Page 9 of Belle Amour

Sighing, Mirabelle made up the bed, did her nighttime routine in the tiny three-piece bathroom, which had clearly been a recent addition to the back of the hut, and went to bed. Today had been exhausting, and she just wanted to sleep so she didn't have to think anymore.

Chapter Seven: Fucked

Bastian drove to Mirabelle's condo building and pulled into the space that he paid for in the parking garage. Her condo building didn’t have visitor parking, and since he spent so much time there, he had purchased an extra parking spot so he and her guests wouldn’t have to find street parking. Her car wasn’t in her space, but he hadn’t expected it to be. That would have been too easy, and she was too mad at him to make it easy for him to apologize to her. Despite her returning her keys to his place, she never asked him for his keys to hers, so he rode the elevator to her floor and let himself into Mirabelle’s condo.

Everything was clean and tidy, which was expected; having grown up poor in New Orleans, she had huge fears about getting roaches or mice and rats and was pretty obsessive about her cleaning routines. Her condo was smaller than his; you walked straight into a small entranceway with the living room on the left when you opened the door. There was a large closet to the right of the door that held her jackets, shoes and a stackable washer and dryer, and a small galley-style kitchen was directly across from the door with a small, round, glass-topped table with four chairs between the door and the kitchen. On the other side of the living room were her bedroom and bathroom.

Looking around for some kind of clue as to where she went, Bastian spotted her laptop and tablet on the table and walked over, resting his hand on the lid, debating opening it.The fact that she left her electronics behind was a pretty good indicator that she went to the cabin. There was no service or internet there, and they relied on a generator for power, but he also knew Mirabelle didn’t like being there by herself. He really didn’t think she would go if she were truly mad at him because he could show up, and she couldn’t tell him to go away.

After a moment’s hesitation and feeling like a creep, he opened the laptop and entered her pin, sighing when it didn’t work. She used the same pin for everything, so the fact that it was wrong meant that she expected him to do what he was doing. Bastian tried a few other number combinations he knew she had used in the past, then clicked on the hint.

Nice try, Bastian. You won't guess it.

“Dammit Bunny!” He muttered. She knew him far too well. Frowning, he attempted the tablet and got the same results but a different hint message.

Really?

He did a quick walk through the kitchen and living room, looking for something, some clue, a brochure, a receipt, printed directions that she forgot when she was leaving, anything that would give him a hint as to where she went. Bastian knew and understood that she probably wanted space, but the thought of her being mad at him to the point that she would quit and potentially walk away from their friendship drove a spike of fear through his heart that was more painful than anything he’d ever experienced, and it was making it hard for him to breathe. Even when she married Eddie, which had almost completely broken him, he didn’t feel the level of panic he was feeling right now. He made his way into her bedroom, knowing he wouldn’t find anything. Mirabelle didn’t play games. If she left without explicitly telling him where she was going, then she didn’t wanthim to follow her and blocking him sent a very clear message that she didn’t want to hear his reasons and excuses.

Bastian sat on her bed and dropped his head into his hands with a groan. He fully admitted to fucking up, which seemed to be a common theme in his relationship with Mirabelle. His therapist had expressed on several occasions that his fear of losing Mirabelle was holding him back from reaching his full potential, but Bastian couldn’t see his life without her in it, and the thought of doing something that would make her walk away from him would paralyze him.

Cursing, he fell backwards across the bed. If she had just held off a little longer, he would have almost everything in place for them to leave. He was in negotiations about office space and in the process of getting their PLLC so they could open their own firm. He wanted to surprise her, do something for her that showed her how much he cared about her, but by trying to keep John and Kelly happy so they wouldn't know he was planning to leave, he had let things go that he usually would never have allowed and as a result, Mirabelle had been pushed past her breaking point and he was now wishing he had just told her about his plans and the progress he’d made.

