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I hold her close to my chest and breathe her in. “I love you too. Take it easy today, babe.”
“Got it.” She pulls away and salutes me, making me chuckle.
“She good?” Royce asks once we’re on the elevator.
“I’m not sure. Something feels off to me. She’s not acting like herself.”
“She’s not feeling good.”
“I know, but it feels like more than that.”
“Maybe she found the ring?”
“No. It’s in the safe. Hell, I don’t even know if she knows that the safe is there. I rarely use it. It has my passport and things like that. She doesn’t have one, so I didn’t have to store hers for her.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Marshall and Sawyer will take care of her today. Like she said, she will have the weekend to rest if it’s still there. If I know you, you’ll make sure she does.”
“Damn right,” I agree.
“Hopefully, we can get these contracts signed today and get this deal done. I’m tired of dealing with these people.”
“You’re not the only one. We’ve put a lot of resources and time into this deal. I’m ready for it to be finished and off our plate.”
“Right on.”
The rest of the drive we talk about the deal, and what’s next for Riggins. We’ve opened several new hubs all over the United States, and we want to keep growing. Riggins Enterprises is our family’s legacy. I know that all five of us wish to one day pass it onto our kids like our father did with us. Well, I know Royce and I, and I’m sure the others will too, once they settle down and really start to think about their future beyond what’s going on that weekend.
As soon as we pull into the lot, I send Layla a text.Me: We just got here. How are you feeling?Layla: Better. Do your thing, Riggins. I promise I’m fine.Me: I love you.Layla: I love you too.I slide my phone into the pocket of my suit jacket and climb out of the SUV. Time to put on my CFO hat and get this done.Chapter 26LaylaMy stomach rolls with a mix of guilt and nausea. The images that are locked in my bottom desk drawer make me want to be sick, and of course, there’s the truth that I’m keeping from Owen. I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not giving into my mother’s demands, but those pictures…. I place my hand on my stomach, hoping that will ward off the nausea. I don’t know how she got those pictures. Pictures of me in my apartment in Florida, and at our home in Indiana. Pictures of me in the shower, of me in my room. Naked pictures. My own mother was spying on me, and she said I was making her money.
Is she selling them?
I have to swallow back the bile that creeps up in my throat.
I can’t bring all of this on Owen. His family. They’re good people, and they don’t need the bad publicity that this is sure to bring their family or Riggins Enterprises. The thought of hurting them tears me up inside. Even more so, the thought of walking away from Owen because of my vile mother has me an emotional mess. I can’t do it. I won’t give her money, and I don’t want to walk away from Owen or his family, or this job. I just need some time to figure out how to beat her at her own game. I need some time to try and stop her.
Maybe I could go to the police?
No, that’s not an option. The entire situation would be plastered all over the six o’clock news.
“Think, Layla, think,” I mumble under my breath.
“You doing all right?” Marshall asks, startling me.
“You scared me,” I say, placing my hand over my chest.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “How you feeling?”
I sigh. “That brother of yours told you to check up on me, didn’t he?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“I know he is. I’m fine, Marshall. I promise. I just have a headache that doesn’t seem to want to go away today.” Probably because my mother is trying to blackmail me, but I keep that to myself.
“Can I get you anything?”
I smile at him. “No, but thank you.”
“All right, I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Thank you, Marshall.” He nods and turns to head back to his office. I can’t concentrate, and part of it is the headache that my mother has caused. It’s just a waiting game now. Every single time the phone rings, I jump, and fear grabs a hold of me, thinking it will be her.
I manage to spend the morning getting caught up on emails and rescheduling a few meetings. It’s not much, but at least it’s something. When the phone rings a few minutes before noon, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. It’s her.
