For a moment, his face shutters, the anger wiped away by something that looks a little like fear. But then it’s gone.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Corrine? It might not end well for you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I hiss. My heart is a battering ram. My thighs shake.
“It means that we value team players at Hill City. And team players don’t run crying to HR,” he says, his eyes narrowed.
“That was the wrong fucking thing to say to me,Dick.”
He leans back, making a point to let his eyes travel down my body, a sneer contorting his face. “I’ll give you a little time to rethink your choices.”
I fall back into my chair the second he’s gone. My hand shakes and cold sweat has formed at the small of my back and under my arms.
The screen blurs as I try to type out another message to Wesley.
Please come. I need you.
I don’t know what Richard truly wants from me. Other than my fear, my impotence. But I don’t feel terrified into inaction like Richard hoped. The opposite, actually.
Once my hands stop shaking, I open a new email message and start drafting.
Chapter 39: Wesley
“These aresogood,” Jer exclaims, popping another hors d’oeuvre into his mouth. The lights cast a golden glow over the crowded space. The two-piece band is loud but not enough to drown out the voices and laughter of everyone here. Everything is birch and green. The fine bone china is an ode to our mother, who loved the stuff so much she had multiple sets. The name, Amy and May’s, is a nod to her as well. Laura May Chambers would be proud of her daughter tonight.
Amy’s restaurant is packed for her launch and my chest swells with pride even though I’ve done absolutely nothing to make all of this happen.
“That’s what you said about the last one,” I laugh. Jer’s eyes get wide again as more food comes his way. He throws back the rest of his cocktail and swipes a falafel thing off a tray.
“You have to leave some food for the rest of the guests,” Amy chimes in behind us.
“I’ve been telling him,” I say, leaning into her. “I think we’re going to have to send him home soon.”
She nods.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Most likely another message from Corrine. When I saw the preview from her first text,I can’t come, I decided not to read anymore. Spiteful maybe. But after her performance in the Pit this afternoon, for her not to come anyway, I’m tired of being Corrine’s second best.
That doesn’t stop the little pool of dread that builds in my stomach as I let Corrine go unanswered.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Amy says, reaching up to hook an arm around my neck and reeling me in for a kiss on the cheek.
The dread pool gets soaked up a bit by my sister’s love. Corrine can wait awhile longer, especially since it’s clear that she’s not coming. And besides, it’s necessary. I’ve put her before Amy for too long. Maybe if Corrine were willing to return the favor it wouldn’t feel like the right move.
My phone is a dead weight in my pocket, so that I can’t truly forget about it. But I won’t check it, at least until the end of the night. I can go that long.
I think.
“This place is going to make a ton of Amy, money,” Jeremy slurs as I hold him up and Amy opens the cab’s passenger door. Laughter and music spills out of the front of the restaurants along this stretch of street. The night is so cold that just my suit feels like not enough clothes and I resist the urge to turn to Amy and say, in our mom’s practiced delivery:I told you to bring a coat.
“Okay there, buddy.” I half heave Jeremy into the back of the car and he has a hard time sitting upright. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“S’fine,” he says. “Hey. Hey.” He grabs my hand in both of his. “I’m really glad we’re hanging out again. I missed... I missed you, man.”
Ruffling his hair, I say, “I missed you, too, buddy.”
His smile is fuzzy. He turns toward the cab driver. “Excelsior, sir.”
“I think I need to talk to my bartenders about overserving,” Amy says, biting her lip and wrapping her arms around her middle.
