Amelia thrust the crumpled business card into Martin’s clammy hand and turned to leave. She had even managed a few brisk steps, but the boom of his voice stopped her.
“Emory Holt.”
Amelia’s pulse pounded in her ears. She should have walked away but turned around instead. Martin downed the rest of his champagne with an annoyed flick of his wrist.
“I see that name rings a bell.” Pleased as punch, he grinned and ambled toward her. “Burt destroyed the folder. That means you’re the only person alive who knows what was inside it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“If I were Emory, I’d want to know what was in that folder. His private jet landed at PDX this afternoon.” Martin hovered close, the booze thick on his breath. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Emory Holt is coming tonight. Dollars to donuts, he’ll be dying to meet you.”
FIVE
AMELIA
Amelia fled along the wall of grotesque art and reached a less visible pocket off the great room—a sunroom that overlooked the estate’s manicured gardens.
Anger coursed through her and settled in her belly with a resounding ache. She never wanted any part of her father’s world. He forced her into the internship.But you agreed.He put her in an impossible position.You could’ve said no.
With shaky hands, she groped in her purse for her phone. She needed to leave before Emory Holt arrived and the storm did its worst. Amelia dug past a tube of lip gloss and her wallet. The purse was suspiciously light. She pried it open and surveyed its insides.
No phone. At home. On the charger.
Fuck.
It was too late. The storm arrived with a rumble of thunder, and a familiar face cut through the crowd. It was typical of Brian Burrows to come for closure at a time like this. Amelia’s childhood friend, he lived next door to Richard but rarely attended the gala. Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and Chucks, he conceded only a black suit jacket for the occasion.
“Hey,” he said with a smile that used to give her butterflies andsmoothed a fall of loose brown curls from his eyes. “I hoped I’d see you here. It’s been a minute.”
“Yes, it has,” Amelia agreed with a stiff smile, though forced platitudes were reserved for strangers. She’d known Brian before memory and relied on her parents to tell her all the adorable things they’d done together as toddlers.
As Brian summoned something to say, Amelia scanned the crowd for a natural exit. The party was too dense, though, and the dance floor packed with guests.
“Can I borrow your phone? I need to text my mom.”
“Sure.” Brian unlocked his phone and handed it over. “I didn’t know if you’d already left town.”
“I leave Sunday,” Amelia replied offbeat as she tapped a hasty message.
its Amelia meet me out front we need to go
“Sunday,” Brian repeated, vaguely dispirited as Amelia returned his phone. He never could commit to a feeling. “I meant to reach out, but time just…”
“Vanished.”
And so had he.
Last summer had sizzled with balmy heat against bare limbs, swinging on the hammock with his hand up her shirt. They’d shared soft kisses in velvet moonlight, and her clothes had ended up on his bedroom floor.
The connection had faded with the fall, as most things do, and reality had chilled with a cold snap. They were better off as friends. At least, that’s what he’d said and Amelia agreed, but her heart had broken bigger than she let on.
She’d mostly mourned the loss of her senses, that she’d conflated the comfort of a true friend with the intimacy of great love. Brian wasn’t her great love, so she’d moved on and he hadn’t even noticed.
“Arizona. I feel like I might never see you again.” Brian stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I’m sure Portland has editing jobs too, you know.”
Amelia firmly shook her head. Every goodbye landed like a ployto make her stay. It only ignited the instinct to flee and forget the nightmarish interlude. Something nagged with screaming urgency to leave and that perhaps she was already too late.
“I can’t stay here, Brian,” Amelia whispered beneath the jovial thrum of conversation around them. Thunder boomed and rain lashed the windows. “I have to go. The sooner, the better.”
