Chương 10
“Of course.”
“No.”
He handed the phone back and pushed up his left sleeve.
A thin white scar crossed the base of his thumb, a souvenir from breaking a wineglass in college.
The hand in the photograph had no scar.
“That isn’t me.”
I looked at the image again.
The sleeve was dark.
The watch expensive.
The terrace undeniably belonged to Elijah’s office suite.
“Then who was she drinking with in your office?”
His face had gone pale.
“I don’t know.”
A black SUV pulled to the curb behind him.
The driver stepped out.
Elijah did not notice.
He was staring at the photograph as though it had opened a door he had spent months refusing to see.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The name displayed was Laura.
Neither of us spoke.
The phone rang again in his hand.
I watched his face.
“Answer it.”
He looked at me.
“Alex.”
“Answer it.”
He hesitated, then accepted the call and put it on speaker.
“Laura.”
Her voice came through breathless and frightened.
“Elijah, thank God.”
“What happened?”
“You need to come back.”
He glanced at me.
“Why?”
There was a pause.
Then Laura began to cry.
“The auditors are here.”
Elijah’s expression hardened.
“Where?”
“At your office.”
Another breath.
“And they found something in your desk.”
Elijah’s eyes narrowed.
“What did they find?”
Laura’s breathing crackled through the speaker.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“They wouldn’t let me stay.”
“Who is they?”
“Margaret, two members of the audit committee, and outside counsel.”
Elijah looked at me.
“Why were you in my office?”
Silence.
“I work there.”
“You work across the hall.”
Another silence.
My fingers tightened around my phone.
“Elijah,” Laura said, “this is not the time.”
“It became the time when you called me.”
“I was trying to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
Her voice dropped.
“There was a folder.”
“What folder?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said they found something.”
“I saw Margaret carrying it.”
Elijah stepped away from the awning and into the rain without seeming to notice.
“Did you touch anything in my office?”
“No.”
“Laura.”
“No.”
He looked at me again.
The look was not accusation.
It was fear.
Not fear of me.
Fear that the version of his life he understood was becoming unreliable.
“Stay where you are,” he said.
“Where?”
“At the hotel.”
“I’m not at the hotel.”
His face hardened.
“Where are you?”
She hesitated.
“Home.”
“Whose home?”
“My apartment.”
Something in the way she answered made him close his eyes.
“Do not go to the office.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Do not call anyone on the board.”
“Elijah, I’m trying to help you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her voice cracked.
“You think everyone is against you right now, but I am the only person who has been trying to protect you.”
My stomach turned.
Elijah’s eyes opened.
“Protect me from what?”
Laura began crying again.
This time, I did not believe it.
“From your mother.”
He stared at the phone.
“My mother.”
“She has wanted you out for months.”
“That is not true.”
“You said it yourself.”
His expression changed.
I saw the memory before he spoke.
“When?”
“Don’t do this.”
“When did I say that?”
“After Napa.”
He went very still.
I watched him.
“What happened in Napa?”
He ignored me.
Laura exhaled shakily.
“You told me she thought you were reckless.”
“That is not the same as wanting me out.”
“You said she never trusted your judgment.”
“I was angry.”
“You said she would rather control the company herself.”
“I say a lot of things when I’m angry.”
“Yes.”
Laura’s voice turned softer.
“So do I.”
I understood then that this conversation was not for me.
Maybe it was not even for Elijah.
She was reminding him of intimacy.
Of secrets.
Of the private language they had built while I sat at home wondering why my husband no longer wanted dinner with me.
Elijah understood too.
His face flushed.
“Goodbye, Laura.”
“Wait.”
He ended the call.
Rain ran from his hair onto his collar.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I have to go back.”
“To California?”
“Yes.”
“My mother died this morning.”
“I know.”
“And you’re leaving.”
He looked tortured.
“I can’t ignore an audit committee searching my office.”
“You came here because you said I shouldn’t be alone.”
“I know.”
“That lasted what, twenty minutes?”
“Alex.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You don’t get to keep saying my name like it changes what you’re doing.”
His mouth opened.
I held up a hand.
“Go.”
“I can come back tonight.”
“Don’t.”
“I need to be at the funeral.”
“You need to decide what matters to you without asking me to rank it.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Probably.”
I looked toward the hospice building down the block.
“My mother is still in a room waiting for the funeral home.”
His face collapsed again.
I hated that I could see his pain.
I hated even more that some part of me still wanted to comfort it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Go.”
He stood beneath the rain for another second.
Then he handed the roses to the driver.
“Put those in the car.”
The driver obeyed without looking at either of us.
Elijah stepped closer.
“Please don’t make any decisions about us today.”
I almost smiled.
“That sounds exactly like you.”
“What does?”
“Requesting a delay when the outcome scares you.”
His eyes hardened, then softened again.
“Maybe.”
For once, he did not argue.
He got into the SUV.
I watched it pull away from the curb.
The roses were visible through the rear window.
They looked like a funeral arrangement.
I walked back toward the hospice.
By the time I reached the entrance, my hair was wet and my shoes were soaked through.
Carmen saw me and frowned.
“You didn’t take an umbrella.”
“I forgot.”
“There are six by the door.”
“I forgot those too.”
May you like
She handed me a towel.
“Your sister called the front desk.”
