She purses her lips. “He agreed to do the dating-app story for me, so I’m obligated to you and him.” She waves off the topic and adds, “Enough about Jack. Tell me about your father.”
I fill her in on what I know so far and end with, “I don’t understand why my father wouldn’t just reject anything involving Big Davis?”
She grimaces. “I fear he’s trouble, Mia. I’m shocked but happy you’re going to the meeting with the attorney. I’d offer to go as well, but I’m quite sure your mother wouldn’t appreciate it.”
My brow furrows. “Why do you say that?”
“I’m not really family, and she barely tolerates her own daughter.”
I flinch and she grabs my hand. “Sorry. Raw nerve. Forget I said that. Back to the meeting. Let’s talk strategy.”
“I’m all ears. Throw me some good words.”
“Yoube the lion in the room. Make everyone in the meeting focus on how dangerous Big Davis truly can be to a positive outcome of this negotiation. I know you can do it.”
“Because I’m such a good negotiator and do it all the time?”
“Because you, my dear, are smart, and that, with the love you have for your father, is magic. Meanwhile, I’ll make some calls and see if I can find someone who has something on Big Davis we can use, but I make no promises I’ll find anything.”
“You know I don’t like to play dirty.”
“That man humiliated your father. We both know he’ll do it again if he gets the chance. He plays in the devil’s sandbox and has fun. Remember who you’re dealing with. The Bible says an eye for an eye. God told you that, not me. And no, I’m not being literal. I’m not suggesting you go poke the guy’s eye out, but my point here is that you also can’t wave a library book at him and get him to back down.”
“Then what do I do?”
“In a perfect world, this project makes him money, the attorney writes a tight contract, and everyone gets rich.”
“That’s not going to happen. This product my dad created actually hurts his other projects, or so I hear. Again, I’m back to not knowing why he doesn’t understand this potential business relationship to be the problem that it is.”
“That’s where you have to create leverage of some type. The attorney I hooked your father up with is a killer. That’s why he’s my attorney. But I’ll see what I can dig up as well. It’s important to know your opponent and know them well.”
Killer.
Does she really have to use that word right now?
Guilt stabs at me. I actually wished Big Davis dead over Kevin.
What is Adam doing to me? Who am I becoming?
Chapter Sixty-Two
Jess and I exit the coffee shop and hug goodbye, promising to chat later in the day about Big Davis. Her choice of the wordkilleris still in my head, a broken record playing over and over in which I am as guilty of killing Kevin as is Adam by simply watching and doing nothing. By remaining silent out of fear of what the consequences of telling the truth might bring upon me. But my worry isn’t about me, I justify in my mind. It’s about what Adam might do to others, to people I love and care about, to anyone at all, really. Anyone. Kevin was wiped off this earth, deemed no more important than lint on a sweater, unworthy of continuing.
It’s still early when I walk into the library, riding the escalators toward floor three and clinging to habit, to anything that feels familiar, therefore right and normal. I turn to survey what is below me now. The man that I’ve often seen on floor two is not present, but this is no surprise at this early hour; however, some part of my mind wonders for a fleeting moment if he’s Adam. I dismiss this ridiculous idea, as I’ve seen Adam. He looks nothing like the man who I swear frequents floor two and waits for me, watches for me. Also a silly concept. That man has not been here watching me. Certainly if he was he’d be on floor three where I work, anyway.
I’ve just entered the office I share with Jack when he walks in. As we do most mornings, we unburden ourselves of our personal items and then turn to face one another.
“Holy Batman,” he declares, reminding me what I don’t know how I ever forget. He’s a comic geek. “You look like Gotham on fire,” he adds.
“Is that good?” I ask, laughing despite all that is going on in my world right now. Because that’s me with Jack, I remind myself. He has a way of always making me feel lighter, better, more like myself—and right now that’s especially golden.
“Well, it’s not good if it’s actually burning down,” he explains, “but if it’s all lit up and burning bright for a hot city night, yes, it’s good. And that’s what you look like. A hot Gotham city night.”
“Well thank you,” I say. “I always wanted to look like a hot Gotham city night.”
We share a laugh I’d have thought impossible for me a few minutes ago, before he asks, “What’s with all the change?”
Lies.
