Chương 4
Nobody asked Ruth what she wanted.
The Northstar delegation waited twenty-seven minutes, then left through the garage.
Simon sent one message to Elias.
Call me when you are capable of conducting business.
Elias did not call.
He stood in the executive suite overlooking the lobby while maintenance workers polished away the last traces of water. The dented bucket had been removed, but a darker patch remained where moisture had seeped between marble tiles.
Maya entered without knocking.
“The employee deleted his original post,” she said. “It makes no practical difference. He says he thought it was beautiful.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jamal Price. Nineteen. Banquet setup. He’s crying in Luis’s office because security told him he may be terminated.”
“I told them nobody gets fired.”
“You told Denise not to discipline Ruth. Security received no instruction about Jamal.”
Elias turned from the window. “Then fix it.”
“I have.”
Maya placed the charcoal folder on his desk. The merger documents inside were tabbed in blue, yellow, and red.
“Simon has called three board members,” she said. “The board wants an emergency meeting at three.”
“I’ll meet them tomorrow.”
“They’re meeting today whether you attend or not.”
“I found the woman who saved my life.”
“Yes.”
“My father lied to me.”
“Possibly.”
“He paid her to keep quiet.”
“According to Ruth. We need records.”
“You think she’s lying?”
“I think facts survive longer when we don’t make them depend entirely on one person’s memory.”
He looked at her.
Maya held his gaze. “That includes your memory.”
Elias disliked being corrected when he was already ashamed. It was one of the characteristics he knew about himself and had made little effort to change.
“You heard her.”
“I did.”
“You saw the scar.”
“I did.”
“Then why do you sound like corporate counsel?”
“Because somebody has to keep you from turning a private woman into a public monument before we know what happened.”
He picked up the folder and threw it onto the sofa. Papers slid across the cushions.
Maya watched them settle.
“That felt useful?” she asked.
“No.”
“Good.”
His phone vibrated again. Six missed calls from board members. Two from Simon. Eleven from numbers he did not recognize. One message from his former wife, Claire.
Are you all right?
He locked the screen without answering.
“What do we know about Ruth?” he asked.
“She has worked here eighteen months through Brightline Facilities, our cleaning contractor. No disciplinary record. Two absences last winter for pneumonia. She rents an apartment in South Philadelphia. She has a daughter in New Jersey and a grandson at Temple.”
“How did you get that so quickly?”
“Human resources keeps records.”
“Contractors keep records. We keep distance.”
Maya did not deny it.
“Get her off the contractor payroll,” Elias said. “Hire her directly. Full benefits. Retroactive seniority.”
“Without asking her?”
“She needs protection.”
“She asked to buy eggs and go home.”
“She cannot go home. Reporters will find her.”
“They probably already have.”
“Then put her in a suite.”
Maya rubbed her forehead with one finger. “Elias.”
“What?”
“You are doing exactly what she accused you of doing.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“You’re assigning value, changing her employment, and deciding where she sleeps.”
“What would you suggest?”
“I would suggest asking her.”
Elias went quiet.
Below them, guests crossed the lobby as though nothing had happened. A bellman steadied a pile of luggage. A child dragged one hand along a marble column until his father pulled him away. Near the café, an elderly man tore a sweetener packet with his teeth.
The ordinariness irritated Elias.
He had always assumed that when a life changed, the surrounding world should at least have the decency to pause.
“Where is she now?” he asked.
“In Luis’s office. She refused the suite. She also refused the car. She says she’s taking the bus.”
“Reporters are outside.”
“I mentioned that.”
“And?”
“She said reporters can ride the bus too.”
Despite himself, Elias laughed once.
The sound startled him.
Maya picked up the scattered merger pages and restored them to the folder. “You should answer Claire.”
“How do you know she called?”
“You look at her messages differently.”
“That’s intrusive.”
“I manage your face for a living.”
She carried the folder to the door.
“Maya.”
She turned.
“Find the settlement.”
“I’ve already asked archives for the Belmont’s legal files.”
“Not just the settlement. Everything from the fire.”
“That may take time.”
“Then use more people.”
“People you employ are currently watching a video in which you weep on a janitor’s hand. They may not all approach the assignment neutrally.”
He sat at his desk.
“Find someone who will.”
Ruth’s apartment was on the second floor of a narrow brick building above a closed travel agency. The building’s outer door did not latch unless it was pulled hard. Elias learned this after standing in the rain for thirty seconds while two photographers shouted questions from across the street.
Maya had persuaded Ruth to accept a ride only after a news van followed the city bus for four blocks. Ruth sat in the back seat between Elias and a bag of cleaning supplies she had refused to leave at the hotel.
“You don’t have to come upstairs,” she told him.
“I know.”
“You keep doing things you know you don’t have to do.”
“I’m beginning to notice.”
Her apartment smelled of onions, furniture polish, and the eucalyptus ointment she used on her hands. A crocheted blanket covered the back of the sofa. Three unopened envelopes sat beneath a ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter. The only framed photograph showed Ruth with a younger woman and a tall teenage boy in a basketball uniform.
Ruth placed the bag of supplies beside the door.
“You can sit,” she said.
Elias looked at the sofa.
“It won’t stain the suit.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“You looked worried.”
May you like
Maya sat first.
Ruth’s kitchen had two chairs. Elias took one, and Ruth remained standing until Maya moved to the sofa. Then Ruth sat opposite him and removed the damaged glove.
