Page 121 of The Price of Passion


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Amazing how a little time and space could clarify a perspective.

I’d gotten caught up in the New York rat race. And while returning home in the midst of my mother’s relapse was not what I would call agood time, I needed to touch base with my homeland.

Not permanently. Just to reorient, regroup, and then return to my chosen path.

Kendra called me on my way from the airport. I’d hired a ride share instead of renting a car, because Damian hadn’t been lying—the severance package was more than generous, and I could survive another year in New York on that alone if I scrimped and split rent with Kendra.

“Hey, you miss me already?” I teased after picking up.

“The apartment feels empty without you,” she said. “When are you coming back?”

“In a week, most likely. Unless everyone convinces me to stay a little longer. Which, now that I’m unemployed…I could.”

“Well, I wish I could tell you this in person. But this can’t wait.”

I watched the Kentucky landscape roll by as we made it past the city limits. Wooden fences, some ramshackle, some pristinely white or black, lined sprawling pastures, horses grazing lazily. “Tell me. I have to know.”

“I got some more information about the informant for the article,” she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial hush. “The editor wouldn’t give up any names, but I did some digging of my own. I checked the security logs from the past four weeks, and Francis’s name appears once in our records here.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, dizziness overcoming me. “Oh my God. So itwashim.”

“We at least know he was in the building,” Kendra assured me. “I can’t say much more than that. But we can draw our own conclusions from there.”

“Thank you,” I gushed. “Oh, this is such a relief. I know it’s not the cold hard evidence I need, but it’ssomething, and that’s better than nothing.”

“You got it. I’ll see you when you get back.”

I hung up the phone, all smiles for the rest of the drive. Jeremy had been so upset about what had happened with the Fairchilds; he’d be happy to hear this turn of events. It still didn’t prove without a doubt it was Francis, but it at least cast some suspicion onto him and off of me.

I needed to tell someone from the Fairchild camp about what I’d learned. But it couldn’t be Damian—not after what went down. I was also hesitant to call Axel, since I knew he’d probably been involved in the decision to fire me. Trace was probably still in Bali, so who did that leave?

Cora.

I called her just as the ride share turned into my brother’s winding, spaced out neighborhood. Plastic reindeer dotted the front yards of a couple houses, some of them toppled from the wind. Green garland wrapped around porch railings; big wreaths dotted with ornaments on front doors. The holiday sights tugged at me in a strange way as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Cora answered breathily, and I wondered what I’d interrupted.

“Hi, Cora. Please don’t hang up.” I winced, suddenly second-guessing myself. The entire Fairchild crew probably hated me, and here I was calling Cora like an idiot.

“Why would I hang up?”

“I just…I don’t know how you...feel…” I swallowed hard, at a loss for words. “I just need you to give Damian a message for me. Well, Axel and Damian. I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate to call them after they fired me.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry about what happened.” She paused. “I actually wanted to reach out toyoubut was kind of hesitant for the same reasons.” Her nervous laugh took some of the edge off.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I have a friend who’s opening a boutique, and she really wants to feature some up-and-coming designers. I recommended you, and I was hoping to connect you two soon.”

Tears came to my eyes, and I clamped a hand over my mouth as the car slowed to a stop outside Jeremy’s house. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. I love your designs. I just want to make sure we proceed with tact, I suppose.”

“Yes, yes. We’ll be tactful. So tactful.” The words were pouring out of me now, my heart beating like I’d run a mile. “Oh my gosh. I can barely remember why I called. You’ve made my day. Thank you, Cora. Please, count me in for anything.”

Her throaty laughter was a strange comfort. I missed these people. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they weremypeople.

“Now, what did you want to talk about?” she asked.

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