“And it’s probably not any consolation, but ...” A strange look crosses Hari’s face, and he trails off.
“But what?”
“Someone did end up creating a virtual platform for autoimmune care. Sage is in the process of establishing an employer partnership right now.”
Meera’s blood runs cold. “Your company is working with AutoInTune?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“I have, unfortunately.” She digs her fingernails into her hand. She must control her anger, at least until she gets home. Hari just won’t understand.
And luckily, her ex doesn’t seem to notice the shift. “Well, I’m always here if you need help getting unstuck.” Lowering his voice again, he adds, “Or if you want to tell me what’s really going on here.”
Meera ignores this last part. “I appreciate it. And I appreciate you helping me out with Gracie until I get things resolved.”
“Want to stay for dinner? Jessica will be here soon. We’re making black bean burgers.”
I’d rather die,Meera thinks. She says thanks, but no thanks and gives Hari a friendly, perfunctory hug. Then she heads to Gracie’s room, where she finds her daughter performing “Popular” for the mirror above her dresser.
“Did Dad say he’s making black bean burgers for dinner?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Gracie sticks out her tongue. “Yuck.”
Meera squats down and wraps her arms around her. “I hear they taste just like real burgers if you put enough ketchup on them. And hold your nose when you take a bite.”
Her daughter pulls back and gives her a serious look. “You’ll come back for me soon?”
“Cross my heart,” Meera says. “As soon as I get things straightened out.”
“You mean once that lady stops following us?”
For a second time that night, Meera’s stomach tightens like a fist. “Did you see her?”
“No. I overheard you on the phone with Aunt Talia.” Gracie lowers her eyes. “I didn’t mean to snoop.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Meera knows for sure now that she’s making the right decision, leaving her daughter here.
“You’ll be careful?”
Meera touches her finger to Gracie’s perfect button nose. “You don’t worry about me. I’m the mom. Let me worry about you.”
“’Kay.”
As she does every time they part, Meera says, “You’ll be the last person I see when I close my eyes.”
“And you’ll be the first person I think about when I wake up,” Gracie finishes.
But that night, as she lies restless in bed—her lights off, her windows locked, her curtains drawn, her phone in her hand—Gracie’s face isn’t what she sees. Instead, she sees Townsend’s, with his fastidious coif and smug fucking grin. Even the generous glass of wine she had before bed can’t dull her rage, which has been brewing since Hari mentioned her start-up idea in his kitchen.
Because the truth is this: Townsend stole her start-up idea to create AutoInTune, and she let him get away with it.
And every time she’s reminded, she feels angry enough to lose all control.
Chapter Twenty
Townsend
