Chapter Thirty-Two
“Have you sent the report to OES about Savannah?” Stratos asked his sister.
“I intend to do so after this meeting.”
He looked at his mother. “If Corona agrees to scrap the report to OES, and she contacts GAL Friday and recants the charges, convinces them Savannah was cleared of any wrongdoing, I’ll sign. If she doesn’t—I’ll fight the demotion to the end. I will never concede.”
“No. I don’t agree,” Corona said.
“Yes, you do,” his mother contradicted her. She wasn’t stupid. This was a very small concession on their part to get everything they both wanted. “We agree.”
“Put our agreement in writing with a clause that if either of you violates the agreement, the entire document becomes null and void—and I’ll sign it and step down.”
His mother called in her assistant and had her change the document.
He scrawled his name across the screen.
His stomach churned with grief at having signed away his father’s legacy. Within a few years, there wouldn’t be a company, but he couldn’t abandon Savannah. His father’s dream had become his, but what good was a dream without happiness? Atmos was the past; Savannah was the future.
“It goes into effect immediately,” his mother said.
They were probably removing his name from the door right now.
Without another word to either of them, he stalked out and went to find Savannah, to beg her not to give up on him, reassure her of his love and commitment, and promise there would be no repercussions to her future employment.
After this debacle, he could understand if she wished to wash her hands of him, his family, and Oberia.
But he would fight hard to convince her to stay. He loved her. One way or another, he would take care of her. He wasn’t vice president anymore and would never be CEO, but he was still very wealthy.
He’d told her to go to the penthouse, but on the chance she’d stopped at the office, he went there first. Her purse wasn’t there, an indication she’d come and gone. He eyed the space one last time feeling…nothing. The huge corner suite with the wide windows was just an office.
Savannah sitting at her console, sashaying in and out, providing support and insight with a strong dose of sarcasm, and bringing him kaffii and nuknuks because she cared about him, had made it meaningful. That was what he would miss about the office—her.
To his surprise, his vehicle picked him up right away. Savannah should have taken it to the penthouse. She must have sent it for me.
The vehicle landed on the roof of his building, and he descended to their penthouse.
“Savannah?” he called upon entering. He swiveled his head, peering through the transparent walls.
“Aaia—has Savannah been home?”
“No.”
He’d been unable to defend her or reassure her during the interrogation, and he worried she might be thinking he’d believed the accusations and had abandoned her. Where could she have gone? All his vehicles had been parked on the roof. Would she have taken a walk?
Come home. Let me make it right, please. He sank onto the sofa to wait then jumped up. When I said, go home, she couldn’t have thought I meant home to Earth, could she?
“Aaia, check the spaceport. Find out if Savannah purchased any tickets going off planet.”
He ran to the bedroom. Her clothing was still here.
“She has not purchased any spaceflight tickets.”
Reassured a little, he resumed his wait in the living room.
* * * *
One week later
Kyra peered into Stratos’ cubicle in the lab. “Go home, Stratos.”
“And do what?”
“Grieve, get drunk, get laid, do whatever it takes to get over her. You’re of no use here.”
The new vice president of Research and Development wasn’t wrong. Since Savannah had vanished, he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t concentrate. Design ideas had dried up; he couldn’t even focus on existing projects. He’d become just a body occupying space.
“You think a day off will fix that, huh?”
“Not a day. As much time as you need—but take it.” She hesitated. “That’s an order.”
“You’re a tough boss.” The corner of his mouth quirked a little.
“I learned from a tough boss.” She smiled then sobered. “I’m so sorry. This reversal is awkward for both of us.”
He waved. “No, it’s all right. You deserve to be VP. I’m glad that, for you, it worked out.” Of everything that had happened, he did not begrudge Kyra the opportunity. She’d earned it. If he hadn’t been the son of the founder, she would have been promoted years ago.
Positions and titles had been shuffled. Elara had been moved into Kyra’s old job, lab manager. Given the lofty title of lead designer, Stratos technically reported to Elara.
“We’ll see,” Kyra said. “I’m still adjusting to the new paradigm.”
When Savannah failed to come home after the interrogation, he’d revisited every place they’d ever been together and searched every locale where she might have ventured alone.
He’d stormed into Vecton’s office. The Alcyoneus executive had been interested in her, and she might have gone to him for help.
But, Vecton hadn’t seen her. Stratos contacted the detention centers in case his sister had reneged on the deal and had her arrested.
Officials told him no one named Savannah Mays had been detained.
He even had Kep check, figuring if Magistrate Keplar inquired, the answer might be different. It wasn’t.
