Chương 13
Elias noticed.
“Marcus asked the kitchen downstairs to send something simple.”
“I thought billionaires had chefs.”
“I do.”
“Then why is there a paper bag?”
“Because my chef went home three hours ago like a person with boundaries.”
I looked at the bag.
“Good for him.”
“Her.”
“Good for her.”
He unpacked the food without ceremony.
There were plastic containers and napkins and one spoon.
“You’re eating too?”
“I already did.”
“You expect me to eat while you watch?”
“No.”
He sat in the chair by the window and opened his laptop.
“That’s worse.”
He looked up.
“Why?”
“Now it looks like you’re pretending not to watch.”
“I’m working.”
“Convenient.”
He closed the laptop.
“Would you prefer I leave?”
I almost said yes.
Instead I looked at Grace.
“No.”
The answer sat between us.
Elias did not examine it.
That made it easier.
I ate.
The soup was salty and too hot.
The bread had gone soft inside the bag.
It was the best meal I could remember because nobody commented on how much I took.
Halfway through, Grace made a small noise.
I adjusted her against my shoulder.
Elias watched.
“You’re afraid of holding them.”
He stiffened.
“I held Grace earlier.”
“That’s not what I said.”
His gaze moved toward the window.
For a moment I thought he would refuse.
Then he said, “My sister had a son.”
I waited.
“He was eight months old when she died.”
The spoon stopped halfway to my mouth.
“What happened to him?”
“He lived.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
He rubbed one hand across his jaw.
“My parents took him.”
“Did you help?”
“Badly.”
That answer surprised me.
“How do you help badly?”
“I gave money.”
I said nothing.
“I paid for things.”
He looked almost annoyed with himself.
“Schools, doctors, eventually college.”
“But?”
“But I was twenty-seven and building a company and very good at convincing myself that paying for something counted as being present.”
I looked down at Grace.
“What’s his name?”
“Thomas.”
“Do you see him?”
“Sometimes.”
“That sounds like no.”
Elias gave a short laugh.
“Usually Christmas.”
“Does he hate you?”
“No.”
“That sounds worse.”
He looked at me.
“It is.”
I understood then.
Hatred was clean.
Indifference left nowhere to argue.
“Is that why babies scare you?”
“No.”
He paused.
“Maybe.”
Grace began to squirm.
Without thinking, I held her toward him.
“Take her.”
His eyes widened.
“No.”
“You rescued her half frozen under a bridge.”
“That was different.”
“She’s smaller now?”
“She’s awake.”
I almost smiled.
“So?”
“She looks fragile.”
“She is.”
“That is not persuasive.”
“Neither is refusing.”
He stared at me.
Then at Grace.
Slowly, he stood.
I transferred her into his arms.
He held her too stiffly.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re carrying explosives.”
“She moved.”
“Babies do that.”
“She moved suddenly.”
“That too.”
Grace opened her eyes.
Elias went completely still.
Her hand escaped the blanket and closed around his finger.
His expression changed.
I pretended not to see.
After a while, he said, “Thomas used to do that.”
I waited.
“He had red hair.”
“Like your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a picture?”
He looked surprised.
Then he took out his phone.
It took him longer than I expected to find one.
Finally he showed me a photograph of a young woman sitting on the hood of a car.
She had red hair pulled into a loose knot and one hand raised as if she were protesting the photograph.
A teenage Elias stood beside her looking irritated.
“You smiled less then.”
“I was sixteen.”
“That’s when people smile the least.”
The corner of his mouth moved.
“My sister would have liked you.”
The sentence made me uncomfortable.
“You don’t know me.”
“No.”
He accepted the correction.
“That was unfair.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“She looks happy.”
“She was, sometimes.”
Sometimes.
The word was better than pretending.
Grace made a small squeak.
Elias adjusted her more naturally this time.
Then his phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
His face hardened.
“What?”
He did not answer.
I set the soup aside.
“Elias.”
He looked at me.
“Daniel contacted my office.”
My heart began beating faster.
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t speak directly to me.”
“What did he send?”
Elias hesitated.
I put my hand out.
He did not give me the phone.
“Ava.”
“Naomi said no secrets.”
“She said no legal strategy without you.”
“That sounds like a rich-person interpretation.”
His jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
He turned the screen toward me.
It was an email forwarded from his executive assistant.
The subject line contained my name.
The message was short.
Stay away from my wife and children.
You are exploiting a medically compromised woman for publicity.
If you continue interfering with my family, everything about your sister becomes relevant.
I read the last sentence twice.
Then I looked at Elias.
His face had gone almost expressionless.
“What does he know about your sister?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not true.”
He looked away.
I felt something inside me tighten.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Grace stirred in his arms.
He handed her back carefully.
Then he walked toward the window.
For several seconds, the only sound came from the humidifier near the crib.
“My sister’s husband worked for Leonard Miller.”
My body went still.
“When?”
“More than twenty years ago.”
“What kind of work?”
“Construction management.”
“For one of Leonard’s companies?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Daniel was connected to him when you found me?”
“No.”
“Did Marcus?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“This morning.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve known all day.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know whether it mattered.”
“It mattered enough for Daniel to threaten you with it.”
Elias turned.
“That message came two minutes ago.”
“That doesn’t change the rest.”
His expression tightened.
“I was trying not to make your situation about my family.”
“You made that decision for me.”
May you like
He said nothing.
Anger moved through me faster than fear.
