Page 77 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?

But I really should talk to him, not let so much time pass between phone calls, remembering my plan, my strategy.

Make him fall for me.

"Are you around late tonight?" I wrote. "I can talk when I'm done with work."

It was a Friday night so he probably had plans. Maybe with another woman, maybe even with someone I hated, one of my old bullies. Wouldn't that be ironic?

"Call me any time. Three in the morning. I don't care. I'll pick up for you."

Okay, so maybe no plans then. Why did that make me happy?

The next model showed up, and the rest of the day and well into the night was spent in a whirlwind of craziness. Working on pure adrenaline, I kept up the pace, Katie running next door to grab us food and always making sure I stayed hydrated. She was big on that for some reason.

I made a mental note to give her an even bigger bonus for helping me through all of this. Plus a nice long vacation.

So by the time I arrived home, changed, and made myself comfortable, it was nearly midnight. Not quite the three in the morning Tristan had referred to, but still very late to call someone.

He'd said to call him, though, and quite frankly, I was a little bored and restless, the remnants of all that adrenaline still coursing through my body, leaving me keyed up and fidgety.

So why not?

Sitting on my bed, fluffy socks on, I leaned back and took a breath. And then I dialed.

He picked up immediately. "Hey, Rina."

I laughed. "Not Rina."

"Damn. Oh, well, I'll get it someday."

"You can try," I teased.

There was a chirping noise, coming from his end, that sounded like a smoke alarm with a dying battery.

"Ugh," Tristan groaned. "Did you hear that?"

"I did. What's going on?"

"It's my carbon monoxide monitor that I'm about ready to smash to pieces with a hammer."

Something Ethan had texted me earlier today popped into my head, that I'd hear his latest masterpiece the next time I talked to Tristan, urging me to call him soon.

Was this it?

"Did you change the battery?" I asked.

"Thereisno battery," he growled.

"No battery? Then why is it chirping?"

"The hell if I know. I had to get out a tall ladder to even get up there, only to twist the damn thing off, and guess what? No battery compartment. It's hardwired."

CHIRP

I stifled a laugh. "Maybe it's malfunctioning?"

"That's what I thought too. So I cut power to it at the breaker. Still chirping. And then I called building maintenance. They have no idea either and told me it'd have to wait until morning."

This had to be Ethan's handiwork. This kind of annoyance had his name written all over it. "Have you tried—"