Everyone thinks the vandalism was the point.
But I’m starting to think the point was something else entirely.
Not the cameras.
Not the damage.
What walked out in a pocket.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Alicia
“This is crazy,” my assistant says, hovering in the doorway on her way out. The sun has dropped behind the buildings, taking whatever warmth existed with it. “If there’s anything I can do…”
“You’ve been a wonder,” I tell her. And it’s true—having my small staff and my friends stand by me feels like a lifeline. “Thank you.”
“Of course. You’d do the same for me.”
Petra hesitates, then adds, “I hope it’s over by Thanksgiving. Did you remember to order a turkey?”
Thanksgiving. My mind blanks. Whatever flickers over my face makes her laugh.
“Don’t worry. When I order mine, I’ll order yours.”
“When is?—”
“Two weeks,” she says gently.
Two weeks. Which means Stella’s school play is next week. I need to get my head back in the game.
My phone lights up with a video request. Stella.
“I’ll let you get that,” my assistant says, waving as she leaves.
I smooth a hand over my hair before I answer. “Mom. Are you still at the office?” Stella’s face fills the screen.
“Yes, hon. Are you home?”
“I’m at Dad’s,” she corrects automatically—home to her is still my place, and the small, greedy part of me clings to that.
She babbles about picking dinner, choosing Indian, then pivots to tomorrow night’s cooking plans. Her enthusiasm is my undoing.
“Either one works,” I say, fighting a sudden ache.
Richard appears behind her, suit jacket off, tie loosened. He asks to switch to voice, then calls me back without video.
“How did things go?” he asks.
“Good,” I say, because Stella is too close to the phone for anything else.
“It’s just me,” he says after a beat. “How’d it really go?”
I exhale. “Clients were supportive. Better than I expected.”
“That’s good. Are you working late?”