Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Iris
Walking into the apartment Harold gifted me, with a new rolling suitcase and a five-hundred-dollar outfit I just bought to keep up appearances, is surreal.
But it worked. I parked my car, took an Uber to a store, bought what I needed for the ruse—since I was wildly unprepared—and Ubered to the airport, where I turned on my work phone and called my driver.
Now I’m here…
Tired, in a world I thought I left behind.
Leaving my suitcase in the entryway, I rip the itchy wig off my head and throw it on the table.
In the dining room, the horror of plant neglect makes my heart ache as I get my watering can from under the sink and give them each a hearty drink.
One by one, I whisper heartfelt apologies for leaving them so long.
Two have already turned into dried carcasses, with fallen leaves of their former, once-vibrant life.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I carry them to the trash, where I give them a final goodbye before sending them on their way.
Once I’ve taken care of all my plants, I strip off my clothes, toss them onto a heap on the floor, and shower. Then I sleep. All day. Driving through the night zapped every ounce of my energy. I’m running on fumes.
It’s the next morning when I wake to find a text from Sola on my personal phone.
Dee is angry, but we’ve got this. Take all the time you need.
My sigh of relief breaks the eerie silence as I stretch. Pointing my toes, I arch up on my mattress to ease the kinks in my muscles. A yawn breaks free. I rub the sleep from my eyes as early morning light flits through the gauzy curtains in my bedroom.
This is one of my last days here in the city.
A city I’ve come to love. The hustle and bustle.
The anonymity, yet sense of community, only New Yorkers know—there’s nothing like it.
You feel like you’re a part of something greater here.
Even if you don’t know the person sitting next to you on the subway, there’s a kinship.
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know this sounds like a bunch of nonsense, but I’m… lost? No. Not lost… but something I can’t quite put my finger on.
In a few days, I’ll pack up and leave. Soon, I won’t be Ava working for Mr. Grant.
Not that I worked directly with him, but in a lower role, in a different office, doing a job anyone could do.
He offered it so we could be closer, and it worked perfectly, didn’t it?
I put on a smile and told him what he wanted to hear.
I played him for months, all the way until he died at the hands of my sister, and pieces of him nourished her favorite creatures.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, with my legs dangling off and my toes barely brushing against the floor, I wait for the guilt to set in, but nothing comes. Not even a twinge of regret.
Gray eyes flash across my mind.
Dark hair.
Muscles.
All the blood… his blood.
Dee ripping him apart.
Me stitching him back together.
His fevered mumbles.
Nope.
I’m not doing this. Not again. Not today.
I have a job to do. I have places to be. Then I’ll return to my sister. After that… who knows what’ll happen.
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I will the thoughts of him away and get up. In the closet, I pick one of two wigs off a mannequin head and carry it into the bathroom, where I do what I always do.
I pull the box of makeup out from under the sink and get to work, contouring my face, applying lashes and brows, until I’m no longer Iris but Ava, sweet voice, sweet disposition, with a wicked sense of fashion.
My hair is curled, my lipstick nude, and I’m wearing a sleek black dress that hugs all my curves, brought to you by shapewear that smooths everything.
God forbid women have lumps or bumps. Nope.
We can’t have that. My make-your-toes-bleed heels with the painted red sole complete the ensemble. They were a gift from Harold.
Leaving my personal cell on the charger next to the bed, I turn my work phone back on, shoulder an expensive purse from the closet to keep up appearances, and ring my driver to take me to work.
Less than an hour later, I’m strolling into my office with a coffee from the cart out front. I set my purse on my desk in my cubicle, and before I can sit down, the only coworker I can stand races into the tiny space, takes the coffee from me, sets it on my desk, and grabs me by both arms.
“Uh. Hello, Jay. It’s nice to see you, too.” I chuckle awkwardly, staring into her wild, dark eyes.
“They’re dead,” she hisses low, so nobody else can hear.
Leaning in, I whisper, “What are you talking about?” Even though I know what she’s referring to.
Kicking my chair out from under my desk, she forces me to sit. Then Jay paces the three feet in my cubicle, nibbling on her thumbnail. “Mr. Grant, his daughter, his son-in-law, and some of their friends are dead,” she mumbles, on the verge of breaking open her cuticle.
