Ansley paced back and forth in her living room.
The doorman called to let her know that Davis was downstairs. She didn’t want to see him, but she did want answers.
She wanted to know why he did this, and Ansley planned to get her answers but not without having a little fun catching him in the act first. She instructed the doorman to make up an excuse for not letting him in right away. Ansley wanted Davis to think that she was not home, to see if he would attempt to get upstairs and use the key again.
Ansley was hurt, but she forced that particular emotion to the back of her mind and focused instead on her anger. Fury fueled her now. She eyed the large candlestick holder on her sofa table. If Davis tried anything, she had no problem using it on him—she was that angry.
Her telephone rang.
It was Simeon. Ansley silenced the ringer, she didn’t want her phone to be going off with Davis coming up within minutes. Her friend knew her well enough to know when she was upset. Answering the phone would have led to a long drawn out conversation and Ansley unloading all that had occurred this morning. She wasn’t ready for anyone to know what a fool she had been.