Chapter 24 #3
“So, me?” I study her through narrowed eyes. “Can you feel me even without touching me?”
“Sometimes, when the emotion is big. You block me out sometimes.”
“I… what?”
“You’re extremely skilled at it, actually. But weeks like the one we just had?” She shakes her head. “You’d lost control, so I felt it all.” She glances toward Ellie. “You completely lack the ability to block me, and your baby is even louder than you.”
“Really?” She caresses her belly, smiling a shaky, watery smile. “Is it complaining? Is that what you mean by loud? If so, then I think I just guessed its sex.” She wrinkles her nose. “Troy complains a lot, too, and he’s very loud. Am I having a boy?”
Humored, Aubree inches forward, extending her hand and the folded receipt. “I’m neither confirming nor denying. But the answer is right here. Read it whenever you want.”
“Gah!” Ellie snatches the scrap paper and clutches it lovingly to her chest. “The answer is so close.”
“I have men waiting at JFK for the Malone plane,” Soph continues, like hosting two entirely different conversations at once is totally normal.
“Figured they’re not gonna sit by and wait for the pretty little wife to toddle on home, and having them do their own thing might be worse than simply folding them in.
One head, one brain, means no one steps on toes or screws things up. ”
“Archer’s not coping.” I draw a deep breath, expanding my chest until I taste the plane air all the way down my throat, then I exhale again and scratch the back of my neck.
My instincts are firing, and my stomach, unlike Ellie’s, tingles with intuition.
Not motion sickness. “This week has been hard for us. It hurt. We literally only came back together yesterday, and an hour after that, Cordoza was on the phone. His timing is either impeccable or insanely cruel.”
“Probably a bit of both,” Ellie sighs. “He’s always been good to me, but his ability to maintain control for as long as he has shouldn’t be ignored.”
“So… be afraid,” I counter. “Smart, sensible, and afraid.”
“Smart and sensible should get us where we need to go.” She glances up as the air hostess unbuckles her seatbelt and wraps her hands around the glittering handle of a well-stocked drinks cart.
She kicks the wheel locks and frees it from its immobile state.
“Her job is to serve us,” Ellie murmurs.
“But it’s also to report back to Estefan all the things we say.
So zip it.” She broadens her smile and un-hunches her long dancer’s body. “Hi.”
“Ms. Mancino.” The woman stops just two feet from the coffee table, hitting the locks once more and casting pretty, green eyes over each of us. “Ms. Solomon. Doctors Emeri and Mayet. Can I offer anyone a beverage?”
“I’d like a Pepsi, please.” But I don’t wait for her to serve me. I lunge toward the tray and steal a can from the second shelf like the uncultured swine I am. Sitting back again, I grin and crack the can open. “What’s your name?”
“Mine?” Her cheeks burn with a bright pink blush. “Mariana, Chief. I’m here to make your flight as comfortable as possible. If there’s anything you need, you have only to ask—”
“Perhaps you could tell us Mr. Cordoza’s intentions with this impromptu visit across twelve state lines?” I cross my legs and fist the icy cold soda. “Please.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Ellie grumbles. “Sensible, smart, and subtle.”
“I-I’m sorry, Chief. I don’t know the specific details of Mr. Cordoza’s meetings. But if there’s anything I can help you with during this flight—”
“I’m good.” She’s useless, so I wave her off and turn to Soph.
It’s rude, I know, and callous as far as dismissals go.
But we have shit to discuss, and that shit needs to be addressed in such a way that it can’t easily make its way back to Cordoza.
“Perhaps we could circle back and consider alternative corridors of exit in the event our associates’ position may change?
I suggest leveraging our collective competencies and maximizing cross-functional alignment.
” I flash a wide, almost crazy smile. “I believe it is prudent we remain proactive to the current situation, and to do so, propose drawing up a blueprint that ensures agility and adaptability.”
Aubree snorts, grinning in my peripherals. “Smooth.”
“I’d like a round-table discussion on the matter, taking a deep dive and unpacking potential pivots so we,” I hook a thumb toward Aubree, then Ellie, “the stakeholders, remain in the loop and consistently moving toward a value-added outcome.”
“I-I’ll just go,” Mariana stammers, setting an array of sodas on the coffee table with shaking hands. “Dinner will be served in approximately thirty minutes.”
Turning on her heels, she puts her weight behind the trolley and scampers away.
“Hey, Corporate Barbie?” Soph snags a red fizzy drink and cracks the seal. “You back to normal yet?”
“I don’t see why we had to use his plane, for starters.
” My nose twitches as unease flutters in my stomach.
This doesn’t feel good. None of it does.
“His plane means he can hear everything we say, it allows him to have his staff standing over our shoulders, and when we arrive, it gives him full control over where we land and who we interact with. If we’d flown with Felix, at least we could have an open conversation. ”
“We can talk freely now,” Soph rumbles. “Assuming the chick is far enough away that she can’t hear us.
I’ve got scramblers already active, so even if this plane is wired up, all Cordoza will hear is static.
We have five and a bit hours to figure this out, then it’s game time.
” She brings glittering, taunting eyes across to Aubree.
“Can’t you just use your foo-foo and tell us what happens?
Save me the effort of thinking with my brain. ”
“You still lack respect, I see.” Aubree rolls her eyes. “Probably why candy is no longer a part of your diet.”
Soph’s jaw clenches. Releases. Her hands ball and her nose twitches.
Jesus. Just like mine when I’m pissed off.
“I propose a future round-table discussion and deep dive into the matter, Doctor Emeri. Knowing whose scope I’m in is, I feel, a prudent and time-sensitive subject.
I request our return flight be allocated to the topic. ”
“I mean, I could…” Aubree reclines in her seat and crosses one leg over the other, bouncing her foot to a beat only she can hear. “However, it appears you’re yet to learn your lesson. Your failure to try is your failure to live.” She shrugs. “That’s on you.”
“Wait.” I swing my gaze along the jet’s interior and stop at Mariana’s too rigid, too intense stance. “Why is dinner being served? It’s barely lunchtime, and we’re scheduled to eat with Estefan.”
The cockpit door opens, allowing me a momentary view of two pilots and a shit-ton of buttons on a console. Then Estefan himself slowly shuffles out, his hand wrapped around a cane and his cheeks drooping more than usual. Paler, though not by much.
Adrenaline zings through my blood as I bound to my feet and step in front of the rest, the backs of my knees touching the table and my hands balled into intolerant fists.
“Another lie, Estefan?” I try, I swear I do, not to let my big mouth get us killed.
But, “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else.
Not after the bullshit you pulled this week. ”
“Chief M—”
“You were wrong for what you did to me and Archer. Your lies caused damage, and now they’ve severed what could’ve been a positive, respectful association between your family and mine.”
The old man comes to a stop a full ten feet from where I stand, one hand on his cane and the other pressed to the wall. He looks me up and down with a slow sweep of his eyes, curious, when I would expect anger. Weary, when The Godfather would’ve already opened fire.
“Oh, no.” Aubree’s chin wobbles as she comes to stand on my left. “Estefan…”
His eyes twinkle—adoration, humor, and Jesus, a hell of a lot of exhaustion, too—and when Soph stops on my right, secrets and playfulness join the others in his gaze.
Bringing one hand up, he taps the side of his nose. “Don’t spoil the ending, Doctor Emeri.”