Chapter Thirty-Nine
“I’m sure you’re trying to get to the bottom of Eden’s disappearance, but you can’t afford to alienate yourself from them now,” Nat told her when Isla called her right after hightailing it to her room.
She was beyond embarrassed and thinking about the judgmental eyes and gossip that would run rampant throughout the estate.
“Like a disease,” she said, voicing her thoughts.
“What?” Nat asked. “What disease?”
Isla shook her head, though Nat couldn’t see. “Nothing.” Isla sighed. “So what do I do now? I’ve lost all face with him. Back to square one. I wouldn’t be surprised if Victor was sending his people down to kick me out.”
“Doubt it,” Nat said. “I’ve never met the man, but it seems like he likes you.
I mean, he didn’t let a complete stranger into his home for no reason.
He may be mad now, but he’ll calm down, and then you can give him a reason to trust you again.
Say it’s part of your research and you can’t know him without knowing about Eden—Edie—you know who I mean.
Are you ready to tell him the real truth about your connection to Eden? ”
“If I do that now, they’ll think I’m nothing but an opportunist trying to get a payday.
I need to first find out what happened to her, and then I can lay it all out for him.
Victor is someone who needs cold, hard facts.
This award ceremony will come up faster than I’m making headway.
I need to push harder on the person I know can give me something I can use. ”
“And that would be?”
“James, the guy Eden was into before she left.”
“Good. Do that. And go back up to the house. Swallow your pride. Go to Victor first.”
The last thing Isla wanted to do was go back to the house and face them.
“One thing . . . Charli.” Nat trailed off like she didn’t want to continue.
Isla groaned. Charli wasn’t a person to be ignored, but she was such a wild card that Isla was hesitant to reach out and get on Charli’s radar, not when she was closer than she’d ever been to learning what had happened to Eden.
Isla’s fingers tapped her lips nervously. “What about her? Tell her I’ll be back soon and it’s hard to reach me.”
“Isla, she’s not an idiot. You haven’t left for longer than two weeks since I’ve known you.
Now you’ve been gone a lot longer, with no word where you went.
She swears you’re on some big moneymaking gig and are trying to cut her out of it.
You might need to call her to calm her down, because I don’t need her coming to my job or my home or Rey’s café causing trouble. You know how spiteful she can be.”
“She’s just in between boyfriends and has too much time on her hands is all. She’ll find one soon at the casinos or wherever and be out of your hair.”
Nat grumbled. “Well, just call her, okay? Tell her whatever you need to to get her off my back.”
The kitchen was bustling when Isla returned to the main house.
All talk died down when they realized she was there, and she had several pairs of eyes on her in various states of emotion, from curiosity to irritation to awe to disappointment.
The disappointment was from Mae, the one person Isla didn’t want to be on the outs with. She went immediately to her.
“I just want to apologize again, Mae.” Isla watched all the hands preparing the family’s meal so she wouldn’t have to look at the people. “I hope you didn’t get in trouble because of me. You’ve been good to me.”
She finally looked up to see Mae watching her curiously. “What did you think you were going to get from it?”
“A little bit more of the truth,” Isla replied.
Mae shook her head. “Sometimes the truth can be worse.”
They were interrupted by approaching heels clicking on the floor. The kitchen quieted down as Brooke entered the room.
“Still here?” Brooke asked, gleefully surprised. “Upstairs was quite something, hmm? I’m sorry for Victor’s behavior. He can be very emotional when it comes to Edie’s belongings. You couldn’t have known how serious it would be, even if the door was locked.”
She just couldn’t help slipping one in.
Isla tried to concentrate on what everyone else was doing in the kitchen. She wanted to be of help somewhere so she wouldn’t have to be currently engaging with Brooke.
“We’re too close to the award to find another person to write a spread on him, not that he’d agree to it, so I’d say you need to make amends, Isla dear,” Brooke suggested.
She looked around the room for anything that could serve as a peace offering.
And while she moved, the others quickly scurried out of her path.
