I’m struggling to believe this. It sounds like a play. “Oh? What conclusion did you come to?”
“That I understand.”
In that moment, I wasn’t sure I did. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know how well Vicky knows you, Alex, but I know you pretty damn well.”
“Uh-huh.” My interest fades. I’m not interested in her games. Not today, not when Fournier’s given me only a week to solve whatever mess Vicky has got herself into. Why it’s an issue, I’m not yet certain. Who cares about some random construction company’s expense issues?
She’s lying to you, the paranoid part of me suggests.
No, she’s not. Vicky doesn’t lie—not to me.
Is that fact, or blind obsession?
It’s fact, I tell myself, ignoring that’s what blind obsession would say.
Rita’s voice pulls me from my musings. “You’re more popular than ever,” she continues, her voice lower. “Your star’s ascending. Theheadof the wholeCompanyinvited you to his house. Yet you’re constantly distracted. Do you know howdangerousthat is?” Her gaze locks on mine, and she has my undivided attention now. “What’s going on, Alex?”
“Why do you want to know?” And can I trust whatever answer she gives me?
“I don’t,” she replies simply. “I just want to know that youdo.” Her eyes narrow. “Do you?”
In light of that question, it takes me longer than it should to compose my features.
She suspects. No, she knows. Even if she didn’t before, my reaction just told her.
Rita’s too damn sharp not to put the pieces together.
“That’s what I thought,” she says. “Something’s amiss, and you’re endangering not only everything you’ve worked for here, but…” She swallows. “…me too.”
Rita reminds me often enough that I’m supposedly intelligent. I don’t feel very sharp right now. I’m distracted, worried—to use her word. Not just for myself, but for Vicky, too. Because as always, Rita’s right. Fournier won’t accept less than answers, and I don’t have any. Not for Vicky, not for myself, and not for whatever she’s done to attract Van Wyk’s attention.
That’s not all of it.
I know damn well that I’m now in bed with the devil. Greenstone, the whole Company, fingers left on a table in a pool of blood. The man who said no to Fournier andisn’tin his inner circle. He’s dead, and so is his wife.
If I can’t find out if Vicky’s up to something, and she is, she’ll be killed.
If there’s a hint of failure from me, we’llbothbekilled. Fournier won’t stop at a finger, not when I’ve already refused him. He made that clear.
Strangely, it’s Vicky losing her life that bothers me more than losing my own. She didn’t let herself get dragged into this; it was all on me.
Rita’s said nothing more, and I haven’t spoken. The silence is damning.
She knows she’s got me over a barrel.
“What is it you want?” I ask.
“That’s the funny thing,” she replies, like she anticipated the question. “I used to want your success. Now, I want your happiness. And hand-in-hand with that, your safety.” She tilts her head, the subtle move making her long dark hair ripple. “If you play with fire…”
“Is it me you’re worried for, or yourself?”
“I’ll admit, after I walked out of that session with DeLuca, it was me.” Her gaze is steady as she holds mine. “But now it’s you.”
If she’s lying, she’s damn good. I can’t tell.
But then I know she’s damn good. I employed her.
