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“I honestly think I just have a thing for people with shitty fathers,” he adds, making me jerk my head up, carefully placing the mug back onto the table. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Violet?” I ask in a low voice.
“Shitty, deceased, same thing,” he explains, sweeping his hand across the table’s surface as if swiping off dust. I look at him as he continues to sip his drink. It is not the same thing,but Lorenzo does things like that, so I won’t hold him against it. “And we still have a plan, okay? I’m doing it for Violet, whether you like it or not, because she will live with the guilt for the rest of her life if I don’t. I’m also doing it for you, so don’t feel offended.”
Guilty. Violet feels guilty. It isn’t her fault. I shouldn’t have mentioned that it was her fault. Is this her plan? Lorenzo keeps saying “we” like he’s working with someone. Is Violet working with him? I can’t help but feel a heavy weight on my heart, unable to shake the feeling. I didn’t think this would affect Violet, considering her thoughts toward me. I thought she’d be thrilled, if anything. The last thing I thought she’d feel is guilt.
Maybe I should talk to her. I told her I’m fine with moving, but everyone knows that’s far from the truth. I need to relieve her of this guilt so she doesn’t do something that hurts her. If the plan doesn’t work and I do end up going to New York, I can’t leave knowing I’d put her through remorse. She might be doing this for Aurora, or for Lorenzo, and might not even want me to stay here for herself. But no matter, if I leave, I’ll make sure she doesn’t blame herself for it. Or this will all end up as a full guilt cycle.
An uneasy feeling grows inside my chest, and I shift in my seat. She’ll be fine if I leave, right? She has Lorenzo to help her, and it’s not like I’m anything to her. She’ll get over it if whatever they’re planning doesn’t work. I’m sure she will. Why wouldn’t she? Right?
Chapter 30 – Cinquantacinque
Val
I park into an empty spot and turn the engine off, the sun shining into the right side of the car. I open the door and slide out of the seat. The building in front of me is huge, over ten stories high. Windows are set like blocks, sequentially both horizontally and vertically. The building is a glossy gray, and all the windows block the interior of each of the rooms. I don’t normally come here; Oliver is the one who does these meetings. But this time, I told him I would come, just for the sake of the plan.
I walk inside the building and toward the front desk. The receptionist stands behind a white counter at the front, a computer monitor and mouse visible. She’s seated, working on some paperwork. I head to the table and ask for a visitor’s pass before striding toward the elevator. The manager I talked to two days ago, when I came up with my plan, informed me that they were based on the fifth floor, so I don’t need to go up too high.
As I ride the elevator, I go over the plan. I’ll start off with talking about business because I’m hitting two birds with one stone. Then, I’ll ease in the idea of Roland leaving, with a reasonable explanation of how I know this. I’ll state my worry about the issue so I don’t look suspicious. Then, the seed will be sown. I just hope everything works afterward, and that Roland doesn’t turn into a sudden angel. I can do this. No stress.
My heart beats at a faster rate than usual, and my body heats up slightly. A prickling feeling haunts my skin. It’ll be okay. I can do this. What’s the worst that can happen? The elevator finally stops, and I step out and continue toward the office. My nails dig into the palm of my hand as I try to hide any sign of the stress I’m feeling.
I walk into the room, where a man is seated already. He’s dressed in a black suit; however, he lacks a tie. His hair matches the color of his blazer and is slicked back away from his face. A welcoming grin forms on his face when he notices my presence, and lights up his dim face. “Valentina. Welcome,” Owen Elrod—according to the name tag pinned to his shirt—greets me, gesturing to a chair with his arm.
I seat myself in the chair before answering him. “Thank you for finding the time to see me. I know you must be busy.” I give him my gratitude, smoothing out my black skirt, making sure to keep a smile on my face, both not to look rude or overwhelmed in any way.
“No problem. You are one of our most loyal customers, it was the least we could do,” He tells me, and my body lightens. I am loyal, there’s no lie there. This gives me a chance. They trust me. “So, for what reason did you request this meeting?” he continues.
I fix my posture on the seat, then reply, “Well, as you know, the music industry has been going through a swift development, and artists have been asked to be more present on social media.Many have already done this, and I’m planning on doing the same. As a start, I think doing more promotional videos, social media events and so on will help me out, and I’m here to see if that’s something you’d be able to help with. You know, the audience can get demanding,” I explain, and he chuckles softly. He grabs some files from the side of his desk and opens one of them.
“Of course. We have been getting a lot of increased business lately and were expecting you to do something similar. It won’t be a problem, of course. Let’s get more into detail,” he says. We work on the details for some time, until everything is set up and we have a plan. Now I know why I never got stressed out with media content. Unlike their name, Vid Vibez are very creative, and are also very easy to work with. Thank God. I should thank Oliver about this when I see him.
We eventually finish, and the moment of truth finally comes. “Great. Then we have everything set. Is there anything else you might need from us?” he asks, and I feel all the stress pile up on me again. You can do this. You’ve told yourself that a million times, might as well believe it.I inhale carefully.
“Actually, yes. I do have a small concern,” I mention, and he straightens in his seat, as if surprised and almost offended. Great start. I’ve offended him. However, that might help embarrass him enough to talk to Roland about it.
“Of course, what is it?”
“Well, your main partnership is with Imagine Designs, am I right?” I question, easing in the idea.
Owen nods his head, “Yes, we help each other’s businesses greatly,” he confirms, just as I expected.
“Well, I’m concerned that the trip will impact your work. I mean, it is hard to work from a distance with work such as yours.”
“I don’t follow,” he replies, confusion on his face.
Bingo. I knew Roland was stupid enough not to tell them. He was planning on playing it as a surprise. Well, surprise’s over, Roland.
I act innocent, just confused as he is. “Didn’t Roland tell you? He’s moving to New York. Mid-December, from what I know,” I tell him, and his eyes widen. He tries to hide it immediately after, dusting his jacket down.
“No, he didn’t. Who told you this information?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise to stay professional.
“Well, you know about my connection with Lorenzo Russo. He’s Elias Miller’s friend, and he told me about Roland’s departure. I thought you already knew about Roland’s plans, considering you are such good partners,” I say the last part in hope it might trigger something in him about Roland hiding such a big decision. I keep my facial expressions neutral. Almost there. Almost done.
The guy’s face turns slightly red, and his face tenses. “We weren’t informed about this, actually. No one was. Thank you for telling us. I assure you it will not affect the company, and we will be discussing this with him soon. We will make sure to fix the misunderstanding,” he assures me, and I smile in triumph.
“Thank you. And, a small request. I’d appreciate it if you can resist mentioning me when talking to him. You know Roland, I don’t want any problems,” I add. If Roland does figure out, I’ll deal with him. But I’d rather he didn’t.
