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ChapterSeven
Madi
The next morning, I hit the ground running in new shoes with heels taller than the last pair. I’m going to prove I can walk and take dictation in them if it’s the last thing I do. Last night, I stayed late, researching the Adalwulfs. I need to know everything I can to make myself useful to Blackthroat. I met one of the janitors–Jerry–and we had a nice chat, at least until one of the executives threw me out. Apparently we’re not supposed to stay late on the top floor without an executive present, a rule I read in the employee handbook but didn’t believe. On Wall Street, hundred hour work weeks are the norm, right? But it makes sense that they want the executive floor locked down.
The executive who threw me out was Mr. Eagleton, Ruby Blackthroat’s husband and Moon Co.’s corporate counsel.
He was nice enough, especially after I told him about the Adirondack land that was potentially for sale. It was connected to another huge plot of wilderness, so I figured it would work well for a land corridor for wildlife.
When I showed it to Mr. Eagleton, he said, “Incredible. This is a gold mine. That land abuts…Madison, good work.”
So, of course, I had to research what the land abuts. Turns out, the other plot of wilderness is owned by none other than Odin Adalwulf, the patriarch of the Blackthroat family’s enemy.
The feud between families runs deeper than typical business backstabbing. Like Indira said,bad blood.Makes me want to dig more.
Detective Madi is on the case.
I stop at the drycleaners to pick up Blackthroat’s suit–the one I soaked–and as I leave, my phone buzzes in my hand. My mom sent a text–a picture of my brother Brayden in front of his dorm in an NYU sweatshirt.He’s so excited,she writes, as if I couldn’t tell from the triumph on his face. “Thank you for helping with his tuition.”
I walk into Moon Co. with a spring in my step. All the long hours are worth it if Brayden can get the same leg up I did.
Before I can tuck my phone away, my screen lights up with a call. Indira. “Vance just announced another emergency executive meeting.”
Of course he did. Because their poor planning becomes our emergency.
“Can you get their coffee orders?” she continues. “I emailed you the list.”
“On it.” I swivel before I reach the security check in and walk against the flow of suits streaming into work. The line at the coffee shop is around the block, so I search for another option. There’s a coffee shop from the same chain across the street, in the building opposite Moon Co. I say a prayer that I won’t have to swipe a badge or pass security to get to it.
The doors sweep open, and I march in, only to stop short. The lobby is cavernous. The architects sacrificed at least five floors of space to this commanding space. It’s empty, silent as a cathedral. A little creepy, seeing as every other building is filled with people rushing to make their morning meetings, but a good sign if I don’t want to wait in a coffee-shop line.
The clip-clop of my high heels echoes for miles. The coffee shop is in its own little cube in the corner and just my luck–it’s dead. Not a single customer. The barista looks startled to see me.
“Hey.” I give him my brightest smile and toss my hair back from my eyes. “I need a bunch of coffees to go.”
I pull up my phone to get to Indira’s list, but there's no reception. “Sorry, my email isn’t loading. Just a moment.” I check the internet connection and mutter a prayer that it will cooperate.
The door behind me opens, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. Another customer is here, and I’m holding things up. “I’ll just step outside real quick.”
The barista’s eyes widen, but I catch the warning too late. I turn and slam into a tall man in a dark suit. He must have been right at my back, about to walk into me. I wobble on my heels, and he grabs me, his strong grip biting into my forearms.
Blackthroat’s drycleaned suit flaps between us and falls to the floor.
He’s as big as Brick Blackthroat but doesn't have the same delicious outdoorsy scent. Not that I've noticed Blackthroat’s scent.
“I'm so sorry–”
“Watch it.” The deep voice grates my ears. My head snaps up. I’m about to tell him off for breathing down my neck like a creepy stalker when I meet the coldest pair of blue eyes I've ever seen. Twin pits of ice blue, freezing me in my place. A strange silver shimmer flashes over them, and my stomach lurches.
The barista rushes out from behind the counter. “Mr. Adalwulf, I'm so sorry–” He’s choking out an apology like it was his fault.
The man holding me glances at the barista, and the babbling apologies cease.
Mr. Adalwulf.
Oh, crap.
I knew from my research that Adalwulf Associates had a building on the same block as Moon Co., but I hadn’t realized it was this one. I was just thinking about coffee.
