A tiny pause before her voice turns firmer.“We lead busy lives, dear. Sometimes messages get muddled. It’s only a social outing.”
“Right,” I hum. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to delete Bea’s name from any guest list you marshal. You’ll stop trying to barter her off for your recognition. You’ll also refrain from contacting her about appearances, alliances, or your personal PR. She’s not your currency.”
“You must be joking,”she says, dropping her voice to ice.“You have no standing here.”
“I have standing everywhere,” I say simply. “And I’m done being polite. Keep pressing, and I pull your family trust’s filings for the last ten years and drop them in the laps of three forensic accountants who love dissecting shell companies for dessert. I reroute event catering and cut your donor lines at every gala you attend. I’m not bluffing, Mrs. Wrong. I have time and a rage problem. Tell your husband I said hello.”
“Are you threatening me? We will pull our shares back! Say goodbye to your company.”
“Good luck with that. I will make sure I call a certain society we both know to release the dirt they’ve collected on you. I go to the same club with one of their founding members—Dante Masters. Have you heard of him?”
Her heavy breathing is my answer. High New York society can do a lot, but what they can’t do is step on the feet of a different society, one that prefers to stay underground, and I’m a lucky bastard who became friends with one of its members.
Her silence on the other end curdles. I don’t fill it. I let the threat breathe between us until she tastes it.
“We’ll be in touch,”she says frostily.
“No, you won’t,” I reply, and hang up before she can wind herself into another presidential speech.
When I get into my car, my phone buzzes again. Masters with a celebratory skull emoji and a photo of Larry holding ice to his face. I have no idea how he got the picture so fast and prefer not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I pocket the phone and gun the car.
I planned on stopping by Mom’s place, but I don’t think I’ll make it back to the airport in this traffic. So I dial her number.
“Hi, Mom, I’ll be gone for a few days. Aide’s on the way. Ezra has keys. Schedule’s on the fridge.” I’m talking too fast, and she laughs back.
“Don’t be a jerk when you apologize.”
I clear my throat. “How do you know?—?”
“That you are going after that girl or that you’ll end up saying something offensive to her?”
“Both, I guess.” I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.
“We both know the answer to that.”Her laughter is light and genuine, a sound I don’t hear very often.“I like that girl. I think she’s very good for you.”
“She is, Mom.”
“Then go get her.”
I’m sitting in the middle seat on a three-rower at the back of the plane, and I’ve never been happier. I also don’t think I’ve ever flown economy before, but no lack of space for knees nor the onion-breathing neighbor to my right can dampen my cheerful mood.
Because I’m on my way to get my girl back.
46
CHAPTER 46
Bea
The hotelI booked leaves much to be desired. I came to this conclusion rather quickly due to the bedbugs I found under the mattress and the moldy hair balls I spotted in the corner of the bathroom. But it’s all I could afford, so I won’t be complaining. I also won’t be sleeping in that bed. I spent last night outside in a hammock by the beach, and I slept fabulously.
I decide to make the hammock my new personality. Sure, I’m a buffet for mosquitos and my hair is doing a very specific frizz dance in the humid air, but the sky is the bluest thing I’ve seen since I moved to New York and the warm ocean waters look very inviting.
I spend the morning pretending I know how to be an island person. I drink coffee that tastes as if it was filtered through a sock. I walk the beach with a paperback I do not read. I considerjoining a boat tour and then remember I don’t have money to spare for activities.
By noon, I’m sweaty, calmer, and maybe a little proud that I haven’t cried once today. Fine, twice. Fine, three times, but only because a gecko blinked at me funny.
I head back to my hammock with a mango I aggressively wrestled from a vendor who thought I needed help choosing ripe fruit.I’ve been around the block, honey. I can manage my own mango.
