Impulsive by Helenkay Dimon

pointed at what appeared to be the highlight of the room from Eric’s perspective—a huge flat screen television. The dining room off to the left side consisted of a large table with about a hundred stacks of documents piled on top. Boxes littered the floor. Papers were scattered everywhere.
    So much for the neat freak stereotype.
    A plate and a coffee mug sat on the kitchen counter, along with a jar of peanut butter. Clearly he was not a gourmet cook, but she’d check out the refrigerator to confirm that later. First, she wanted to see the bedroom. Something told her the bed would be unmade. For some reason that lightened some of the fiery anger she’d been fighting off all afternoon.
    She got a third of the way up the staircase when the front door opened. She almost called out, using a less than flattering greeting, but the sound of high heels clicking against the marble entry floor stopped her. So did the quick peek she caught of her visitor. She’d know the woman with the long black hair and high cheekbones anywhere.
    Deana Armstrong Windsor.
    From her white silk pants to her sleeveless high-necked navy sweater, the woman oozed wealth. Gold bangles clicked together on her wrist, and she carried a purse that probably cost more than Katie’s car. Confidence floated around her, appearing in perfect posture and a trim figure.
    Deana was exactly as Katie remembered from the wedding. Put together and beautiful in a way that came naturally rather than from hours in front of a mirror.
    Katie hated her on sight.
    â€œEric? Are you home?” Deana walked in and dropped her purse on the dining room table.
    No question whether she knew her way around the place. Since she was here, Katie assumed her name was on the approved guest list, too.
    Strike two .
    Katie thought about tackling the other woman and pulling that wavy hair. See if it would be all shiny then. But Eric picked that exact moment to walk in behind Deana and the rage bubbling in Katie’s stomach found a new target.
    He stopped when he saw his secret girlfriend standing there. The married secret one. “How did you get in?”
    Deana shrugged her lean shoulders. “The door was open.”
    â€œNot possible.” Eric glanced around the ground floor.
    When he looked in her direction, Katie ducked behind the first landing. She didn’t think he could see her, but she didn’t think he’d give two women keys to his condo either, so what the hell did she know.
    â€œI knocked and it opened,” Deana said.
    The conversation finally penetrated her brain. Didn’t sound like they’d came in together. Katie couldn’t understand how that was possible since they’d walked in a few minutes apart. She searched her memory for a knock. She remembered hitting the fourth or fifth step and hearing the door open, but that was about it.
    Eric spun around in circle, his stare moving all over the room. “I locked up when I left this morning, which feels like two days ago at this point.”
    â€œI don’t know what to tell you. Honestly, it wasn’t closed tight,” Deana said.
    Katie thought about jumping out. It would be better to announce her presence than have Eric call the police and drag her out. If her feelings weren’t all jumbled up inside, she would have ended this scene already. But she had no idea what was going on or what Deana being there meant.
    From the way his forehead wrinkled and his mouth turned down, Eric appeared as confused as Katie felt. Despite that, she wasn’t willing to let him off the hook. Not yet. Not when he’d messed up so many times during the last twelve hours.
    So, she sat down on the step and eavesdropped. She dared him to get mad at her over that.
    Â 
    Eric blinked a few times. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Deana…in his house. He’d dreamed about that for months after Deana broke it off. At times he concluded the fantasy by kicking