Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Iwoke up to a bright Wednesday morning. I’d forgotten to close my curtains the night before, and sunlight streamed in. Outside, people were dragging trash cans to the curb, the sound of wheels disrupting the quiet.
Ugh. I hadn’t taken the trash out. In my robe and the first sandals I could find, I took the trash can from its hiding place in my yard and placed it where it belonged on the street. Cars on their way to work zoomed past me.
Back inside, I started my morning coffee, and as I grabbed my phone to check the daily news app, I noticed two missed calls from Grant. My brow furrowed, and then my phone rang. Grant again.
“Hello?” I answered slowly.
“Finally!” His voice was frantic. “I’m in front of Kirkman’s house. Can you meet me here?”
“Grant, no! I have that meeting today, remember? I can’t be late. What are you doing there?”
“I have to get inside. I’ve seen no movement since last night.” His voice was raspy.
“You’ve been watching his house all night?!” I squeaked.
“How else would I find out what’s going on?”
“Knock on the door?” I left out the duh, noting that would be my one act of patience with Grant for the day.
“I’d need an excuse, and anyway, it’s not like he’ll be like, ‘Here, come let me show you where I’m holding Margaret in my secret den of horrors.’ No. If you come and find an excuse to knock on the door and get him out of there, I can go in through the back.”
“Breaking and entering?! You need some sleep, Grant. That’s insane. I’m not going to be an accessory to a crime!”
“Never mind, then,” he said and hung up.
I squinted at the phone and shook my head.
He was way too invested in this. I was worried about Maggie too, but he had already called the police.
We’d tried everything in our power to find her.
There was no way I’d break into someone’s house, much less the house of someone we only slightly suspected might be a kidnapper on zero evidence.
Plus, I had the meeting later.
I pushed the coffee away, thinking all that caffeine wouldn’t help the nervousness that was creeping up on me. I made non-caffeinated herbal tea instead, banging my elbow on the kitchen counter twice in the process, which led to a minute-long cursing tirade.
My mom called. I stared at the phone, considering not answering. I almost pressed the red circle on the screen, but sighed loudly and went for the green one.
“Hi, Mom!” I lied about how I was feeling with my cheerful tone.
“Sweetie, I saw your text from last night. I was already asleep, but Katie, sweetie, go on that work trip.” All the “sweeties” were like a hammer to my guilty heart.
“But Mom, you need the medium pan. I’ve got a different bathing suit picked out. Roni and Lisa were going to teach us how to salsa dance.” It all sounded so ridiculous when I said it aloud. When had I replaced people my own age with retirees?
Oh, yeah. I remember. But I didn’t want to remember.
“This is a chance to make connections at work and show them how wonderful you are. Katie, you are going to go and you are going to work hard and have a great time. I’ll see you the following weekend. You definitely can’t miss that one because it’s Roni’s birthday party.”
“I know,” I said, reaching into my closet for the burgundy sweater I liked. “She said she was going to teach us salsa dancing because it’s a Latin Nights theme.”
“Let’s face it, sweetie. You were never going to learn to dance salsa in one weekend.”
I threw the sweater on the bed. “Mom!”
“You can’t dance. That’s the truth of it. It’s better to be accepting of ourselves and love ourselves just the way we are. You are never going to win a ballroom dancing competition, and I’m never going to win a Grammy.”
I laughed. “Definitely not. In fact, you’re forbidden from ever singing any lullabies to any future children I might have.”
“Don’t I know it!” she shouted. “You used to cry harder when I sang them to you!”
I laughed at the same old joke I’d heard thousands of times. I told my mom I loved her and that I’d think about the weekend work trip and keep her updated.
By the time I plopped down at my desk at work, with no sign of Grant, I was right on time and eager to finish gathering everything I needed for the meeting. Unfortunately, as I waited for it all to come out of the printer, I was bombarded by people who wanted to discuss Maggie’s disappearance.
“Have you heard anything yet, Kate?” Jessica asked. Monica popped her head up from her cubicle and asked the same thing.
“Nothing,” I answered.
“Such a mystery,” Jessica said, twirling her hair in thought. She leaned against the cubicle wall and continued, “I wonder what’s happened to her. This is like job abandonment, right?”
“I guess,” I said carefully. “Unless something happened to her.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t want to suggest it, but it could be something like that. It happens more than you think. Kidnappings.”
I nodded to be polite. “Sure. I just think we can’t jump to conclusions. Hopefully, she’ll reach out soon.”
“Yeah, let me know if you find out anything,” she said, and Monica chimed in with, “Me too.”
“Of course,” I said, gathering my papers that had finally printed. Jessica flitted over to Monica’s desk, and I heard Maggie’s name in whispers.
The office gossip wasn’t helping me prepare for my presentation at the meeting, which was to start in the next fifteen minutes. I gathered my printed reports and headed upstairs, where the executive offices were located.
