The Roommate - Kiersten Modglin (elon musk reading list txt) 📗

Finally, it was I who would be ignoring her messages. She’d get a taste of her own medicine. I hit the button to decline the call, noticing that she’d already called two times. Realizing that must’ve been what I’d heard, that the phone’s vibrating must’ve caused it to fall from the bed, and I’d heard the resulting crash and vibrations from the next two calls left me feeling less on edge.

The tension dissipated from my shoulders, my heart returning to a semi-normal pace, although now, my newest stress was what Addy wanted.

As much as I wanted to be like her and ignore the call, as I made my way back into the bathroom, I realized that something could be wrong with Rory. I couldn’t spend the night wondering.

I unlocked the phone, spying a text message as it came in.

My breathing hitched as I read it.

What the—

The message contained just two simple words, but I had no idea why she’d directed them at me.

Fuck you.

Chapter Twenty-One

Addy was ignoring me once again as I dialed her number, listening to the rings and then her voicemail greeting. I’d texted her back, asking what was wrong, but there had been no reply.

Apparently, I’d done something.

Unquestionably, I had, but the question was what. And how did she know whatever it was she knew? Why wouldn’t she answer my calls?

I ran gel through my damp hair, rubbing my hands over the stubble on my chin. I needed to shave, but I just didn’t have the time. If Addy was mad at me, it meant Rory wasn’t hurt, so I was less on edge, but still, her anger was bothering me. I worried that she’d somehow found out about Stephanie and me, but I knew it was impossible.

Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I chose one of my two suits that remained hanging in the closet, reminding myself that I needed to pick up the third from the dry cleaners soon, and got myself dressed, my mind racing. I needed to get to the party, host the hell out of it, figure out what was going on with Addy, hope that I hadn’t made Elias too angry, and decide what to do about Stephanie.

Once I was dressed, I spritzed on cologne, checking myself out in the mirror one last time before shutting off the bathroom light and then my bedroom light on the way out the door. I checked my phone one last time, just to be sure Addy hadn’t called, but I knew she hadn’t.

I didn’t have time to deal with it. Addy had caused me enough heartache. If she was going to leave me, I had to be sure the one good thing left in my life—my career—was taken care of. After what I’d pulled off today, I’d already decided I was going to ask Stewart for a promotion. God knew I deserved it.

I made my way out of the apartment—triple checking that I’d locked the door—and down the stairs, surprised to find that Elias was still in the ballroom. He’d taken a seat at one of the tables, a half-eaten plate of food in front of him.

It was after eight, which meant that any moment now, people would start arriving. I needed to get him out of there. Even if Stewart wasn’t adamantly against having friends or family at work or work functions, Elias was embarrassing. I hated to think it so plainly, but I didn’t want him to start acting weird again and get me in trouble or humiliate me somehow.

I walked across the room, the temperature a few degrees cooler than I would’ve liked as a result of poor insulation and concrete walls, and he looked up when he heard my shoes clicking across the tile.

“Hey, bud. Did you get yourself something to eat?” I stared at the brown barbecue sauce stain on the white tablecloth under his plate. He saw me staring and smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I tried to clean it up, but it only made it worse.” He lifted the plate, revealing the smear was much worse than it had originally looked. The table he’d chosen was in the center of the room, meant to be the table where Layla sat.

I wrinkled my nose in frustration, trying to think. “It’s okay, I just need to swap it out quickly.” I pretended to be a lot less panicked than I felt. “Can you move your plate please?” He took too big of a bite from his brisket taco—so much for being a vegetarian—and stood up, holding his plate with one hand while he crunched loudly, getting crumbs everywhere.

I ignored him, my body trembling with anxiety as I whipped the tablecloth from the table and hurried across the room, trading it with a tablecloth from a table in the far back corner. I jogged back across the room, laying the cloth out flat.

“There we go.”

Elias went to sit down again, but I shouted, stopping him before he connected with the chair. “Wait!” In the distance, I heard the exterior door in the hall open, and warm voices flooded the floor. My guests had arrived and would be in here any moment, and I was staring at Elias, who had one cheek bulging with food, and his fingernails were stained with barbecue sauce. I tried not to sneer as I looked him over. “You should probably get going, right?” I gestured toward the door that led straight out to the street. “Do you need me to call you an Uber to get to Mac’s?”

He grinned playfully. “I can’t exactly take this food in an Uber, Wes.”

“Well, why don’t I try to wrangle you up a to-go box. I’m sure they have one here somewhere.”

“I’m almost finished,” he argued. “Just let me get done eating, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“The party is getting ready to start, the guests are starting to arrive. I can’t—”

“Wes!” Rodney called from the doorway. “Can you come help me carry this stuff