Her phone buzzed and she fetched it from her handbag. It was her attorney. “Hello, Melvin.”
“Brigit, you didn’t drop off your check. You okay?”
She’d stayed up half the night working on a detailed analysis of Francesco’s biggest rival and was headed to Mitus Conglomerate to interview for a job she didn’t want. Of course she wasn’t okay. “The week got away from me, so I mailed the check.”
“I have some disturbing news. Do you have a moment?”
“I can’t speak freely.”
Vonn activated the privacy shield. Though appreciative of his professionalism, she wasn’t going to divulge anything.
“MobiCom—Francesco’s rival—is headquartered in nearby Reston.”
This can’t be good.“Yes, I know.”
“Their legal team reached out to me.”
Heat blasted her body and she cracked open the window. “Why?”
“They expressed interest in retaining my services for an acquisition team they’re putting together.”
“Oh, no.”
“They want Francesco.”
Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. “What did you tell them?”
“Full schedule, so I passed. Aside from the fact that I think it’s a terrible idea, I’m not dropping you as my client. I’m sorry this is happening.”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Me, too.”
“Francesco’s sputtering stock isn’t helping,” Melvin said. “If the companies merge, they could buy you out of your shares and that’ll be the end of that.”
Her head throbbed as the Bentley pulled up to the Mitus compound. “Thank you for your loyalty, Melvin.” She hung up, silenced her phone and shoved it into her handbag.This cannot be happening.
The giant gold M in the center of the gate split as the wrought iron swung open. After Vonn drove through, she spun around in time to see the metal clang shut like a prison cell door. Her hands grew clammy. To calm her anxiety, she silently recited her favorite childhood poem. The one she knew word-for-word before she’d learned to read. With Blankie in tow, she’d snuggle in mommy or daddy’s lap and ask for Mary Howitt’s spider story.
“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,
’Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show you when you are there.”
“Oh no, no,” said the Fly, “to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.”
I’ll nevereverbe that fly, she’d proudly proclaim.
The long-awaited invitation into Colton’s inner sanctum didn’t feel like a milestone and she gobbled down several nervous breaths. Her skills were being used to help the enemy undermine her six-year-old goal. Was she about to derail her chances of ever getting her company back?
8
THE SILK BLANKET
The Bentley rolled forwardas the lush canopy of autumnal leaves swayed in the cool breeze. Were the giant oak branches waving her in or shooing her away?