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“That’s what he’s doing now. He’s leaking stuff to the press, he’s making sure he’s being seen putting in the work for the fund so it looks like business as usual. Whether you like it or not, it’s not just Enzo’s money at stake, it’s the hundreds of investors and the companies that all that money is invested in. It’s not just about you and him.”
Groaning, I sit up. “Please stop making sense.”
Her cell phone rings on the table. “Huh, it’s the front desk. Hello?” She looks at me. “Adam Singer?” I nod. “We’re in Dante’s condo if you can direct him, please.”
“What the hell does he want?” I wonder as I scramble off the couch. I’m in yoga pants and a T-shirt I’ve stolen from Enzo. Taking out my ponytail, I run my fingers through my hair then make a tighter, cleaner ponytail.
A ping sounds from somewhere above us. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”
Seconds later the doorbell sounds. I go into the foyer. When I open the door, the change in Adam from the last time I saw him is a shock: he looks like he hasn’t slept or changed clothes since that dinner.
He swallows. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I needed to talk to you.”
Nodding, I open the door. Bethany is at my back. “This is my sister-in-law, Bethany Sabatini.”
A bobbing nod at Bethany is all he gives before looking at me again. “I want to start by apologizing. Honestly, I had no intention, not a single one, of attempting to capitalize on what you let slip at dinner. I swear. Then the more I thought about it, the more Russell wouldn’t let it drop, I let my imagination run away from me. There was also the way he kept pressing me, I became more...I don’t know, stupid about how valuable the information was. He wouldn’t let it go and believe I wasn’t going to use it. Wondering out loud if Enzo could get me a job or reference, that was all it was, wondering what I could ask for.
“It didn’t mean I was going to. It was like holding a lottery ticket right before you look to see if you’ve won, vaguely wondering what it could get you. Russell is more important to me than all of that but he, he thought I was serious. He broke up with me. He won’t believe me. I need someone to believe me. I’ll sign something swearing I’ll never talk about it. Anything you or Enzo want, I’ll do it.”
I want to hug him and slap him at the same time. “You idiot.”
Nodding, he brushes tears from his eyes. “Do you think there’s any chance Russell will ever forgive me?”
He’s down too low for me to kick him further by telling him I highly doubt it. Instead I invite him in for tea and to figure out how to put his promise into legal form.
***
Enzo
The jet has barely landed when my cell goes off. It’s Dante. “Yeah.”
“You on time?”
“Yeah, damn. It needs a refuel but there’s no one in front of you. You’ll be ready to take off in an hour. You ready?”
“Hell, yes. The sooner I get there the sooner I can get back. Have I congratulated you lately on picking Chloe?”
“What about Chloe?”
“She didn’t tell you? Interesting. The guy you were worried about came by the condo last night a sniveling mess over Russell breaking up with him. Dude swears he didn’t mean it, he was just wondering, not intent on blackmail or anything. Chloe got your firm lawyer on the phone, got an NDA drafted and filed
yesterday. You can stop flying all around kingdom come to prove anything.”
Fuck, I’m so immersed in what Dante is saying, I walk right past my car. Everett has to grab me by the arm and pull me back toward the car. “When did all this happen?”
“Yesterday, I said that. She got it done before I got home for dinner.”
So before I texted her I was on schedule for arrival today. Why the hell didn’t she tell me?
I barely pay attention as Dante ends the call. I’m supposed to head to the office but I want to see Chloe, now. Fuck. Four whole days without her and I was in agony. Sunday night, I slept on the couch in Che’s old office. I hated it; having Chloe so close, but not sleeping with her, was physically painful. But I couldn’t. Anger still filled me, and I didn’t trust myself to touch her when I was angry. There’s a difference between anger and passion and she’s too damn small; fear filled me at what could happen to her. The idea of hurting her scared the shit out of me. I refused to take the chance until I could rid myself of the anger. It was the main reason I got the hell out of Chicago.
My head goes back as I close my eyes, remembering the pain in Chloe’s eyes, how it was stamped all over her face. The way she told me she couldn’t look at me. I hate the way I hurt her, except even then the anger simmered at the edge of me, so I did what I could do: I walked away. And I’ve regretted it ever since.
As the day ticks down I check the clock often, counting down to the time when I can see Chloe again. I text her:
Will you be ready to leave at five tonight?
I’m about to lose it when she finally responds.