When he finally reported to the office, his design console had been moved into his old cubicle in the lab, and Kyra, promoted to vice president, was installed in his office in the executive area.
He’d been unable to design a single thing.
“Where have you looked for Savannah?” Kyra asked.
He shook his head. “Everywhere. The spaceport. Her old apartment. The Nature Conservatory. All the places we visited. Even the detention center. I contacted GAL Friday to find out if they’d received any communications from her.
They hadn’t.” He did verify that his sister had followed through and recanted her lies.
His mother would have insisted she adhere to their contractual agreement.
“Did she have friends you could call on?”
“Only—you know…Benson.”
Kyra winced.
He squeezed out from behind the console. Fitting the design station into his old office had been no problem, but it took up all the space in the small cubicle. “I will take that leave of absence. I’ll circle back, check everywhere again.”
“I hope you find her,” she said. “When you’re ready to come back, work will be waiting for you.” She started to leave then turned. “Your father was such a talented man. He always intended for you to walk in his footsteps. He would be aghast at what happened. He wouldn’t be happy at all.”
No, he wouldn’t.
She bit her lip. “The document you signed—how sure are you the conditions are being followed?”
“My mother would not renege on a contract.” She didn’t operate like that. She’d gotten what she wanted—secured the CEO position for her favorite child—and she would honor the agreement.
“It’s not Frysta I’m concerned about.”
Oh, let me guess.
“It’s not my place to say anything. I should keep my mouth shut.
But I had the greatest respect for your father, as I do for you.
Being in the executive offices now, attending the meetings, receiving the communiques, I’ve been observing how the vice presidents operate.
Corona is gloating, which is to be expected, but she’s gloating too much.
She acts smugly secretive, like there’s something else going on. I have no facts, just a feeling.”
“Thank you for the heads-up.”
She nodded and went her way, and he went his. Hands in his pockets, he left the lab.
* * * *
Since the demotion, he’d avoided his mother and sister, not wishing to deal with either of them.
If Kyra had sensed chicanery, then Corona probably was up to something.
Could she have had a hand in Savannah’s disappearance?
If he acted like it was a certainty, she might let something slip.
She’d like nothing more than to brag about it.
Her assistant was away from her desk, allowing him to barge into the office unannounced. “Where’s Savannah?” he demanded.
Corona looked him right in the eye. “How would I know?”
She’s lying. Kyra had been right.
“Don’t flek with me! She disappeared, and you’re responsible.”
“If she left you, it has nothing to do with me. Get out of my office.” She swiveled away from him, toward the open report on her desk, but he spied her smirk in the window reflection.
He spun her chair around and yanked her to her feet. Her eyes widened with shock. “What did you do?” he bit out.
“Let me go.” Her gaze shot to the door. Her assistant couldn’t rescue her this time.
He hauled her close, so they were eye to eye, the toes of her shoes barely skimming the floor.
“You have no flekking right to manhandle me. Put me down now!”
He didn’t respond.
“I’ll call security!”
Silence.
“Crystalla! Crystalla!” she yelled for her assistant.
Silence.
“Have you lost your flekking mind?”
Silence.
Her gaze shifted to the right, and then she wet her lips. “I didn’t do anything, but I might know where she is.” She met his eyes again. “She caught a shuttle to Earth.”
“I checked with the spaceport. There were no tickets issued in her name.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, then. I saw her name on a flight manifest.”
“You’re lying.” He’d never liked his sister, didn’t respect her abilities (she had none) but didn’t realize until now how much he despised her.
She did her best to shrug. “Fine. Don’t believe me.”
“Show me the manifest.”
“You’ll have to let me go for me to do that.”
Her claim Savannah had left was probably bogus, a way to get him to release her. But where could Savannah be? She had no place to live. Going home to Earth made sense.
He let her go, and Corona’s chin jutted out haughtily.
“Why would you even look at the flight manifest?” he said.
“Because I have a vested interest in her leaving. It can’t come as a surprise I want her gone.” It was the most honest statement she had ever uttered.
She turned to her console, tapped around, and called up a passenger list for the Oberian Interplanetary Spaceport. “Look it up for yourself.”
He selected the date range and then searched for her name.
SAVANNAH MAYS, D20900417, ICARUS, EARTH popped up in red. Name. Date. Flight Numbers.
She’d departed for Earth the day of the interrogation.
She left. She’s been gone a week.
He almost couldn’t breathe. He didn’t dare look at his sister, for fear she’d be grinning smugly, and he didn’t trust himself. He spun on his heel and stalked toward the exit.
“I’m going to report this little incident to Mother,” his sister called out before the door closed.