Gripping the arms of my office chair, I sit forward in a rush. “What? How?” I unhinge my jaw just enough and bug my eyes, all for show, of course.
“Ava, could you please meet me in my office?” my boss calls from the end of the hall.
“She’ll be there in five,” Jay hollers over her shoulder.
“How do you know… they’re dead?” I ask, with a hint of solemn surprise. Not too much. Just enough.
“They went missing a few weeks ago, and their boat was found without anyone on board. They sent out a dive team but haven’t recovered the bodies yet.”
I widen my eyes a little more. “They died at sea?”
“That’s what the cops said. It’s all over the news. Did you not get my texts?”
“I was on vacation and had my work phone turned off.”
“Oh. Duh.” Jay shakes out her shoulders and pats the front of her shirt before going back to her infamous nail biting. “I forgot you were visiting family overseas. How’d it go?”
“It was good,” I lie and get up to meet my boss. “I’m gonna go talk to Brian. Do you wanna do lunch? Catch up then?”
“Yes. Sounds great. I’m glad you’re back, Ava.”
“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” I give Jay’s shoulder a friendly squeeze before sliding past her to head to my dreaded boss’s office. Not that he’s bad. He’s a reasonable man. But he’s a man, and we know how I feel about them.
Smoothing down the front of my dress and setting my shoulders, I knock on his door.
“Come in,” he says in the familiar no-nonsense tone I’m used to.
I don’t rush. I have nothing to rush for.
I did nothing wrong, at least not that he knows of.
Even if my heart is hammering a million miles an hour, he won’t see the anxiety on my face, as I’m a professional.
I school my expression into a friendly one as if I’m happy to be back at my job after a refreshing visit with my family overseas.
From behind his imposing executive desk, my boss gestures for me to sit in one of the two leather chairs flanking the front. I take the one closest to the door and sit, as any lady would in a skintight dress, with my ankles crossed and tucked to the side, hands gently resting in my lap.
“What I’m about to say in here is strictly confidential,” he notes, sitting up straight in his chair and scooting it under his desk, his expression sympathetic.
With a pleasant smile glued in place, I nod.
“I know you and Mr.…” He clears his throat as if he’s having a hard time getting the words out. “Mr. Grant had a… friendship.”
Oh.
So my boss is aware of my affair with the man. Or alleged affair.
Squeezing my eyes shut in fake mortification, I swallow hard and think of the saddest, most agonizing pain imaginable… Losing my sister. Tears do their thing, so when I open my eyes and look at my boss, they’re glassy.
On a broken sigh, his entire frame deflates, and out comes the protective, caring side some men are capable of. Which speaks volumes about my boss’s character.
“I don’t know, and I don’t need to know when you found out about his passing. But I am very sorry for your loss. I know you’re just returning from your vacation, and I’m sure this is a shock. I’d… I’d like to grant you another two weeks off, for…. You know… bereavement.”
Cue more tears. They slide down my cheeks, and my boss pushes a box of tissues across his desk for me. I take one and use it to politely dab away the evidence.
“Thank you,” I croak. “I’m… so lost. I… I know it wasn’t right…”
Brian waves me off. “There is no judgment here. I just wanted to extend your time off, and I… also…”
I fold my tissue like a lady would. “What?”
“I… Damn.” My boss sighs like he wishes the world would swallow him whole. “This is gonna make me sound like a complete dick.”
“Just say it. Please.”
“I need you to sign an NDA.”
“So I don’t talk about our relationship?” I guess, assuming his wife wouldn’t want me to talk to the media, given she just lost her daughter and husband. It makes sense. I might not have anticipated this, but I’m not surprised.
Brian slides a notepad across his desk and clicks a pen open. “Yes. The company is willing to offer a reasonable incentive for you to do so.”
“What kind of—”
He reads from the notepad. “Half a million dollars, in addition to keeping your job, should you want, and your apartment for six months, until you can find another place to live.”
Now color me extra surprised.
