I had the steaks marinating in garlic and olive oil. The Shiraz was cool, not cold, just right. Two glasses stood ready, but Andrea still wasn’t home from grocery shopping. I looked at the clock. She should have been home by now.
To hell with it. I’ll have a glass of wine while I wait for her. I’d have to admit I was out of line about the pants. I know it had to have been Robert. A shudder ran over my shoulders. When did he do it? How did he get in?
Jesus, what if he had a key? He would be able to let himself in here any time he wanted. Holy shit! He could be in the house right now. I searched the place and then called the first locksmith I found in the yellow pages. Told him I’d pay extra but he had to come over and change those locks right now.
Dinner would be late. That was all right. Andrea wasn’t home yet anyway.
Five o’clock. So where was she? I should have insisted she get a cell phone. Stupid of me not to take care of that.
She’d said something about looking for a pair of shoes before she got the groceries, so maybe that took longer than she expected.
I refilled my glass and set it on the coffee table. Somehow I didn’t feel like drinking it now without Andrea. God, I’d yelled at her about the pants. I must have sounded just like Robert. And I wasn’t very understanding about how buying the car might make her feel. I was so lucky to have her and if I didn’t watch it I was going to blow it. She could have any guy she wanted. Best thing that ever happened to me was to find her. I’d had girlfriends before, but never someone so real. Someone so genuine. She never put on false airs, pretending to be something she’s not. What you see is what you get. My kind of girl.
And that comment about her being my maid and gardener and a prostitute. Shit! I must have been blind not to realize how she felt. No money of her own and really down on her luck, she must have thought she had no options and I was taking advantage of her. Man, I had some serious repair work to do to make it up to her.
The locksmith arrived. He had all the new assemblies ready to go. The pick-proof kind this time. Didn’t take him all that long. Six-thirty already. What the hell was keeping Andrea? I phoned Giselle.
“Is Andrea over there with you?”
“No. Isn’t she home?” A chill crept over me. “Jim? What’s going on?” Giselle sounded worried.
“She’s not back from grocery shopping. She was going to get a pair of shoes too, but still, it shouldn’t take her this long.”