Chapter 17 #2
“He never says why, but it’s not unusual when someone joins the Company.”
“Did he at least say when?”
“This coming Saturday afternoon. At his estate, in Montana.”
I suppose there’s no getting out of it. “Very well.”
DeLuca’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder. “Make sure you take Victoria, hmm? Remember, Fournier puts a lot of stock in stability.”
I fight not to tense. “Of course,” I say, buying time. “But I wouldn’t want to presume, if she’s not named on the invitation—”
“She is,” DeLuca says coldly. “I did warn you to keep your head down, but…” He shrugs, like I’m past saving, and walks off down the hallway.
Rita steps up beside me, her voice a murmur as she watches DeLuca turn the corner, out of sight. “Why do you keep provoking him by protecting that vapid investigator of yours?”
I say nothing, feeling the muscle in my jaw tighten, and release it with an effort.
Rita still notices, and laughs. “Oh no,” she says with mock concern. “Not more trouble in paradise?”
It’s fine. Saturday’s a working week away. Plenty of time to find where Vicky’s hiding.
Hell, it’s Monday. She’s probably already back at Carol’s.
“I told you she’s not here,” Carol says, and tries to close her door in my face. The toe of my shoe stops her.
“Have you heard from her?”
“No.” Her scowl returns.
And I know, instinctively, that Vicky hasn’t been in touch because she knew I’d be back. Which means she’s not coming back—not here, at least.
“If you hear, will you tell me?” I ask, more from completeness than any expectation.
“No,” Carol says bluntly. “If Vicky wants you, she has your number, doesn’t she?”
This time, when she tries to close the door, I let her.
The week passes slowly, and for the first time, I’m struggling to concentrate on my work.
Rita notices, of course.
“Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?” she asks, mid-Friday morning, Greenstone papers spread out on the table in my office.
I haven’t, and my usual ability to recall things half-heard has failed me.
I also don’t care.
She closes her laptop in exasperation. “Don’t you remember? Your success is my success, and your failure is mine too. I don’t like failing, Alex.”
“I’m not going to fail.” I might want to learn the piano one day.
“You’re so obsessed with that vapid little investigator. Was it that you didn’t get a blowjob last night, or was it that was too good?”
“Watch your mouth,” I snap. “That’s my fiancée you’re talking about.”
“Is she really?” She arches an eyebrow.
“You know damn well she is.”
“Have you set a date, then?”
No. We’ve never even discussed it.
But DeLuca’s been clear: six months. Or five-and-change, now.
None of that is Rita’s business. “Plenty of people have long engagements.”
“Says the man who’s all ‘I take what I want, when I want it.’”
She’s trying to goad me. Probably still pissed about Friday.
I lean back in my chair and let my eyes go cold. “Invaluable, you may be. Replaceable, you are.”
Her mouth closes on whatever retort she was about to give me, then her shoulders slump.
I think she’s going to say more, but instead, she stands, picks up her laptop, and walks across my office.
She pauses by the door. “I know you have this trip to see Fournier tomorrow, so I’ll cut you some slack.
By Monday, would you please have your head back in the game? ”
I don’t reply, and the door closes behind her.
And though I’m tired of admitting it, Rita is, yet again, right.
My head is anywhere but where it needs to be, and it’s Vicky’s fault. I can’t afford this distraction right now. Not with Greenstone, not with DeLuca’s six-month target, and sure as hell not with the visit to Montana a mere twenty-four hours away.
I pull my phone out, checking for the hundredth time if Vicky’s replied to any of my message, or even seen them. The ticks are grey: sent, not delivered.
My number: still blocked.
Where the hell has she gone?
I know damn well she’d still be here if I hadn’t killed the HM&L deal—and that’s an irony. She wouldn’t leave with work on the table.
But then, she wouldn’t have come to the ball, either, with all that followed.
That had been a surprise. In fairness, I thought she was too proud to turn up, merely because it saved her paying me back that twenty grand.
She is, you fool, says the part of me that likes Vicky the most.
But she still came, I reply. And I still fucked her.
And even through all of that, she fought you.
Yes. She did.
The back of my chair snaps upright as I lean forward.
Vicky is proud. Vicky wouldn’t have come, just for my money. She’d go hungry before then. She’d rent a room in someone else’s apartment before then.
She doesn’t have a payment from HM&L. She spent all her savings on setting up her business. And she won’t touch the twenty grand I gave her, because she’s too damned proud.
So what the hell is she living on, and how the hell can she afford to go anywhere?
I flick my computer awake and pull up the transactions on our joint account, curious if she’s been using it.
There are only two entries for the month of March. She’s not been using the card.
Except for this week. A cab booking, and a flight.
And now I know where my Vicky is.
Miami.
She’s gone to visit her brother.