Damage Control
“And while this is important, getting Adrian Martina the fuck out of my company comes first.”
His cell phone rings and he removes it from his pocket. “Nick,” he says, taking the call and listening before he speaks a few clipped words, and then says, “I’ll tell him and we’ll get there.” He ends the call. “Nick says he needs to see us at his facility now and we need to make sure we aren’t followed. He’s sending a car to the private garage again. It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
My intercom buzzes. “Emily needs to see you,” Jessica announces. “She says it’s urgent.”
“Give me a minute.” I eye Seth. “She must have heard and she’s connecting dots.”
“I’ll step outside.” He walks to the door and exits, with Emily appearing in his place, and she pulls the door shut behind her.
Her skin is pale, her eyes worried. “You know about Brody’s wife?”
“Yes,” I say, pressing my fingers to my desk, and putting it between us. I can’t have a conversation with her about this now. “I know.”
She takes several steps forward. “You’re connected to this.”
“I had nothing to do with this.”
“You’re connected to this,” she repeats.
“Emily,” I say softly. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Was she murdered? Was she?”
“Don’t do this right now.”
“That’s a yes.” She crosses to stand in front of my desk. “How bad is this for you?”
I lean on the desk and study her. “You know I’m not responsible for their deaths.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t be blamed.”
She’s right and the idea that this could be a setup is not one I can ignore. “You need to stay out of this. Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask anyone about this. Do not touch this.”
“You have no intention of ever telling me what’s really going on, do you?”
“I told you I’d tell you everything and I will.”
“When?”
“I’m not doing this now.” My voice is sharper and harder with the pressing need to fix this before I end up in jail and take her with me. “I need you to go back to your desk and let me handle what I need to handle.”
“Go back to my desk,” she repeats. “Right. I’ll do that.” She marches toward the door, but not before I see hurt and doubt in her eyes that I’d hoped to never see directed at me. I pursue her, reaching her as her hand comes down on the doorknob, my palm flattening on the door above her, my hand at her waist.
“Don’t go like this,” I say, lowering my voice to add, “Please.”
“You told me to go.”
“Not angry. Not doubting me.”
“You all but dared me to feel those things.”
“Not by intent. I’m focused on solving problems and keeping everyone safe. The idea of you feeling either of those things will mess with my head, and I can’t have anything messing with my head right now.”
She faces me, folding her arms defensively in front of her. “So that’s what I’ve become? Someone to mess with your head? To distract you?”
“Sweetheart,” I say, my hands settling at her waist, “that is not what I said.”
“You don’t have to.” Her hands close around my wrists. “And I don’t want to be that to you. I want to be helpful. I want to be a partner.”
“You are the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m trying to make sure my family doesn’t destroy us.”
“They can’t destroy us, but secrets can. If I’m a distraction—”
“Emily—”
“You can’t end up like Brody,” she says. “If I’m a distraction, you need to send me away, even if it’s for a few weeks.”
“I’m not sending you away.”
“Then you need—”
“Tonight,” I say. “We’ll figure this out tonight, but I’ll likely be late coming home. And I need you to promise me you’ll go home right after work and stay there so I won’t worry about you, but I’m going to have security monitoring you.”
“This is that bad?”
“Do you want the real answer?”
“I need the real answer.”
“Then yes. It’s that bad.”
She studies me for several long beats. “You really expect me to just walk out of here in the dark, don’t you?”
“Yes, because you’re smart enough to know that this isn’t the right time or place to have this conversation.”
“No. It’s not. The right time and place would have existed before right now, but bottom line, I’m in the dark, which means I’m flying blind when it comes to evaluating what’s important, therefore, I have to tell you something I found out about Mike Rogers today.” She hesitates. “And I really didn’t want to share it like this.”
“That doesn’t sound good but I need to know.”
“This is not how I wanted to tell you this,” she repeats, which only sets me more on edge.
“Tell me.”
“Fine. Tell you. Right.”
“Emily—”
“Your mother and Mike are having an affair.”