Chapter Thirty-Eight

Beau

Annabel won’t admit something is wrong, but it is.

She doesn’t want to leave the city. Instead she insists on an afternoon in.

I don’t argue. How could I? There are few greater pleasures in life than seeing the curves of Annabel’s body under a tank top and shorts, tantalizing under those thin layers of fabric.

But her eyes are distant. She sits close to me on the sofa or in my bed. We watch one movie, then another, and then she switches to a British show about baking. “Do you remember this kind of thing?” she says suddenly while a woman onscreen agonizes about toasted almonds.

“British reality shows?” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. It should be light already, given that we’re watching people compete to bake the best cake, but Annabel is jumpy. “No. I’m not sure what I did, but television wasn’t a high priority.”

“That’s probably why . . .” She starts a sentence, but her voice trails off.

“Why what?”

She gives me a look like she has no idea what I’m talking about and snaps back. “Oh, probably why you’re so successful. You never wasted very much time on TV.”

“It does free up time in my schedule,” I tell her. She looks back at the screen with a sigh. “There will be other jobs.”

Annabel smiles at me, patting my leg. “I’ll start looking tomorrow. I needed another day, I guess. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” I reach for the remote and pause the show. “I’m worried about you.” I run a hand over her hair. “There’s nowhere you’d like to go? We could even go to New Hope.”

“We can’t,” she says. “It’s two hours away, and I haven’t showered.”

I throw my feet over the side of the bed and tug her after me. “Simple solutions,” I say, and Annabel laughs.

It still doesn’t sound right.

*****

At the office the next morning, Linda is on edge. She stands up quickly next to her desk outside my office. Is everyone on edge? “Good morning, Linda.” Out with it.

Her eyes are worried. “Mr. Bennett, Mr. Sykes is here, waiting for you.”

My stomach turns. Waiting for me in my office? Why would he do that? He’s never had a problem calling me at every hour before. It seems ominous. It is ominous.

“Thank you.”

I set my jaw and head into the office.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs across from my desk and turns when I come into the room. “Bennett,” he says. The sound of my name from his mouth is exhausting. I’m already exhausted. We didn’t get back from New Hope until two in the morning. I’m not at my best, and I know it. Do not get irritated. Sit down for the meeting, whatever it’s about, and get through it. That’s all.

I reach out and shake his hand, then move around behind my desk. Edgar still hasn’t stood up, so that means this is a sit-down talk. Fine. All the better. My heart beats harder, adrenaline rushing through my veins, and I hate it. I don’t want to be this excited over anything except Annabel. “I didn’t get a call,” I say simply.

“That’s right,” he says, leaning back in his chair, his eyes hard on mine. “I’m here because I have some concerns to discuss with you in person.”

What would happen if I got up from my seat right now and left? I want to be back at my penthouse. I want to be sleeping in bed or doing something else in bed with Annabel. I do not want to be doing this. But years ago I considered all the options, and this was the best one. For me. For my business. For my legacy. I’ve done good work. This morning none of it seems to matter. “Concerns about the properties?” I try my best not to let any hint of irritation show in my voice. I’m not sure if I succeed. I have spent hours with Edgar on this project. I have accompanied him all over the city. I have accommodated every one of his requests.

“Concerns about you.”

I shake my head, barely resisting the urge to cover my eyes with my hands. “What possible concerns could you have with me? I’ve been vetted year after year. I’ve always done the best possible work for you, Edgar.”

“Bennett, we need people who are reliable.”

“I’ve always been—”

“We need people who aren’t prone to erratic behavior.”

This is the last straw, but I swallow the outburst that rises in my throat. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You must know that we . . . check in frequently.”

I know that. “And?”

“And there have been reports.”

I want to slam my fists on the surface of the desk. Instead I fold them neatly and glare across at Edgar. “Reports about what, exactly? Let’s get this all out on the table.”

“Behavior that isn’t in keeping with your usual habits,” Edgar says. “Missing appointments with friends. Leaving the office at odd hours. And the woman—”

Annabel. Jesus Christ, how could they have a problem with Annabel? “She has nothing to do with this.”

“There is some concern that she has a negative influence on you.”

“I have never, not once, betrayed your confidence. Not to her or anyone else.”

“That may be,” Edgar says, his tone mild. “But I don’t take chances. I can never take any chances. Do you understand, Mr. Bennett?”

“Yes, I understand, but—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Edgar is rising from his seat and gathering up his briefcase. “Good. There will be no further work for the time being between our two organizations. I wanted to tell you personally.” He extends his hand for me to shake. “Thank you for your discretion.”

That’s all he says. Then he turns his back on me and walks out.