“Ethan Wallace,” she says, looking up at me. “He was the only intern at the event.”
A ringing sets off in my ears at that last name.
No. This can’t be.
There must be another Wallace in engineering—one who isn’t so entwined with my past.
“It can’t be him,” I say in denial.
“I can confirm that he was lingering in the backstage area before I yelled at him to get out.”
The memory of Melanie yelling at the son of the man I once worked for comes crashing back to me. The green suit. The deer-caught-in-the-headlights look before scurrying away. The missing puzzle piece is right in front of me, but I don’twantit to click in place because it’s simply “Impossible.”
“Why would Martha make up something of that caliber? The woman was pregnant, not out of her mind!” Melanie shoots me a knowing look.
A hand runs down my face, the feeling in the pit of my stomach growing heavier than it was this morning. “I was really starting to think the spark was Carter’s bidding.” I deflect the blame.
It’s not impossible with the stunt he pulled at the conference, but even Melanie seems to question that narrative when I tell her the history I share with Winston Wallace—Ethan’s father.
“Did you end on bad terms at the company?” she asks, brows pinching together.
Fuck no.There’s a reason I hired his son when his name popped up in the internship application pool.
Winston and I caught up once in a while, whether over it was the phone or a cup of coffee. I considered him a mentor. All he’s ever done is support me endlessly throughout the launch of Archer Aviation.This…would make no sense.
“I worked at his company for a couple of years after university, but we ended on good terms. We still talk. There’s no resentment or animosity.”
Melanie gives me a dry, cynical laugh. “Well, clearly there is. If it isn’t Carter behind this, it has to be someone else.”
The thought of Winston being behind it all hurts more than I could have ever imagined. Over and over again, I’m shown that it’s the people closest to you who have the power to hurt you the most. First with Carter, and now with this.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath. “What am I supposed to do?”
“First of all, fire the kid.”Agreed. “And honestly, just give Winston a call.”
The idea is so absurd that I can’t stop myself from laughing. “You want me to give the man who may have ruined my professional and personal reputation a call? Just like that?”
Melanie nods as though it’s supposedly easy.
“You’re not in the Mafia—you don’t need to hire a private investigator to find his whereabouts and weasel the information out of him through less than legal methods. So give the man a call. You guys talk once in a while; it wouldn’t seem out of the blue.”
I fall back in my chair on a sigh, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.
“Just think about it, okay?” There’s genuine sympathy in Melanie’s voice. “You aren’t losing anything by trying,” she says before gathering her stuff and walking out to leave me all alone with my thoughts.
Thoughts I don’t want to be left alone with.
Thankfully, my prayer is answered when a notification rolls in. It’s set to silent during work hours, with the exception of those important to me—my mother, my father, my sister, Grayson.
Really, it’s just close-knit family and friends—excluding Adam because every time he texts or calls, it’s never an emergency, and only ever a meme bordering on an insult.
This text, however, is courtesy of Vivienne.
With how busy we’ve both been since the conference, we haven’t had a chance to see each other, but we still text multiple times a day.
Vivienne:Look what happened!
Attached is a picture of her, forcing a smile as she holds a cracked flask with a heat-proof glove. Whatever's inside looks black, almost charred, except for a white stir bar that seems untouched.
