3. PR Synergy
Chapter three
PR Synergy
The autumn wind bit at my cheeks as I stood on the concrete porch of my own home.
I dropped my heavy travel bag onto the welcome mat and stared at the brass deadbolt.
My thumb traced the jagged edge of my house key.
Just hours ago, I had stood on this exact spot and listened to the people I loved most price out my coffin.
Now, I had to walk inside and pretend I suspected nothing.
I tried to slide the key into the lock. My fingers remained rigid. The metal scraped against the brass plate, missing the keyhole. I pulled my hand back and forced a slow breath through my teeth. Sebastian’s legal office felt a lifetime away.
I left his sanctuary armed with a plan, but standing here, the reality of what I was doing set in. I had to live under the same roof as my murderers.
“Just smile,” I whispered to the empty porch.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and disarmed the security system before guiding the key into the slot.
I turned it, and the deadbolt gave way with a dull clunk.
I pushed the thick wooden door open and crossed the threshold.
The central heating vents blasted dry, artificial warmth into the foyer.
It hit my freezing skin, bringing with it the distinct, spicy sting of Warren’s expensive cologne.
My stomach roiled. The sheer potency of the scent made the air in the entryway feel unbreathable. I pulled the key from the lock and shut the heavy door behind me. I shoved it deep into the pocket of my winter coat. I rested my hands against my sides, forcing my shoulders to drop.
The extra weight of my pregnancy pulled on my lower back, giving me a perfect alibi for my utter exhaustion. I forced a wide, oblivious smile.
“I’m home!” I called out.
“Juniper? Is that you?” Warren asked from the adjacent room.
His voice echoed down the corridor. He sounded bright and thrilled, but I could hear the underlying panic.
I walked down the hardwood hallway toward the wide, open living room.
The soft, yellow glow of the table lamps spilled across the floorboards.
Warren and Naomi hurried around the corner, intercepting me near the archway.
They wore identical looks of fake, breathless joy.
Warren was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Naomi stood right beside him in a silk blouse.
They looked like the perfect husband and the devoted best friend.
I stared at them, studying their familiar features.
I searched for any visual cue of the monsters hiding beneath their skin.
There was nothing. They looked exactly the same as they did two days ago. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep my feet planted on the rug.
“Look at you!” Naomi gasped, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “You’re supposed to be at the retreat relaxing!”
“I couldn’t stand being away,” I said.
Naomi stepped closer, her eyes searching my face with feigned concern. “Did the food make you sick again? I told the concierge to strictly avoid dairy in your meals.”
“The kitchen staff was wonderful,” I lied, keeping my tone light. “I just realized I needed my own bed.”
“You came back by yourself? In this weather?” Warren asked, his brow furrowing.
“I hired a car. The driver dropped me off right at the end of the driveway.”
Warren stepped toward me. He reached out and placed a large hand on my shoulder. The weight of his palm against my coat turned my stomach. I did not flinch. I resisted the urge to cross my arms, holding his gaze.
“Junie! You’re back early. Why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up?” Warren asked.
I tilted my head, forcing my smile to reach my eyes.
“I was going to, but I honestly just missed you both too much.”
Naomi shoved Warren’s hand aside and threw her arms around my neck.
The smooth silk of her blouse slid against my wool coat.
I forced my arms up, wrapping them around her narrow waist. She squeezed me.
The powdery floral notes of her perfume overpowered the crisp scent of the autumn air clinging to my clothes.
This is the woman who wants to raise my baby after I’m dead.
The thought tasted like copper in my mouth. I did not pull away. I held my ground, patting her back in a steady, practiced rhythm. Every second of contact felt like a physical violation, but I forced myself to hold still until she finally let go.
“You are freezing,” Naomi scolded, finally stepping back to examine me. She reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “Your nose is pink. Let’s get you out of these layers.”
“The heater in the hired car broke halfway down the highway,” I lied, letting my arms drop to my sides. “I sat in the back shivering for the last forty miles. The driver offered his jacket, but it didn’t do much good.”
Warren moved behind me, playing the protective husband. “You should have called me, Junie. I would have met you halfway with blankets.”