“You know, he’s been having a rough week. Today especially, and nothing calms him down better than one of his favorite drinks, hmm?” She gave Isla a conspiratorial smile. “Why don’t you bring him a drink? It’ll show you’re trying to make amends and start the conversation going again.”
Isla caught Mae’s eye and saw caution there, which reflected her own feeling. Why would Brooke all of a sudden help her now? Brooke had wanted her out from the beginning. Finally, Mae nodded that Brooke was right.
“He probably doesn’t want to see me right now,” Isla said.
“Nonsense,” Brooke interrupted. “Follow me.”
Isla hesitated until Mae nodded encouragingly.
The worst part was over. This could help salve open wounds.
Brooke clicked into a side sitting room, and Isla cautiously followed.
Brooke went to the wet bar there, where an array of decanters of brown liquids of various shades, along with clear ones, were displayed.
She looked over the assortment, picking up this bottle and that, setting them back down where they were, or close enough.
When she was done checking the options, she addressed Isla.
“He loves a classic scotch. Just a splash of something sweet and aromatic, a little smoky. You should find everything you need here. I’d do it myself, but you’re the one in the hot seat right now, and you need a win so I can have my peace and award night can be a success.
I can’t have an unsuccessful event, you understand.
” Her bloodred lips stretched into a wide smile.
Isla tried to figure out her angle. The suggestion felt innocent enough, and the reason made total sense.
At this point, with weeks left to go, Brooke needed Isla to stay around and finish what she’d started.
So it wasn’t that Brooke was trying to help her out.
It was that Brooke was trying to help herself out.
She studied the bottles neatly arranged at the bar. Among them was a small bottle that she picked up and sniffed. Almond liqueur—unlabeled but distinctly shaped and placed next to common mixers like honey, simple syrup, grenadine, and some bitters.
Isla looked around, thinking. Brooke had said sweet, aromatic, and smoky. The only thing close to smoky was the almond liqueur. Going with that, she added a small splash of it to Victor’s scotch.
She passed the kitchen like a prisoner heading for lockup.
They had perfected the art of busying themselves while also being very watchful.
Mae and Brooke trailed behind—for moral support, Brooke said.
Victor was in his study, in his chair, looking less aggrieved.
And there was a woman with them. They introduced the statuesque beauty as Claudia, a family friend.
She and Bennett were seated and chatting with him.
Dixon was nearby, as usual, watching but saying little.
“Forget about Myles. I’m right here,” Bennett was saying to Claudia. “We can go out. Have a good time. I’m a lot more fun.”
Claudia laughed, and it immediately annoyed Isla. Even the woman’s laugh sounded wealthy and pretentious. Which brother was Claudia there for? Because she clearly had an agenda and was going fishing in the Corrigan pool.
Their conversation stopped with Isla’s tepid knock on the door. She stepped in, feeling like the most out-of-place person. Victor looked at her warily.
“I come with a peace offering,” Isla said, producing the drink. He had his own bar in his study and could have made a drink if he’d wanted. Yet here she was, giving him something he hadn’t asked for. Too late now.
She said, “I heard your favorite drink to relax is scotch with something a little sweet.” His brow wrinkled in confusion but cleared when she continued.
“So I fixed you a glass. I hope you know how sorry I am for upsetting you, and I hope it doesn’t mess up the good thing we got going.
” She grinned, hoping he’d found his humor again.
He considered her, first appearing as if she wouldn’t get another inch with him. He gradually began to relax, easing back into his seat. The fire in his eyes extinguishing, he gestured that she could give him the drink.
She watched apprehensively as Victor took a sip of the drink she’d prepared, since she didn’t know how well it had turned out. His brow furrowed as he licked his lips, trying to place the extra touch she’d put in. He cleared his throat.
“Is it too strong? Should I have put in more of the sweet?” she asked, unsure of her bartending skills. She should have used simple syrup.
His clearing of his throat became louder. He loosened his tie knot, setting the glass down hard on the desk, making Isla jump. It splashed its contents on the desk.
“What—what—” He couldn’t finish. His breathing became labored, and his face flushed a deeper shade. He grabbed at his throat, looking frantically at Dixon. “Can’t. Breathe.” He slumped in his chair.