Lips rounding in shock, I brush my fingertips over my décolletage. It’s something I saw in a movie once, when I was learning how to act around rich men. “Oh.” I throw in a little gasp for good measure.
“Fuck. Shit…” Brian tugs on the collar of his shirt. “I’m so sorry… I asked ‘em to have one of our lawyers talk to you, but they insisted I do it.”
Sitting forward in my chair, I gently touch the edge of his desk. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Ava, I truly am sorry.”
“Me too.” I force a polite smile. “I… I guess I’ll sign it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Leaning over his desk, my boss lowers his voice. “Can I offer you a suggestion?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Ask for more.”
“More money?” I act like I value his opinion when I don’t care either way. This was never about money to begin with. It was about ridding the earth of Harold and helping Dee. That’s what our jobs have been about.
“Yes. They can afford it, and they’ll give it to you. Go for a million, maybe even two. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
To sell my disbelief, I fluster like a woman in one of those nineteen-fifties movies. “Oh. Dear. I… I can’t possibly.” I fan my face and readjust in my chair.
Brian gobbles my damsel persona right up. “Yes, you can. Mr. Grant liked his women and took good care of them. Two million dollars is fair. You deserve it.”
“Oh. I… I didn’t know.” Not knowing what to do with my hands, I fidget with my hair and look up at my boss through my lashes, all shy and demure to coil him tighter around my finger.
“I know you didn’t,” he says, his voice soft. “If they want me to handle this, I will, on my terms. What do you say to me emailing the lawyers to set these terms? You’ll sign the NDA for two million, the six-month extension to your lease, and a guaranteed position.”
“I… I.” Swallowing thickly, I stutter my breath. “I don’t… I don’t think I can work here anymore. There are… too many memories of us. I…” Trailing off, I squeeze my eyes shut, and more of those money-making tears do their thing. Cha. Ching.
“Ava, that’s okay. I’ll get you a severance package. We can tie the two million into that.”
Not saying another word, I bob my head like a sad puppy, agreeing with him.
Two million dollars.
Two. Million. Dollars.
Good heavens, what am I to do with all that money?
Besides having Cell manage the account, taxes, and other things, she already handles the fake-identity stuff, or has someone she knows do it.
My boss speaks a little longer, explaining the ins and outs, and when we’re through, he walks me to the door.
“I wish you well, Ava. Feel free to clean out your desk, and I’ll send a courier to your apartment when all the paperwork is ready to be signed.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Hands clasped in front of me, head down, I take the walk of shame to my desk.
Jay is already there, ready to hear what happened.
When I explain I’m no longer employed here, she loses her shit.
Pulling her to the side, I whisper, “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.
” That calms her from a level ten to a two.
She spends the next thirty minutes helping me collect my things, which aren’t many, and walks me outside with my small box, my now tepid coffee, and my purse slung over my shoulder.
On the concrete walk right outside the thirty-two-story office building, Jay gives me a big hug, despite my arms being full.
Her smile is watery as we part ways.
Sure, this was a job, but Jay is a good person and someone I will miss.
The ride back to the apartment in the back of a cab, since I didn’t want to bother my driver, is peaceful.
Nobody could have anticipated this would go so smoothly.
Least of all me.
For the next few days, I lounge in my apartment in pajamas, eating whatever can be delivered, and in New York, that’s just about anything you can set your heart on.
I field texts from Sola about Dee and watch a brain-rotting amount of television.
It’s glorious. A vacation I’ve never had but secretly love.
When detectives come by to ask me about my relationship with Mr. Grant, I invite them in because I have nothing to hide.
Well, I do, but they don’t know that. I’m honest about our affair, tearful when necessary, and when they ask about my whereabouts, I tell them about my family overseas and show them my return ticket.
When they ask about the visit to the Hamptons, which I was prepared for, I tell them about the celebration for my promotion.
Which is true. My boss had planned to announce my new job title when I got back from my vacation.
Everything is covered by the time they leave, and I know when they’re standing at my doorway, offering their condolences, that I’m a free woman.
The relief is immense when I shut the door, set the locks, and fall onto the softest couch on the planet and smile.
My life here is almost done.
One more paper to sign, money to collect, and I’m out.
Wow.
What a rush.