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A sudden shock went through me and the phone almost slipped from my face. It’s Will’s Dad. “Oh! Yes, well, I was just trying to help.”
“Well, I hope you’re still willing to help because William desperately needs it. He will meet the victims’ families tomorrow.”
“That’s great!”
“Actually, Ms. Porter, it isn’t.”
The smile vanished from my face when I heard his icy tone.
“He’s in no shape to visit them. What I want you to do is to accompany him. There will be media there and we need to present William as a stable, well-adjusted adult in a healthy relationship. Support him, but above all,prevent him from doing anything stupid.”
I could hear the panic rumbling in his voice. He was frightened that Will would say something that would damage the company’s reputation.
“Why didn’t he ask me himself?”
“He does not know that I am calling you. I am worried about my son, Ms. Porter, and I know what you said to my wife about him. I am allowing this to happen only because every other attempt to help him has failed. You will be well compensated for your trouble.”
“I don’t want your money."
He sighed. “I need some kind of assurance you’ll do this.”
The static crackled on the other end. I knew that I wouldn’t take his money, but perhaps there was something else he could do. “Settle with Luke and I’ll do it.”
There was silence.
“That’s none of your business.”
I cringed from the bite in his words. “Those are my terms.”
“Why does it even matter to you?”
“Luke is my friend. He helped Will, too, you know. He bailed him out of jail when he could have let him rot there.”
“Sitting in a cell for a few days is exactly what my son needs. Goodbye, Ms. Porter.”
“Wait!” I yelled before he could hang up, my heart pounding rather fast. “I’ll do it, but I don’t want your money.”
“I think so, especially when this entire mess could have been avoided if he never met you. The car will be at your apartment at eight tomorrow. Do not be late.”
The smile in his voice made me feel like I had been duped. “Okay."
“Oh, and Ms. Porter?”
My heart quickened. “Yes?”
“You’re a terrible negotiator. Goodbye.”
Mr. Pardini hung up before I could squeak out another word.
* * *
My pale, anxious face stared at me through the mirror. I picked up the brush and buffed my cheeks with blush.
Should I put my hair up or down?
I twisted my hair into a knot I piled on top of my head and studied myself. Too severe. I should look friendly. I let my hair fall down and winced at my reflection.
It was like getting ready for piano recitals when I was a kid. I knew I hadn’t practiced and that it would be an utter disaster, but I went anyways because my parents expected it of me. I felt the same way about today.