He grasped the shoulders of my winter coat. I shifted my stance, helping him pull the thick sleeves down my arms. The sudden absence of the heavy wool left me exposed to the stifling heat pushing from the floor vents. Warren draped the garment over his arm. Then he leaned in, kissing my cheek.
The wet heat of his mouth against my skin made my stomach turn. I kept my expression steady, pressing my lips together. His hand slid up my arm, his fingers resting against my collarbone.
“We missed you just as much, babe,” Warren said, his thumb stroking the skin above my pulse. “Give me a minute. I’ll grab the bags, and you can tell us all about it.”
I tilted my chin toward him, offering a warm smile. “I can’t wait, Warren. There’s so much I want to share with you.”
He offered a devastating, practiced wink and turned toward the foyer. I watched him as he walked away, listening to the solid thud of his shoes on the hardwood. The front door clicked open, letting a final gust of cold air sweep inside, and then shut.
Naomi and I were alone in the house. She linked her arm through mine, her painted nails digging into the sleeve of my cardigan.
She steered me further into the living room, playing her role as the worried best friend.
The soles of my leather boots dragged against the thick plush of the rug.
I allowed her to guide me toward the sofa, leaning into the heavy, awkward ache in my lower back to sell the exhaustion.
“Sit,” Naomi ordered, patting the beige cushions. “You shouldn’t be on your feet after a miserable drive like that. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“I’m fine, really,” I said, sinking into the upholstery. The firm support felt good against my aching spine. I rubbed a hand over my swollen stomach, hiding the sudden urge to shield the baby behind a soothing caress.
Naomi dropped onto the opposite end of the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her. She rested her chin on her hand, leaning in to feign complete fascination. The table lamp illuminated her blonde hair, casting a soft glow that made her look entirely innocent.
“So, did the mountains have snow yet?” Naomi asked. “The brochures made the scenery look like a painting.”
“Just a dusting near the peaks,” I replied, keeping the story smooth and steady as I held her gaze. “But the trees were beautiful. I sat out on the balcony for hours just watching the leaves fall. The air up there is so crisp.”
“I knew it would be good for you.” Naomi beamed, her teeth flashing in the yellow lamplight. “You look so rested. Did they treat you well? Tell me you actually used the maternity spa.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I met her gaze, pushing past the genuine exhaustion in my bones to fake a burst of bright, manic energy. The bait hung right in front of them.
“It was incredible, Naomi,” I said. “You were both totally right. The quiet really gave me time to clear my head and just… think about the future.”
I paused, letting the silence stretch between us. Naomi’s smile widened, hungry for the praise. She thought I was going to thank her for managing my life while I was gone.
“Actually, that’s why I came back early,” I continued, holding her gaze. “I had a massive breakthrough.”
The sharp clink of ice against crystal drifted from the kitchen. Warren walked back into the living room carrying three glasses on a small silver tray, playing the devoted host. The heat from the floor register washed over my ankles, a stifling contrast to the freezing autumn wind outside.
“I brought sparkling cider over ice,” Warren said. “I figured you needed a cold drink after riding in that stuffy town car.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That broken heater really parched my throat.”
He leaned down and handed me a glass. The icy condensation ran over my fingers. The freezing sting of the crystal grounded me. The biting chill seeping into my skin was the only thing keeping me focused enough to maintain the smile.
Naomi took her drink from the tray. She swirled the ice, the cubes knocking against the glass. “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket, Junie? You were shivering in the foyer.”
“The floor vent is doing the job,” I said. “I’m thawing out.”
Warren took his own glass and settled onto the sofa beside me. The synthetic fabric of the upholstery dragged against his slacks. He draped his arm along the back of the cushions, his fingers resting inches from my neck.
“So,” Naomi prompted. She adjusted her position on the opposite cushion. “You mentioned a breakthrough. Did the mountain air give you a new sketch idea?”
I adjusted my weight, pressing my spine firmly against the back of the sofa. I traced a finger down the wet side of my glass. I needed to dangle the bait exactly where they could reach it.
“I want us to launch a brand-new maternity and baby line,” I said.
Warren lowered his drink.
“A full expansion of the brand,” I added. “Dedicated to mothers and infants. I spent the afternoon on the retreat terrace sketching the first designs.”