Chapter 16
Peter
The Monday after my wedding, I called Evangeline and told her to set an appointment with my father. I was nervous as Renaldo drove me from my condo to the office. I hadn’t told my father anything about Honey, yet, and now I was about to show up with a band on my finger and a marriage certificate in my hands.
I knew Honey was paranoid – she hadn’t brought it up again, but even a blind person could have seen that she was worried. As much as I wanted to reassure her, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it completely until I had the go-ahead from my father.
When I got into the office, Evangeline handed me a cup of coffee.
“Mr. Anastas will be coming to your office,” she said, glancing down at my desk. “In about ten minutes.”
I blinked. I hadn’t expected my father to make time for me so soon.
“Thank you, Evangeline,” I said, taking a sip of the coffee. It did little to calm my nerves. “I appreciate your help.”
“How was your weekend?” Evangeline asked as she cleared some crumbs and wrappers from the end of my desk. “Do anything fun?”
I smirked. “Oh, yeah,” I said, thinking of the wild night Honey and I had spent together after the wedding. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Evangeline said sweetly. She had barely left my office when I saw my father’s silhouette through the frosted glass. He let himself in without knocking and shut the door, sitting down on my leather couch and giving me an expectant look.
“Hi,” I said nervously.
“Peter,” my father said, chuckling. “Relax. What’s going on? Your girl said it was urgent.”
The thought of anyone calling the middle-aged Evangeline a ‘girl’ was funny, but I couldn’t let it distract me.
“I have good news,” I said, sipping my coffee and standing up.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” I said. “I got married over the weekend.”
“Oh, Peter, that’s wonderful news,” my father said, but his voice wasn’t exactly warm. “Congratulations to you and Pamela.”
“Not Pamela,” I said, frowning. I hadn’t expected this.
“Oh?”
“Honey,” I said. “Honey Walters. We met a few weeks ago, and the spark was intense. We went to City Hall.”
My father raised his eyebrow. “Peter, does this mean what I think it means?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to keep a trace of smugness from my voice. “We’re expecting a child.” Well, hopefully, I added in my head.
My father narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t this a bit sudden?”
“No,” I lied. “Of course not. Honey is a perfect wife. She comes from a very tony family on Long Island. She’s very used to people of our class, and she’ll be wonderful at my side during events.”
My father frowned.
“I know it’s a surprise,” I said, trying to keep my voice as light as I could. “But Honey is a wonderful woman – when you meet her, I’m sure you’ll love her.”
My father nodded. There was a deep crease in his brow that I hadn’t ever noticed before.
“Well, I can see you’ve made up your mind,” he said slowly. He reached into his desk and pulled out an unobtrusive little envelope. “I have the documents here…I had a feeling I’d be seeing you soon.”
I frowned. I didn’t want to think about what that meant, exactly – was my father thinking that I’d decide to marry Pamela, after all?
My father passed me a piece of paper, and I scanned it quickly. Sure enough, it was all there. As soon as I turned thirty-five, Spyros Magnate would be all mine.
“What are you going to do?” I asked my father.
“I’ll remain on the board of trustees, and advise you during your first few years,” my father said smoothly. “And Peter, I hope you won’t discount my advice. I know you think you know everything, but right now it’s a good idea to keep your head down and learn as quickly as possible.”
I nodded. Maybe it was because of my father’s serious tone, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly intimidated.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fountain pen. Uncapping it, I signed my name in big scrawling letters at the bottom of the document.
“And Peter, I’ll need a copy of your marriage license and certificate,” my father continued. “Not that I don’t trust you, of course.”
I nodded again. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “I can do that.”
By the time the meeting was over, I felt like I was in the middle of a dream. I shook my father’s hand and walked out of his office, feeling light as air.
That was when I saw it.
A flash of blonde hair, a bright spring coat.
As quickly as I could, I darted around a corner and peered back at the hall. Pamela, my ex, was walking confidently into my father’s office. Before I had time to grab her arm and demand to know what the hell she was doing in my office, the door slammed, and the shade rolled down over the glass.
My heart was thumping as I ran back to my office. Evangeline was sitting at her desk, typing slowly away at her computer.
“Evangeline,” I said quickly. “Has there been anyone to see me?”
“No, Mr. Anastas,” Evangeline replied. “Are you expecting anyone?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “But are you sure? You didn’t see anyone? Not even my ex-girlfriend – you know, the blonde one?”
Evangeline shook her head and laughed. “Mr. Anastas, I may be getting old, but I assure you – I didn’t see anyone at all. It’s been a very quiet morning here, in fact, no phone calls or messages.”
My heart sank. “Okay,” I said, nodding. “Thank you, Evangeline.”
Without waiting for her to reply, I locked myself in my office and sat down behind the desk. My head was spinning. What the hell was Pamela doing here? Had she come to threaten my father, tell him about how I’d confronted her outside of the fertility clinic?
Or was something else going on – something darker?
My heart was pounding as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Honey’s apartment. The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. By now, my palms were starting to sweat, and I felt incredibly nervous and agitated. It’s probably nothing, I told myself as I shifted uncomfortably in my office chair. You’re just being paranoid!
But no matter what kind of soothing thoughts I tried to summon, nothing worked. After a few seconds of staring blankly at my computer, I grabbed my briefcase and ran out of the office.
“Mr. Anastas? Where are you going?” Evangeline called loudly.
I ignored her. Instead of waiting for the elevator, I pushed open the door to the stairwell and flung myself down the stairs, jumping and leaping and taking them two at a time. The frigid New York City winter air felt soothing on my cheeks, but I didn’t stop to take it in. Instead, I ran towards the street and flagged down the first cab I saw.
Launching myself in the backseat, I gave the driver Honey’s Brooklyn address. The cab crawled through traffic – at one point, I was convinced that I would have made faster progress if I’d jumped out and started running. But as soon as we had crossed the bridge, traffic lightened up, and the cab began to move at a reasonable pace.
By the time I spotted the brownstone building where Honey had lived with her roommate, I had shoved a twenty-dollar bill at the cab driver and leapt out of the backseat. I was breathless by the time I ran upstairs and knocked on the door.
Fortunately, I heard footsteps right away. But when the door swung open, I was dismayed to see Beth standing there, not Honey.
“Where’s Honey?” I asked quickly. “Is she home?”
Beth furrowed her brow and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I thought she was with you?”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “No! I tried calling her, and no answer!”
Beth went white in the face like she’d just received horrible news. “She hasn’t been home in days,” she said slowly. “I thought she’d moved in with you and forgotten to tell me.” She swallowed. “Are you saying you haven’t seen her?”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed Don Crosetti.
“Hello?”
“Don, it’s Peter,” I said. “My wife is missing, and I need your help.”