Chapter 17
Sky
Two days ago, while ice skating with Kjell, I forgot to be careful. Since I realized that, I've been going through our time in Hellasg?rden over and over in my mind. Always searching for mistakes.
Did I reveal too much?
I forcefully ignore the looks he threw at me in my memory, just as I push aside the tingling sensation his presence triggered in me. Only what I entrusted to him matters.
He knows I used to be at Touch av lyx constantly as a child. Could he deduce who I am from that?
No. He didn't ask where my connection to the company came from. Maybe that thought never even crossed his mind?
On the other hand, he's seen me twice in the hospital already. And even though neither Kahlo nor the seamstress in Milan mentioned my given name, he could at least have guessed it. Couldn’t he?
Oh boy.
"It wasn't much, and he has no reason to dig deeper." I try to calm myself as I glide into Father's executive chair.
Perhaps just to avoid letting another thought rise. One that's even scarier than the worry that he might find out who I am.
Opening up to him, spending time with him, being close to him. It all felt so good. So good, as if I were about to...
Stop. I'm not.
I quickly turn my attention to the computer that the IT department unlocked this morning. All day, I've been studying both Father's and Stig's emails and trying to get up to speed on the current issues.
Price negotiations with a French fabric supplier. Job postings for two new accountants. Quarterly financial reports.
As hard as I tried, my thoughts never stayed on business for long. They kept drifting back to Kjell, as if drawn there on their own.
"Just a small, insignificant glimpse into my childhood. Nothing about my parents, almost nothing about Touch av lyx , nothing about my mistake," I remind myself.
It's not that bad.
Everything is fine.
And besides, the outing, despite its abrupt ending, worked wonders. Because yesterday, I suddenly figured out how to change Kahlo's mind. I spent the entire Sunday refining the plan, and today, on my first day at the headquarters, I'm ready to put it into action.
My gaze flickers to the antique grandfather clock adorning Father's massive desk. It's just past five in the afternoon. Kahlo should have arrived by now.
What if he's ignoring the appointment? What if even this is a power play for him, a way of showing me that he won't be bossed around by me?
With a nervous gesture, I turn on the desk lamp. In early November, the sun often hides behind thick clouds all day. Even though it hasn't set yet, darkness already creeps into the office.
I let my gaze wander absentmindedly. It's so empty in this office. It was that way in my childhood, and even then, that emptiness felt oppressive. But today, it's much worse.
It's loneliness. It's Father's coma. It's my failure. And it's my fear.
"Here I am. What do you want?"
As if out of nowhere, Kahlo stands before me. When did he enter the room? And what does he have clamped under his arm? A newspaper?
Doesn't matter. I attempt a professional smile, rise from my seat, and gesture for him to sit at the conference table with me. "Thank you for coming."
He theatrically checks his wristwatch, then lets out a feigned sigh. At least he takes a seat. He places his item on the chair beside him so I can't see it.
"We have a lot to discuss," I say firmly because Father wouldn't approve of me showing vulnerability to Kahlo.
Unlike Kjell. But you do, he said to me yesterday when I opened up to him and shared my deepest desire. The longing to shine.
It would be great to be as honest with Kahlo as I was with Kjell yesterday. But if I show weakness in front of him, he'll use it against me.
"Are we going to get anywhere today?"
I catch Kahlo's exasperated gaze. "We need to put the past behind us," I say firmly, as my plan dictates. I forbid my fingers from nervously fidgeting together and strive to control my body language as Father taught me.
The chief designer's response is a disdainful grunt.
"This is not about you or me. Feelings have no place here." I wait anxiously to see if he'll interrupt me. He doesn't. Is that good or bad? "Let's start fresh." I extend my hand to him. "For Touch av lyx . We would both do anything for this label. That's the truth, isn't it?"
Now he raises an eyebrow. "For Touch av lyx ?" he asks in such a menacing tone that my stomach churns. "You couldn't care less about the company."
"What? No!" That was too emotional, dammit.
Before I can deny it more calmly, Kahlo slams his item onto the table. It's the Aftonbladeti , Sweden's largest gossip newspaper.
"And how do you explain this, then?" He heatedly points his finger at the front page.
Is that me in the picture?
I pull the newspaper toward me and unfold it to see the entire front page.
Oh crap.
That's really me! Ice-skating with Kjell.
"How...? Why...?" I stammer, unable to form a complete sentence. I feel my control slipping away.
Kahlo's mocking laughter makes the situation even worse. "Gustav will have a heart attack when he wakes up."
That's true. Father's disappointment will be boundless. He'll see this article and think I've broken my promise.
And in a way, I have.
After all these years of being away, I felt safe. Only in the hospital did I make sure not to be recognized. Even in Stockholm, I could never have moved around freely.
I want to read the article, but the letters blur in front of my eyes. I can only make out the headline.
Skady Blohm—the missing daughter is back!
This can't be true.
"I won't say it again, Sky. You have no business being here. Go back to wherever you've been for the past six years," he says with a dangerous undertone. "We don't need you here, as the events in Milan clearly showed."
"But Stig asked me to help," I reply because I can't give up so easily.
"Stig's opinion doesn't matter anymore." He snorts with contempt. Then he takes the newspaper from my hand and holds the cover so close to my face that I can see every detail. "Take a closer look. What do you see?"
I press my lips together. Even if the photo's resolution were worse, the situation would still be all too clear. "It's not what it looks like."
Kjell is nobody. He means nothing to me. If anything, he's an acquaintance. I have this under control! Does Kahlo really think I'd ever be as foolish as I was back then?
"Oh no? So you're not gazing at this guy like he's a superstar with a completely ridiculous expression on your face?" He pretends to reexamine the picture, then looks at me with feigned sympathy. "Poor little Sky," he says with mock pity. "Poor little silly Sky."
Oh God, why is he doing this? Why is he digging his finger so deep into my wound?
Suddenly, it becomes clear to me what this means.
He will never relent. On the contrary, he will make my life a living hell until he gets what he wants. And if he can't forgive me, how will Father ever be willing to? On top of it all, the one thing that should never have happened has happened: I've been exposed.
This is too much. I can't take it anymore.
All the dams inside me are on the verge of breaking under the pressure imposed on me.
I control my actions.
"People change," I say, straining to get the words out.
He clicks his tongue and calmly folds his newspaper. Then he stands, buttons his jacket, and looks at me, shaking his head. "Not you, little Sky. Not you."
Unable to respond, I watch as he leaves the office. My heart beats hard against my chest, and I can't get enough oxygen.
I control my...
A mix of fear and panic takes hold of me.
Fear. Panic. And my greed, which I fear even more than any press report about me.
It's here. Digging its claws into me.
I contr...
I'm at its mercy and losing control.
Frantically, I reach for my handbag, pull out my cell phone, and dial that one number I've never been able to forget.
"Sky... look who we have here! What's the matter—"
"I need something." I interrupt him with a trembling voice. "Quickly."