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“What happened to her? No updates yet.”
I keep the anguish and relief out of my voice, as if this woman is nothing to me. Just dry statements. If Cress’ name is released, they’ll know along with the rest of the world. I’ll face those recriminations later. Right now, my cup more than runneth over.
“She was rescued in a village outside Paris. Police killed the kidnappers.”
The sound of a sigh gusts into my ears. “That’s good news. We’re glad you’ll be home tomorrow. The world is a dangerous place, and you’ll be safer here.”
Sam’s text threats belie that sentiment. I don’t mention them or the phone call. No point in adding to the angst billowing through the phone in waves.
“What flight will you be on? We can pick you up at the airport.”
“Not coming home right away,” I mumble.
What sounds like static on the line is Mom panting. She must be back from walking the neighbor’s dog. “Speak up, darling. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I’m not coming home right away.” My chest contracts and my throat constricts as silence greets my response—and then the volcano erupts.
“What do you mean you aren’t coming home tomorrow? Are you in the hospital? Or are the police making you stay as a witness?” Dad’s shoutiness makes my ears ring.
Underneath, like a bass line, I hear Mom ask, “Are you staying in Paris?”
“What about work?” Dad asks the $50,000 question.
“Rebecca told me to keep working remotely.”
“Was this before or after the ‘incident’?”
“Before. All the partners will be at some kind of retreat for a week, so no one will be in the office to impress.”
“Wouldn’t you be going if you were there?”
“No. It’s just the partners.” They don’t need to know about Hayden’s coup, going as the assistant.
I glance at JL. His jaw tightens and there is a noticeable tick in his cheek.
“May as well stay over there then.”
“JL’s concerned about my safety, so I’m going to Vancouver with him. He has to visit his mom. Then he can come back to Chicago with me.”
I put the phone on the table, prop my chin in my hands, and gaze into heavily fringed, bottomless dark brown orbs that twinkle at me as if he’s managed to capture the Milky Way in their depths.
A rumble from the phone makes me spring out of my seat like a jack-in-the-box. Dad’s impatience is legendary.
“How wonderful. I hear Vancouver is very beautiful. This certainly takes your relationship up a notch, or three.” Mom’s fizzing like she’s Dom Pérignon and someone just popped her cork.
“Alice, calm down. This might not mean anything, Maybe JL really is just concerned about Micki traveling alone.” Dad has gotten quiet, like he doesn’t want JL to hear his misgivings.
“I didn’t think of that, Des.” Mom has gone from ebullient to deflated in less than sixty seconds.
“Got to go,” I tell them, then switch off the phone, turn to the man offering me support and bury my face in his buttery soft Chicago Fire sweatshirt.
He whispers against my hair, “Tout va bien se passer, ma chouette. Ne pleut pas, ma chère.”
I understand about a third of that but get the gist. A deep moan escapes. “Sorry, I should have told you about work.”
“I wondered why you changed your mind about Vancouver. Now everything makes sense.”
I can’t help a cry of anguish. “Yeah, well, what you don’t know is Hayden is going to the retreat. Rebecca keeps intimating I need to have a backup plan—ideally a new job to go to when Hayden gets the partnership. Everything is so screwed up.”
