanda squinted to see him, but his face was hidden in shadow. He was tall and well built but she couldnât judge his age. He wore a hat so she couldnât see the color of his hair.
He could be anyone , Amanda told herself. Donât let this crazy letter make you paranoid.
Amanda peered outside again. The man was gone.
Well, well , Ethan thought, watching the glamour-puss and the cop exit Amandaâs dumpy apartment building. They were chatting like old pals, like sisters, thick as thieves.
He wondered if that were a fitting cliché. Were the Sedgwick sisters bursting with resentment over the way theyâd been treated by their father? Had they been waiting for the day Daddy Dearest would keel over so they could get their hands on his millions?
Or were they grieving the loss of the father theyâd never really known? A man whoâd spent only a handful of weeks with them since they were born.
Ethan had done his research. Heâd taken everything heâd read online about William Sedgwick and his family with a grain of salt. First of all, there wasnât much. Second of all, it was mostly gossip rag filler. Apparently, William preferred a new girlfriend every few months to any type of long-term relationship, including those with his children. Ethan couldnât quite reconcile that with the man heâd met in the middle of the night three years ago, a man whose affirmation for life, for people, for family, had saved Ethanâs life.
He glanced up at Amandaâs window just as the curtain parted. She stood there in the soft glow of a lamp. He couldnât make out her features; he was too far away and dusk had fallen, but again he was struck by the sight of her.
You wonât be living here for long , he thought as he turned and headed for his car, which heâd parked a couple of blocks away. Soon, youâll be trading this dump for a luxury brownstone.
He was surprised that she lived so humbly. It wasnât that the neighborhood was bad or dangerous; it was perfectly fine, perfectly nice. But it wasnât Manhattan. It wasnât hot or hip or anything remotely superficial, which was what heâd expected.
As if he knew what to expect of Amanda Sedgwick. There was very little written about her. A simple online search had brought a wealth of unimportant information on the magazine editor and the cop because of their work, but Amanda Sedgwick warranted only a handful of Google referencesâall recent ones in which her name appeared in connection with obituaries or gossip about the inheritances.
I know nothing about you, and I donât want to know anything about you, he thought, glancing up again at her slight figure in the window. I just want you to slip up fast at the brownstone so I can get the hell out of this city, get the hell away from the memories, the images. Get the hell away from the truth.
He saw Amanda dart away from the window. She must have noticed him standing there, watching her.
Itâs only the beginning, honey.
CHAPTER 6
The next day, as Amanda was cooking dinner for herself and Tommy, who sat munching his appetizer of Cheerios in his high chair, there
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