Eventually, we settled into a semi-comfortable silence. The awkwardness of our last in-person interaction crowded in between us, but the music and outside scenery made it easier to pretend everything was normal.
It was a relatively short drive from New York to the venue in Vermont. It was located in a teeny-tiny little town called Ellington, which didn’t have an airport or a train station, so driving was the most convenient option.
“Are you ever going to tell me the truth about why you ran out of that meeting in October?” Sebastian suddenly asked.
The one I’d left to go straight to Pittsburgh. I couldn’t believe he remembered.
“I told you. I had a doctor’s appointment,” I lied.
“We’re stuck in this car for at least another hour, and your taste in music is questionable. The least you can do is tell me something interesting—andtrue.”
“My taste in music is not questionable. Not everyone likes to listen to pretentious French jazz.”
“Don’t change the subject.” He glanced over at me. “Is it really that bad?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. I hadn’t toldanyoneabout my Pittsburgh theory. I was worried it would make me sound unhinged, but the secret had been gnawing at me for weeks.
Oddly enough, Sebastian would be the perfect person for me to share it with. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dismissive. He’d always taken me seriously, even when I tried to rage-bait him once by arguing that Henry VIII was the greatest monarch in history (he wasn’t, which Sebastian had made clear via a sixty-minute dissection of every point I’d made).
“It’s notbad,” I hedged. “But if I tell you, you might think I’ve lost it.”
“Try me.”
I took a deep breath. “I think the listeria outbreak over the summer was planned. Someone broke into our packaging facility in Pittsburgh and purposely sabotaged our products.”
It sounded even crazier when I said it out loud.
I winced and braced myself for ridicule, but it never came.
“Why do you think that?” Sebastian asked curiously.
“The cases never sat right with me from the beginning,” I said. “My dad isanalabout safety regulations. The quality and reputation of our products are important to him, and staff are required to undergo training every year. Anyone who violatesthe rules is suspended or let go. We’ve been in this business for decades, and we’ve never, ever had an issue with contamination.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Sebastian reasoned. “It only takes one accidental fuckup.”
“That’s what I thought too, but my gut told me otherwise. Our Pittsburgh factory is where a majority of our Italian line is packaged. When you mentioned Pittsburgh during our meeting, that triggered a memory. Earlier this year, one of our employees there was fired because they weren’t following our food safety guidelines. You’d think that would be the end of it, but they showed up a few weeks later with a gun. Threatened to shoot everyone there and then shoot themself. Thankfully, security was able to disarm them before anyone got hurt.”
“Holy shit.” Sebastian’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I didn’t hear anything about this.”
“We buried it,” I said. “I convinced my father not to press charges, which would’ve opened a whole other can of worms, but the ex-employee was ordered to seek treatment. They’re also not allowed to step foot within three thousand feet of any Singh Foods properties.”
“So you think they violated their restraining order to get back at the company,” Sebastian mused.
“It sounds far-fetched,” I admitted. “I went straight to Pittsburgh that night to talk to some of the employees. See if they’d noticed anything strange in the weeks leading up to the first case. None of them did, but I swear, my gut is usually right. I just can’t prove it.”
I desperately wished I could. Yes, I’d handled the contamination crisis effectively, but the company had still lost a share of customers who heard “Singh Foods” and thought “listeria.” If I couldprovethat the contamination was a result of sabotage, not inadequate food safety controls, that would go a long way toward repairingour brand’s reputation.
“Have you told anyone else about this?” Sebastian asked.
“No. I don’t want to say anything until I have more than a hunch.”
“So I’m the chosen confidante.” A slow smile spread across his face. “I’m honored.”
My skin warmed. “Don’t let it get to your head. I only told you because you’re annoyingly persistent.”
“Nine times out of ten, annoying persistence is the key to getting what you want.” Sebastian glanced at me again. His face softened a smidge. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think your theory is farfetched. You have good instincts, Sal. Trust them.”
Something inside me melted a little.