Page 64 of See You Maybe

Declan narrowed his eyes as he paced across the office to stare down at the street below. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with the man’s antics.

Brady was the twins’ friend, not his. Declan didn’t need friends; he needed answers. He let the silence draw out between them, begrudgingly acknowledging that Brady wasn’t easy to disconcert.

It was one of the reasons Declan hired Brady’s security firm rather than his normal security team. He had put the younger man in touch with Vincent Menardi, former head of Bloom security, and tasked them both with looking for the prostitute who had survived Chris’s drunk driving accident. Declan needed that woman’s testimony as leverage.

Brady might come across as carefree and nonchalant, but Declan had learned, when it came to his job, Brady was deadly serious.

A heavy sigh sounded on the phone. “With all the fancy education you Blooms got, someone should have spent money on a finishing school. You guys are cranky as shit.”

“Noted.”

“We used the name Vincent gave James—Abigail Sanders, the alias Vincent set up for her after the accident—and tracked her to New Orleans, where she got a job as a dancer, but after a few months she disappeared again. There are other Abigail Sanders in the US, but none of them matches her description or background.”

"Do you think she's dead?" Declan's brow furrowed in concern. That would be disastrous. He needed the woman alive to uncover the details of what happened almost four years ago, when Chris, driving Declan's car, had killed a prostitute who worked for Courtney's escort service. Declan bitterly recalled how Courtney and Chris had framed him, using the threat of turning him over to the police to blackmail his father into marrying Courtney.

The familiar knot tightened in his stomach as he remembered how his father had believed Courtney's lies, thinking Declan had been the one driving. Though Courtney's son Trey had manipulated photographs to incriminate Declan, it still hurt that his father hadn't trusted him enough to ask.

The old anger surged through him. David Bloom had been a stubborn man. Vincent, loyal to the Blooms and convinced Declan was the driver, had arranged for the surviving escort to be paid off. But now knowing the truth, Vincent was eager to help.

There was no statute of limitations on murder. Even if they couldn't prove Chris was the driver during the fatal accident, it should be enough, along with everything else, to convince the board to reinstate Declan as CEO.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Atlanta—Present Day

The week since returning from New York had not been pleasant. Richard and Stuart had bought the story that she had suddenly become ill, but Kyle wasted no opportunity to jab at her. When Jessica called to say she was in town for the holidays, Olivia had been excited to reconnect with her old friend.

Olivia held her coat tightly around her as she made her way toward the restaurant door with an odd mix of anticipation and anxiety. The two women hadn’t sat down, just the two of them, for years.

When they were married, Kyle didn’t like her meeting Jessica alone, probably concerned that Olivia might reveal what was happening in their home. As time passed, their old telephone marathons grew shorter and shorter, replaced by texts and memes.

It hadn’t been a problem until Jessica learned Olivia had left Kyle and hadn’t told her the truth about them living apart for over a year before Olivia filed for divorce. Jessica claimed she understood that Olivia was trying to protect Richard while he was ill, but Olivia got the distinct impression Kyle had done a better job of swaying his family to his version of their marriage.

The hostess seated her, and Olivia draped her coat over one of the chairs. She toyed with her water glass and ordered a peppermint tea, not sure why she was so nervous. Jessica was late, but that wasn’t a surprise. The steaming mug was placed in front of her just as Jessica bustled in.

Her chestnut hair was shorter than the last time Olivia had seen her, and though a wide smile stretched across her face, Olivia imagined she saw a tinge of something forced around the edges. Olivia came to her feet, but instead of the usual tight hug, Jessica gave her a half-hug and an awkward pat on the back.

“It’s so good to see you. It’s been way too long.” Jessica shrugged out of her coat, but paused before she lay it on top of Olivia’s. Her face pinched slightly as she stroked one hand down the cashmere. “This is nice.”

“Thanks.” Olivia wanted to joke she’d found it on sale like they used to, but something in Jessica’s tone kept her silent.

“Do you want some tea?”

Jessica wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay, please. Make it a large one.” She let out a little laugh as the server walked away. “It’s mommy’s day out. I’m sorry I’m late. You know how kids are… Right when I’m ready to walk out the door it’s, ‘Mommy, where’s my shoe’ and ‘Mommy, Clementine is breathing on me.’” Jessica laughed before sobering. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean…”

Olivia smiled back, ignoring the old hurt that spiked in her chest. “Nothing to be sorry about. I love hearing about your kids.”

“Pfft.” Jessica rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine. “Not nearly as exciting as your life. High powered CFO jetting off in a private jet to a black-tie gala.” There was that edge again.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, trust me.” Olivia reached for a piece of bread and slathered it with butter, even though her appetite had disappeared.

They ordered their food, and Jessica ordered another glass of wine before she made a face at Olivia. “I’ve been patient… now tell me everything.”

Olivia fiddled with her tea bag, not meeting her friend’s eyes. “It’s been really busy. Everyone at the company is excited and nervous about the offers. I think we know which way we’re going to go?—”

“Ugh!” her friend exclaimed. “Not that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty excited about the payout I’m going to get for my stock. Things have been tight lately with me staying home with the kids, so this buyout is a godsend. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even buy a fancy coat like yours.” She scrunched her nose. “Maybe not. I have a feeling that coat isn’t kid friendly.”

Olivia managed a smile. Was she looking for jabs where there were none?