Rick shrugged. “Why do people do eighty percent of this shit they do? Money,” he answered his own question.
I leaned in closer. “I have more money than I could spend in a lifetime. Deborah knows she has access to more wealth than she could ever imagine. She doesn’t even have to ask, so why would she betray me just for money?” Not to mention the fact that she hardly ever showed much of an interest in money. She continued to work at her full-time job as diligently as she had before we married, and she was adamant about not quitting, either. The very notion that I would demand she quit once we were married completely freaked her out.
“Hell, we all need more money. She’s a chick—”
“Woman. Don’t ever fucking refer to my wife as achickagain.”
Rick stared at me, unflinching before slowly nodding. “Woman. She’s awomanin corporate America. And she’s from Beattyville, Kentucky at that. Deep down somewhere, she’s gotta believe it’s all a dream or that one day it’ll all blow up in her face. Maybe this thing with Cohen is her way of cashing in before that happens. A sort of insurance policy, if you will. Or maybe she’s truly in love with him and will do—”
“Don’t fucking finish.”
Rick’s words halted on the spot.
I shook my head. “This isn’t right. Something’s not adding up. My wife isn’t involved.”
“Look, I’ve worked with plenty of spouses who refused to believe their—”
“I don’t give a damn about any of them. My wife, Deborah Townsend,isn’tinvolved in this shit.” I slapped the opened file and papers before pushing it all back across the table toward Rick. “Keep digging and come back to me with the truth or I’ll find someone who will!”
I stood up so abruptly, I knocked my own chair over. Buttoned my suit jacket while staring down at Rick, threw a couple of bills on the table to cover the tab, and wordlessly walked out of the diner.
****
“What?” I answered the buzzing phone on my desk, pissed off from my early morning meeting with Rick. It was just after noon and I still hadn’t calmed down.
“Mr. Townsend, you have a call from a Jack Lassiter. Shall I patch him through?” My secretary, Cindy questioned, in the neutral, professional tone she always used.
My eyes lifted as I rose from my chair and stared at the far wall of my office.
“He says he’s a friend from college,” Cindy continued, mistaking my silence for my trying to recall the name.
“No. Yes, yes, I know Jack well. Put him through.”
A few seconds later, the phone beeped and I heard, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to tell your secretary to put me through, take a message or just hang up on me.”
I grunted. “What are you calling about, Jack?”
There was a moment of hesitation on the other end. “Well, uh, I recognize the last time we talked, I was rude and a bit of an ass to you and Deborah. I was thinking we could possibly have lunch together and catch up. There are some things I’ve been meaning to say to you.”
“Is that right?” I rocked back on my heels, still standing and staring at the far wall in my office.
“Yes.”
“That’s good, Jack, because there are some things I’ve wanted to discuss with you as well. I have a lunch meeting today, but are you available this time tomorrow?”
“Yeah sure, buddy. I’ll meet you at the Crown Jewel. My treat.”
My frown deepened. I hated his use of the wordbuddybut I kept my composure, in spite of myself. “I’ll see you there.”
I hung up the phone, still staring off into space. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. My instincts were in overdrive. The conversation I’d had that morning with Rick played over and over in my head. Something big was coming. I could feel it in my body. I glanced down at the picture on the corner of my desk. It was of Deborah and I the night we got married. I lifted the frame to stare at it more closely. In the picture, Deborah was laughing, mouth wide, eyes staring up into mine with her arms thrown around my neck. I had the biggest smile on my face as I gazed down into her blue orbs, my arms locked around her waist. It was a completely candid photo. Not one that had been posed for. A raw, real moment that we shared moments after promising one another forever.
I placed the photo down when my phone rang. I lifted it to my ear, to hear Cindy informing me that the person I’d scheduled my lunch meeting with had arrived. I instructed her to send them to the conference room where the catered lunch had already been set up. After that, I took the time to gather my files, phone my father to let him know the meeting was set to begin, and then proceeded to head out. I took one last look at my wife and I. The twisting that occurred in my gut nearly had me doubling over.
Rick’s words and photos were still running rampant through my brain.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Then
