5. Chapter Five #2
She loved watching me with other women. Especially when she was the one being my hype-girl, a part of the action. But Yukiko was always one of the girls—never above them, the way the word Mommy suggested. Was she comfortable sliding into that role, even if just in the bedroom?
Kiki licked her lips. “We’ll see. Okay? No… no M-word right now. Maybe later.”
The pair shared a look. “Sure,” they said.
“Don’t worry, Kiki,” Heather giggled. “We’ll make sure you’re wet and horny before we get really filthy with it.”
“We’re such good girls,” Eva said proudly. “Just ask your husband!”
She glanced over at me, a question in her eyes.
“I’m fine with it if you are,” I said, chuckling into my coffee. “I tell you, they’ll come up with anything to stay in my good graces…”
Mona set down her mug.
“It’s almost time for us to head out,” she said, her businesslike tone snapping everyone back to the present moment. “Marcella?”
Marcie hadn’t expected to be called on. Her head whipped over. “Yeah?”
“Would you go upstairs with Yukiko and help her get into her blazer? I want to make sure the jewelry sits right under the collar.” She gave a rueful smile. “The hair and makeup people at Morning Harbor are insisting on it.”
Marcie was already getting out of her seat. “Totally. You ready, Kiki?”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
The two of them left together, Marcie’s arm hooked through Yukiko’s. I watched them go.
As soon as they’d left, Mona got out of her chair and sat down next to me.
Fool that I was, I thought that she wanted to scold me over distracting Kiki with the cheerleader thing this close to showtime. Or maybe a tiny part of me wondered if she had dreams of joining in. There was something growing between us, after all.
But it was neither of those things. Instead, Mona dropped her voice to a whisper.
“There is something I have to tell you,” she said. “In private.”
That sounded serious. I nodded. “We’ll be back in a second,” I told the girls.
Maria nodded. “You two,” she said, gesturing at the cheerleaders. “Help me with these dishes.”
In the hallway, Mona glanced over her shoulder to make sure we were out of earshot. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with Daniel,” she said.
No preamble. No mincing words.
I froze. “What do you mean?”
Mona crossed her arms under her breasts. “I’ve tried five times in the last two hours. His home phone, his personal cell, then Vanessa’s cell phone when he didn’t pick up. He’s not returning my texts. His office line is going straight to voicemail.”
Each revelation made me stomach sink a little further. “Maybe he’s sleeping in,” I ventured.
It was a lame excuse and we both knew it. Daniel Ramsey never slept in.
“Or they went on vacation,” I blurted, trying to make it make sense.
Mona didn’t dignify that with a response. “When is the last time you or Marcie spoke with Daniel?” she asked. “Or Vanessa?”
I wracked my brains. A memory resurfaced—Marcie in the kitchen yesterday, mentioning offhandedly that her Dad hadn’t returned her latest call. I’d filed it away as Daniel being Daniel—busy with business or planning his next strategy against the firm that stole his name.
What if it wasn’t? What if it was something far worse?
I couldn’t panic. Not yet. It could be something boring, I told myself. He’s out scanning office space for a new project. They’re helping Yukiko’s mom pack her stuff up—she’s going to be moving in with us any day now. It could be anything…
Something told me it wasn’t anything.
The answer to Mona’s question flashed in my mind. “Three days,” I said. “Wait, no, shit—four days. I was on a phone call with Daniel four days ago.” I grit my teeth. “How the hell could I not notice he was AWOL?”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Mona said. “The fault is more mine than yours. Another thing I should have been on top of.”
“You don’t need to blame yourself—”
“I sent someone.”
That caught me off-guard.
“I’ve got someone I trust driving up to Daniel and Vanessa’s house. They’ll be there within the next ninety minutes. If they’re there, he’ll find out why they haven’t been picking up their phones. If they’re completely gone—no cars, no lights—he’ll let me know that, too.”
Neither of us dared say the third possibility. That they could be missing with their cars still in the driveway and all the lights on. Plates still in the sink, dinner still on the table.
Like someone just broke in and took them.
“Jesus,” I said, shivering. No, I didn’t want to think about that. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because your wife is about to be on television,” Mona said simply. “She doesn’t need this hanging over her head. We’ll tell her after Morning Harbor. Not before.”
I started to argue. Then stopped, because she was right.
“And Marcie?”
Mona’s lips formed a tight little line. “I love that girl,” she said quietly. “But both of us know she wouldn’t be able to hide that. She wouldn’t tell Yukiko, but Kiki would take one look at her and know.”
I nodded. Unfortunately that was true, too.
If we told Marcie we couldn’t get ahold of her father or her mother, she wouldn’t be standing on the porch waving Yukiko goodbye and good luck fifteen minutes from now.
Mona’s scout wouldn’t matter. She’d be in the passenger seat of my McLaren, me breaking the speed limit on the way to her childhood home, her begging for me to go faster.
“As soon as Morning Harbor is over,” I said.
Mona nodded. “After.” Then she grimaced. “I’ll probably get word from my associate during the interview, actually.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Mona,” I said, my voice so low it was practically a growl. “Is this it?”
She blinked. She knew, but she didn’t want to say it. “Is this what?”
“The thing Jessamyn was talking about. The thing Victoria has on Daniel.”
I’d never seen Mona look so pale.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “And I do not like that I don’t know.”
I didn’t, either.
“She’s ready!” Marcie’s voice carried from the stairs. “Everybody come check Yukiko out!”
We all piled out into the foyer. Yukiko made her way down the steps a little shakily—with a start, I realized this was the first time she’d had an opportunity to wear high heels since our honeymoon.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and did a little fashion-model twirl, basking in the oohs and ahhs of the other girls.
“Ready to take on the world,” Yukiko said with a smile. “Mom texted me while I was up there. Wished me good luck.”
Only I noticed the unease on Marcie’s face. Was she noticing how long it had been since her mother had texted her?
As soon as the interview’s over, I promised silently. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out. Together.
Mona came out of the kitchen, her thermos freshly refilled from the fancy espresso machine Maria insisted on buying us when we first moved in. She had a briefcase in her other hand and her laptop tucked under her arm, along with her cell phone under her chin like she’d just finished a call.
“Looking great,” she told Yukiko. “Are we ready to go?”
The three of us climbed into Mona’s BMW: her driving, Kiki in the passenger seat with the window down to say goodbye, me in the back. The rest of the harem gathered on the front porch to wave us goodbye, Samantha and Marcie right up front in their pajamas.
“Knock ‘em dead, Kiki!” Samantha called, cupping her hands around her mouth.
“You’re gonna do great!” Marcie added, raising her voice.
“Hey, don’t blink too much, mami!” Maria grinned the way only a very well-satisfied woman can grin. “The cameras pick up on that shit!”
Yukiko laughed, one hand on her belly. “No promises!”
As we pulled away from the curb, I cast one look back at the crew. The harem. The family.
Samantha smiling. Marcie waving.
Neither of them knew.
And neither did my princess.
No sooner had we left the neighborhood than Yukiko gestured for me to lean forward. When I did, putting my body between the seats, she took my hand and squeezed it, hard.
“I am so freaking nervous,” she whispered. “My heart is pounding.”
“I know, Princess,” I told her.
“What if I—?”
“You won’t,” I said, stroking the side of her face. “You’ve got this.”
I glanced into the rearview mirror. Mona’s eyes met mine.
I saw the anxiety in them.
Yukiko was worried about this interview.
We were worried about Daniel Ramsey.