I’d been to that floor before, but never without Maggie. Being the only one representing the department was foreign to me, and my confidence wavered. Until I saw Kaitlin at the door greeting people.
I plastered a fake smile on my face. I’d give the presentation of my life just to shove it in her face. Her hand waving me in served as a civil enough greeting.
It’s hard to remember why every encounter between Kaitlin and me was marked by forced politeness and cynicism.
It’s possible it began with Grant’s attention—which she clearly desired—toward me.
Couple this with how often people asked to clarify which Katelynn/Kaitlin/Caitlin they were talking about.
But if she was constantly correcting people on the name confusion and telling them that my name’s spelling was an abomination, I was obviously going to have feelings on the matter.
Not to mention her palpable disdain for me in public.
I pushed Kaitlin from my mind, greeting everyone as they trickled into the room. Colin had not arrived yet.
The chatter dwindled a minute later. I looked to the door as others were doing, and in he glided—swift, yet totally controlled, cool, and confident. All the C-letter words that I generally was not.
All eyes followed him to the head of the table, where he stood for a moment and called Kaitlin inside to start the meeting.
“You’re drooling,” Kaitlin whispered as she bent down to my ear level and then walked on to take her seat beside Colin with a pleased smile. She must have thought her little comment had some sort of effect on me.
Well, it didn’t.
Everyone in that room was staring at him with quiet interest because he was the new boss.
I was doing no differently. The fact that he was an attractive man whose presence commanded attention did not factor into the situation at all.
This was a place of business, with high-level professional employees.
Still standing, Colin put his hands together in front of him, smiled, and said, “Good morning.”
He paused, letting us breathe in the air that held the rich, low tone of his voice.
The words seemed to float around us. Or at least around me.
I looked around to see if anyone else was starting to get as hot as I was, but nobody moved a muscle.
I, however, rearranged my seating position forward so that my shirt wouldn’t stick to my back.
Colin introduced himself, spoke of his past work experience, his vision for our department and the company, and how each of us fit into that vision. When it was my turn, I could swear the side of his mouth turned upward as he said my name.
My pulse was racing by then, the heat now uncomfortably enveloping me, and I shifted in my seat again. I made the mistake of looking at Kaitlin. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in my direction. I didn’t need that kind of energy right before my presentation.
“Katelynn Donovan,” he said, his tone lowering slightly. “Assistant Director, stepping in for Ms. Flame.” He sat in his chair at the head of the table.
I spoke somewhat shakily at first, introducing myself again. The data, the projections, the upcoming accounts—they all came out clean. I even managed to sound confident.
It went really well, I told myself as I sat back down and waited for discussion or Colin’s reaction.
“Thank you, Katelynn. Lots of good information there, and I’d like us to focus on a couple of clients, but first I’d like to point out to everyone how impressed I am by how you’ve stepped up in our hour of need.
Of course, our work today isn’t finished.
Since Ms. Flame is unavailable, I’d like Katelynn to travel to Chicago this weekend to meet the Sheldon & Bing Group. ”
He was staring at me. As were all eyes in that room. The expectation of a yes was bouncing off the walls. I resented it. Gorgeous as he was, I now resented his good looks too.
Colin Slade had probably never had anyone reject him before. His appearance, his politeness, his obvious wealth… who could say no to all that? Everyone was waiting for me to say yes (and with gratitude in my voice too). But I wanted to say no so badly.
My mom’s voice was in my head telling me to go.
Getting away sounded kind of nice, especially a break from Grant (at least on Friday).
I’d probably have time to do something fun in Chicago.
As I tried to convince myself that it was the right thing to do, my gaze landed on Kaitlin’s haughty look at me and then back at Colin, and I said, “Absolutely, I’ll do it. ”
His face broke into a measured smile. “Wonderful.” Colin Slade was not a man who reacted. He listened, assessed, and chose his words carefully, as if every one of them had weight. Even when he smiled, there was a sense that it was deliberate.
For him, this was probably just another work trip. For me, since it was my first, it was like stepping off a ledge.
What would I pack? What would I do with myself in my time off? Was I going to sit next to Colin on the plane? Was anyone else going? I had so many questions, but the meeting ended. Colin left first, and by the time I walked out of the room, he was gone.
“I’ll send you the flight and hotel information as soon as I have it,” Kaitlin said behind me.
“Sure, thanks,” I said. I didn’t bother to check if her expression matched the sour tone she used.
In the elevator, a few of the other directors congratulated me. I smiled and nodded, but my mind was elsewhere—on Colin and the way my body seemed to be turning against me. The weekend ahead would be difficult if I couldn’t learn to stay more composed around him.
It wasn’t until I got to my floor that I checked my phone. Five missed calls from Grant. And several texts.
Grant: Answer the phone!
Grant: Kirkman left the house with a gym bag. You’re not answering, so I’m going in.
Grant: Why aren’t you answering?
Grant: I’m not going to tell you what I found.
The blood drained from my face.