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“Cut the routine. I know you want revenge on me, but I think we can work together.”
Buffy snorts loudly. “That’s rich. After what you did to her? She built that magazine up from scratch, and you get your fuck toy to toss her out the door so you can take over.”
“Shut up,” Melanie snaps, her eyes never leaving mine. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Change your witness statement, and I’ll get you your job back.”
“I wouldn’t change it for a million bucks. Anything else?”
“Why do this? Didn’t I work hard enough for you?”
“You were lazy, Bex. That’s your problem. Couldn’t grind your way to the top, so thought you’d fuck your way there instead. Good luck and get lost.”
I watch her as she picks up her glass of champagne and takes a sip. “Anything else?” she asks.
I turn to Buffy. “You’re happy with this, are you?”
“We’re starting a new magazine together,” she replies with a sneer. “Got investors lined up. Within six months, you’ll be folding, and we’ll be back at the top where we belong. I’ll be the deputy editor. You’ll be locked up. It’ll be bliss.”
“There’s nothing I can offer you to make you change your statements? Neither of you?”
“Nothing. We saw you bring the drugs into the country, and we’ll tell the judge the same when your trial comes up. I told you I’d get you back. I meant it. Now get out of here. You’re spoiling my appetite.”
I look at the spread laid out on the table. I think back to Catherine’s empty house. I feel sick all of a sudden.
“You don’t feel guilty at all?” I ask.
“Why should I? The weak lose, and the strong win. I’m stronger than you, Bex. Survival of the fittest. That’s what it all comes down to.”
My phone rings in my handbag. I reach in. Hunter’s calling me at last. I can’t hang up on him. I have to take the call.
I get up from the table, walking outside before I answer. I don’t get a chance to get a word in. “Alicia is at the George Reynolds Nature Reserve,” he says. “I saw you took the Jeep out. There’s a GPS in the glove box. From Caviar Palace, it’s thirty minutes. Go pick her up and take her home.”
The line goes dead.
Wow, I think to myself. Is this what married life is with him? Being tracked where I go and having orders barked at me? What a life.
I try to call him back, but he switched his phone off.
I get in the car, rummaging in the glove box. There is a GPS unit in there. It’s underneath a gun.
I do my best to ignore the weapon, plugging in the GPS and typing in the name of the nature reserve. A thirty-minute drive from where I am.
38
Bex
* * *
There’s a clunking sound from underneath the car as I change lanes. A whomp whomp as the tire turns. The steering shifts to the left, and I fight to bring it onto the shoulder, horns blaring as cars race by me. I get out and take a look. A flat. Fantastic.
I walk around to the back to look for a spare before realizing I am still trying to figure out what to do with it, if there is one.
I’m not sure what to do. I’m supposed to be picking Alicia up. I don’t know if she’s there alone or if the wedding party is there, or what. I have no idea where Hunter is. I try to call him again, but his phone is still off.
I call for a cab, deciding it’s better to leave the broken-down car here than be late picking Alicia up.
The cab firm promises me five minutes, but it’s more than twenty before the driver finally pulls up. “I remember you,” he says, squinting through his glasses. “You’re the girl pissed at her boss.”