Sitting up, Bastian looked around the room, hoping there was something that would tell him where she went, despite knowing there wouldn’t be. The soft gray and pink shades of the room were very soothing, and he could still picture her excitement about redoing her condo in her style when she moved in. Eddie had been very vocal about the design of their house, and the result was an odd clash of his primary colours and Mirabelle's soft, spa-like colour preference. She’d never had a space that was just hers, and as much as he wanted her to move in permanently with him when she left Eddie, he had recognized she needed space to heal properly and hadn’t wanted to push herinto a relationship with him before she was ready. He had been happy to help her with the deposit so she could work through her feelings without him interfering unintentionally.

Sighing, he ran his hands through his short brown hair and stood up, going to her closet; he pulled it open and looked for the small, fireproof safe she kept her important documents in, wanting to see if she had taken her passport with her. If he knew Mirabelle, she was somewhere near the ocean, which unfortunately did not narrow things down at all; she had travelled to dozens of beaches over the years, some of them with him, some with Marie, and some on her own. She was fearless when it came to travelling by herself, and while Bastian usually tried to make himself available for her spontaneous trips, he wasn’t always able to.

Finding the safe, he put in the four-digit code and frowned when it came up as incorrect. Things were way more serious than he’d realized if she changed this code. Bastian had access to the safe because he was her next of kin, and if something happened to her, the paperwork he needed to act on her behalf was in that safe. A fresh spike of panic went through him, making him drop the safe as he froze in place. She had planned this; she had changed all the codes to her electronics and the safe, knowing he would come here looking for something to tell him where she had gone, and she had the resignation letter in her purse. Mirabelle had expected him to bring Kelly home and not be ready to go. In the last three months, he had let her down so often that she had prepared to shut him out of her life and had given him one last chance to prove her wrong, and he failed. Closing his eyes, he fought to control his breathing and think.

Bastian pulled out his phone and opened their call history and text log, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach as hescrolled through and noticed a disturbing pattern. In the last three weeks, she had initiated texting him four times and called him twice. He had texted and called her dozens of times. Most of her responses were short, to the point, and missing her usual teasing. He knew she was upset, but his excitement at getting close to what had been their dream since they were sixteen and the fact that he was doing it for her had made him convince himself all would be forgiven when he handed her the keys to their new office.

He was suddenly snapped out of his horrifying realization by his phone ringing, and he looked down at it, hope filling him that it was Mira, then dying when he saw it was John. He felt anger rise in him; John knew he was on vacation; why the hell was he calling him? He almost didn’t answer but then figured he should, mildly concerned Kelly had gotten vindictive and told her father he raped her or something.

“Hello?” He snapped, unable to contain his anger. On top of annoyance that he was calling him at all, the fact that John hadn’t even attempted to control Kelly and her attitude in the office, despite Bastian’s warnings, had made him lose a lot of respect for his business partner.

“We're fucked!”John's voice was barely above a whisper, and Bastian could scarcely hear him. They were fucked? Why?

“What?”

“We're fucked.”John repeated with a sniff.

Bastian paused. “Are you crying?” John’s voice was choked and sounded strained.

“Everyone quit.”

“What are you talking about?” Bastian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He didn’t have time for this; he needed to find Mirabelle.

“Did you see the email from Christine?”

“No. One second.” He put the phone on speaker and opened his email, skimming his inbox until he found the one from Christine. He opened it and saw she was resigning. Her resignation letter read almost exactly like Mirabelle's did, citing disrespect and harassment by employees not being addressed by immediate supervisors.

“Shit.” He said quietly, feeling a laugh bubble up in his throat. This was Mirabelle’s doing; he just knew it. It took a lot to get her mad, but when she finally blew up, it was with the force of a sidewinder missile.

“I came into the office to get her contact information and Renata, Darla, and Barb have all resigned as well. Renata specifically named Kelly.”John sounded so dumbfounded that Bastian could only shake his head. The man’s head was so far up his daughter’s ass that he was looking out through her mouth. She truly could do no wrong in his eyes.

“Mira resigned too,” Bastian said reluctantly, not wanting to admit it, knowing what John would say.

“You're fucking kidding me!”John’s voice went from astonished to angry. “So, she had a temper tantrum -”