Page 33 of Coerced Kiss
“It’s nothing fancy, but I thought you may not feel like cooking.”
“You’re a darling,” she says, taking my arm and pulling me inside. “You’re one of the good ones, Anya.”
Swallowing my guilt, I don’t reply. While she locks the door, I go to the kitchen and leave the plate on the table.
“Have a seat,” she says when she joins me. “I’ll make us some tea.”
I take in her rickety frame as I sit down at the table. “Have you eaten?”
She waves a heavily ringed hand before bustling over to the stove and grabbing the kettle. “After everything that’s happened, I don’t have an appetite.”
“You must take care of yourself.”
“Don’t worry.” She fills the kettle with water from the tap. “I won’t let your generous effort go to waste.” After carrying it back to the stove and lighting the gas, she turns to face me. “What did they tell you at the office?”
“Nothing other than what the police who questioned us said.”
Frowning, she says with a thoughtful air, “His wife said he carried a panic button.”
“He did?”
That meant he expected trouble. It explains why he was so jumpy.
“He activated it just before the attack. That’s the reason the police got to the scene so fast. His security company alerted them. The security personnel arrived five minutes after the police on the scene.” She fixes a non-seeing gaze on the wall and mutters, “It must be terrible to have a job like that, to give people such bad news, telling them someone they loved died.”
“How is she doing?” I ask, fumbling with the hem of my cardigan. “His wife?”
Livy sighs. “As well as can be expected.”
I clear my throat to get rid of the lump that’s lodged there. “And the kids?”
The whistle of the kettle cuts into the space.
She switches off the gas and brings the kettle to the table. “They’re grown up and living their own lives.” Her mouth pulls down. “They weren’t that close to their father. I suppose he was always working, but you’d think they’d appreciate the opportunities he created for them. He gave them the best education money can buy.”
I ponder the question I’ve been asking myself since this morning. “Who do you think will take over the firm?”
“It’s difficult to say.” She fetches two mugs and a box of tea bags from the cupboard that she puts in front of me. “Perhaps his oldest son? I say that, but he’s a lawyer in Washington now and very successful in his own right. Accounting never interested him. Besides, his family is established there. His wife may not be keen on moving.” She lowers herself into a chair, supporting her weight with a palm on the table. “His daughter may be more inclined to sell her florist shop and move back home, but she’s never liked the accounting business.” She picks up the kettle and fills the mugs. “I assume his widow will inherit the business. Maybe she’ll promote one of the senior executives to CEO. If you ask me?—”
The ringtone of her phone cuts her short with the tune of La Vie En Rose.
When she makes to get up again, I stop her with a hand on her arm.
“I’ll get it.”
I retrieve the phone from where it’s charging on the counter and hand it to her.
She answers in her teacher’s voice. “Ms. Simmons here, how may I help you?”
I busy myself by going through the wooden box with the compartments that holds her tea collection to give her a measure of privacy. Opting for a lemon verbena infusion, I drop the teabag in my mug.
When I start to crumple the wrapper in my fist, I notice the bar code on the back. I take a few teabags in individual wrappers from the box and add the barcodes in my head before multiplying them. As always, the figures jump out at me in an instant. It’s a soothing exercise.
“No, my dear,” Livy says. “I’m very sorry. I don’t have any availability at the moment.” She listens to the caller’s reply before continuing. “Nor in the foreseeable future, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to send me your details. If an apartment becomes available, I’ll let you know. However, you should know there’s a waiting list.”
I take the total of the multiplication and subtract the barcode numbers, starting with the Earl Grey and finishing with the chai tea.
They talk for another minute about the rent and deposit requirements before she says in a dismissive manner, “Yes, yes, I’ll let you know. I’m afraid I have to go. I have company.”