Chương 2
Dominic looked at her.
“I’m reviewing security video because nobody in this room seems able to answer a simple question.”
“I already answered it.”
“You’re not nobody.”
The remark sounded almost affectionate.
That made it worse.
Vanessa’s mouth tightened.
I bent to pick up my delivery bag.
My hands were shaking now that nothing required them to be steady.
I hated that too.
Delayed fear always made me feel cheated.
During a fight, my body behaved.
Afterward, it sent an invoice.
Dominic noticed the movement.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Not yet.”
I looked at him.
That hundred-dollar bill flashed through my mind.
The freezing rain.
The insurance envelope.
Every delivery after that.
Every time Vanessa spoke to me like I had tracked mud across her life.
“I’m not one of your employees.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“No.”
“So you don’t get to tell me when I leave.”
A few people looked at him then.
That interested them more than the slap.
Vanessa gave a breathless little laugh.
“See?”
Dominic ignored her.
“You’re right.”
I had already turned toward the hall when he added, “But if she assaulted you, you should decide whether you want the police called.”
I stopped.
Vanessa stopped breathing behind me.
I looked back.
Dominic was watching me, not her.
“If I call them,” he said, “the footage gets preserved, statements get taken, and this becomes something nobody here gets to pretend didn’t happen tomorrow.”
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“Dominic.”
He finally looked at her.
“What?”
“You’re embarrassing me.”
He glanced around the ballroom.
“No.”
The room grew even quieter.
“You managed that without help.”
Her face went pale.
For the first time since I had met her, I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then the man with the phone cleared his throat.
“I knocked over the cake.”
Every head turned.
He looked about thirty-five, handsome in the exhausted way of somebody accustomed to being forgiven.
He raised the phone weakly.
“I was backing up.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You said nothing.”
He rubbed the side of his nose.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, then at me.
“Because you were already yelling, and I figured the staff would replace it.”
“I’m not staff,” I said.
He winced.
“Right.”
His wife, or girlfriend, or whoever stood beside him stepped away by several inches.
He noticed.
That seemed to bother him more than my answer.
Dominic pointed toward him.
“Name.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted.
“You know my name.”
“Say it anyway.”
“Elliot Crane.”
“Elliot knocked over the cake,” Dominic said.
Vanessa shook her head.
“That isn’t the point.”
“It was the point when you made her kneel.”
“I didn’t make her do anything.”
I looked at her.
She met my eyes.
There it was.
The first lie that mattered.
Not because people would believe it.
Because she had decided to erase what she had done while cake was still stuck to my hands.
Dominic glanced toward the camera again.
“Marco, include audio if the system has it.”
“It does.”
Vanessa stepped toward him.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
“Dominic.”
“Not yet.”
Something passed between them that I did not understand.
Fear, maybe.
But not fear of a breakup.
Vanessa was angry at him, yes, but beneath it was something tighter.
Calculation.
I had seen that expression before too.
My father used to wear it when a bill arrived that he did not want Mom to see.
I picked up my insulated bag.
“This has nothing to do with me anymore.”
Dominic turned.
“It does if you want to file a report.”
“I want to get home.”
“Then Marco will drive you.”
“I have a car.”
“In this storm?”
“My car works.”
Most of the time.
The passenger window had chosen that evening to sag another inch.
I was already picturing the plastic trash bag I would tape across it in the parking lot.
Dominic studied me for half a second.
He was used to solving practical problems by throwing resources at them.
I was used to practical problems becoming personality traits.
“I’ll pay for the damage,” Elliot said suddenly.
I turned toward him.
“What damage?”
He gestured helplessly toward the cake.
“That.”
“It isn’t mine.”
“No, I mean your clothes.”
“I can wash them.”
He looked relieved, which irritated me.
“So that’s handled?”
His girlfriend laughed without humor.
“Elliot, stop talking.”
He obeyed.
My phone vibrated in my jacket.
I pulled it out.
Three missed calls from Mom.
The irritation disappeared.
I called immediately.
She answered on the second ring.
“Avery?”
“I’m here.”
“Where are you?”
Her voice sounded thin.
Too thin.
“I’m working.”
“I got dizzy getting out of the shower.”
Everything around me fell away.
“Did you fall?”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I sat down.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Avery, I know where my head is.”
On any other night, that would have made me smile.
Instead I was already moving.
“I’m coming home.”
“You don’t have to rush.”
“I’m coming home.”
I ended the call and shoved the phone into my pocket.
Dominic stepped into my path.
I stopped so abruptly the bag swung against my knee.
“Move.”
His expression changed.
“Something happened?”
“My mother needs me.”
“I’ll have someone drive you.”
“No.”
“Avery.”
The sound of my name in his mouth made me look at him.
I had never told him my name.
Not once.
Vanessa had called me delivery girl, sweetheart, you, and once, memorably, contamination risk.
Dominic had tipped me and disappeared.
I glanced toward the discarded receipt on the side table.
My first name was printed there.
That explained it.
Probably.
Then Marco returned from the security room.
He was holding a tablet.
His face had changed.
He walked directly to Dominic.
“Sir.”
Dominic looked at the screen.
“What?”
Marco lowered his voice.
“It isn’t just tonight.”
Vanessa went perfectly still.
Dominic looked up.
“What do you mean?”
Marco glanced at me before answering.
May you like
“The system flagged her face from archived exterior footage.”
He tapped the screen.
