Page 91 of For Your Eyes Only
Running my hand over my face, I inhale as I nod. That’s good. I need them all to hear what I did. I need them to talk about it, to get the word all the way to Manhattan. We’re finished, violently and definitively.
“If it makes any difference, I’m going back to New York. I intend to sell my interest in The Rhino and Private Eyes, everything. You can keep your jobs. None of you will see me again.”
I decide on the spot to divest completely. I’ll sell this condo, our property in West Palm. South Florida can rot as far as I care. I’m never coming here again.
Bianca crosses her arms, her eyes never leaving me. “You’re not a monster. You care about our safety. You never took advantage of us. You asked Gia out thinking she was only a seamstress.”
“Show yourself out.” Straightening, I pass her, going to my room.
She follows me. “I know you’re lying.”
Without another word, I close my bedroom door in her face and turn the lock. I go to the shower, switching it on full blast and stripping out of my clothes. As I stand in the hot blast, I struggle to regain my bearings, to refocus on what I have to do going forward.
I clean up, put on a fresh suit of clothes, and when I emerge from the bathroom, the living room is swept and cleaned. The kitchen is also cleaned with the pots on the drying rack and the food gone. A note is on my counter.
Snatching it up, I read,Your plate is in the refrigerator. I took the rest with me to the house. I believe in you. Don’t let me down. –Bianca
Crumpling the paper into a ball, I drop it in the trash before going to the door. Taking the small suitcase from where I left it, I head out again, back to New York.
* * *
I’mat Gibson’s the next night, nursing a hangover and a vodka. “Perhaps it’s time I start drinking like the old guys.”
“I thought you were already doing that.” Ivan slaps me on the back, and I frown at him. I don’t like this guy.
“If you’re going to be an alcoholic, do it now, while you’re young.” Grish’s tone is flat. A cigarette is dangling in his long fingers, and I have yet to see him grieve. “Then you can do rehab and avoid turning into a cliché.”
“And that would be?”
“The abusive old man who ends up losing everything.”
Another grimace. I’ve already lost everything. I already feel like an abuser for the words I spoke to Gia. I scrub my forehead with my hand.I did it to protect her. I keep repeating the phrase, but it gives me no comfort.
“What’s the latest on our situation?” Grish turns to Ivan, and I take another sip, pretending I’m not interested in their dealings, like I have a choice.
“Honeypot isn’t responding,” Ivan grumbles.
“Make her respond.” Grish’s tone is ice. “If I go down, you go with me. All of you. I can’t shield you from the ground.”
Ivan shifts in his chair under my friend’s glare. “I can’t believe Simon would take you out. What would be the point of that?”
Ivan is doing his best to kiss ass. He’s such a fucking amateur. I drink more vodka, wondering how I’m caught up in this mess. These idiots are not part of my long-term plan, and yet here I am, having to keep tabs on them, and make sure no one has put a mark on me.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket. A text from Franco is on the face.Gia resigned. How should I handle her earnings from PE?
Tapping quickly, I reply,Send them to her.
I wait, watching the gray dots float, drinking more vodka, tapping my glass for a refill, which comes quickly.
His reply takes a while, and then it’s questions about Venmo vs. PayPal because of her visa status, and how much should he hold out for room and board, considering she was staying with me, and…what the fuck?
I frown, typing my reply.I don’t care. Send her all of it the easiest way possible. Don’t hold anything out.
I want her to be taken care of. I want her to have everything she needs. I want her to be happy.
I love you… Her voice is in my head. I take a longer drink, finishing my second tumbler of vodka, thinking one good thing about being drunk is it silences the relentless ache in my chest, that fucking pain I can’t escape when I’m sober.
Grish slides his gaze to me. “What’s going on with you?”