Nodding, we walked over to the bank of elevators. Instead of entering the one that was exclusive for the penthouse, we stepped inside the lift that led to the apartment suites. When we reached Vivian’s floor, Samuel pointed down a long corridor.
“This way, ma’am.”
As we passed the doors for the residences, I absently wondered which apartment was Hale’s. Samuel stopped about halfway down the hallway, in front of a door with gold numbers which read 4812. Surrounding the numbers was a decorative wreath made of faux twigs and spritzes of flowers.
“Is this her apartment?”
“It is,” he told me.
“Thank you, Samuel,” I said and smiled my appreciation. I stepped in front of the door and rapped on it three times.
“Just a minute,” Vivian called from the other side of the door. I heard the sound of a security chain and the unlocking of a deadbolt before the door opened. “Why, Miss Cole! What a pleasant surprise.”
She greeted me with a bright smile, making the lines around her eyes crinkle. I suspected that she was in her early sixties, but I couldn’t be sure. She didn’t have a ton of wrinkles, but a smooth face that was only marred by lines from years of smiling. Her dark hair was swept up into a bun, the streaks of gray prominent within the knot. She was wearing an apron, as usual, and appeared to be dressed comfortably underneath. It was later in the evening, and I worried that I would disturb her. However, her attire didn’t suggest that she was going to bed anytime soon.
“Hello, Vivian. May I come in?”
“Of course, my dear!”
She stepped aside and motioned for me to follow her. She led me over to a long cherry wood dining set and pulled out a chair for me to sit at.
“Thank you,” I told her as I sat down.
“You still look a little flushed. How are you feeling? Can I make you a cup of tea or coffee? What about dinner? Have you eaten?”
I laughed.
“I’m fine, but thanks. I actually just wanted to come by and say thank you for the soup. It was very kind of you. In fact, I’m feeling considerably better than I did yesterday.”
Despite what I said, Vivian walked into the kitchen and set up an ornate looking percolator used for brewing coffee.
“That’s wonderful to hear,” she called over her shoulder. “Samuel, would you like a cup?”
I turned to look behind me. Samuel stood just inside the door. He was like a statue.
“No, ma’am,” he replied, his expression remaining stoic.
Vivian just shook her head and continued on with her task. While she prepared coffee, I looked around her apartment. Just as I imagined it would be, her space was tidy and neat, but not nearly as modern as Alexander’s penthouse. Vivian’s home was decorated with more traditional trends. The apartment had an open floor plan, larger than I would have expected, with a large kitchen, living room and dining area all within my view. Despite the open concept, it didn’t feel cold like the penthouse did at times. Vivian’s was warm and inviting.
When she returned, she carried a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and an assortment of cookies. I could use the coffee, but I avoided the cookies. I had lost a few pounds during the weeks I was in the hospital and I was determined to keep them off. I wasn’t sure, but there was something about Alexander seeing me naked every day that kept me motivated, and sweet treats didn’t get along very well with my hips or my behind.
“I appreciate the coffee, but really. You didn’t have to go through the trouble, Vivian.”
“Nonsense. I don’t mind,” she assured. She added a few dollops of cream to her cup and then looked quizzically at me. “So tell me. I’m sure my chicken soup isn’t the reason you’re here. What can I do for you?”
I blushed over the fact that she was able to sense an ulterior motive for my visit. I smiled and tried to keep my response light.
“I’ll be honest, I’m not used to having a housekeeper. I wanted to get to know you a little better. After all, you are the woman who washes my underwear,” I joked.
She gave me a soft smile, a gentle one that matched the look in her eyes.
“I wondered how long it would be before you came to see me. I’ll admit, you held out longer that I thought you would.”
I blinked, unsure of what she meant.
“I’m sorry?”
“Never mind. I’m just getting ahead of myself,” she dismissed. “So you want to know about me. Well, I’ve lived in this building for twenty-seven years. I came to work for Mr. Stone a little over ten years ago. It was right after he bought the penthouse. He was so young, obviously new to his wealth, but smart. So very smart. I mostly did basic cleaning for him a few times a week just for some extra cash. It wasn’t until…well, until later that I began working full time.”
I noticed the way her expression grew sad. To my surprise, her eyes misted over. Curious, I couldn’t help but to ask her what was wrong.
“What is it, Vivian?”
Instead of answering right away, she pulled a tissue from her apron pocket and dabbed the corners of her eyes. Folding it back up, she waved her hand back and forth as if suddenly embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t mind me. You’d think after all this time, I’d be able to talk about my deceased husband without getting all weepy.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to –.”
“No, no. It’s not you, dear. I’m just a silly old woman. Now, where was I?” She paused and seemed to be trying to collect her thoughts. “A year after I started working for Mr. Stone, my husband passed away. I loved my dear Wilson something fierce, but with his death came a mountain of debt that I couldn’t pay. When I told Mr. Stone that I would need to move, he wouldn’t hear of it. He paid off the debt and offered to pay me a regular salary if I stayed. That’s when I started working for him full-time. His only stipulation was that I be available at all times. Considering all that he did for me, I couldn’t refuse him.”
I gave her a wistful smile and felt my heart melt. I thought about what he did for Wally’s, my former employer, and how he saved the grocer from going under. I thought of Hale’s mother and about how Alexander paid for her stay at one of the best long-term care facilities in the city. And now, I had another story about Alexander’s generosity.
Vivian and I talked for another thirty minutes. I learned that she didn’t have any children or grandchildren that she was tied down to, so making the move to Westchester with us would be simple. After a while, I became incredibly comfortable with her and I regretted not getting to know her sooner. There was something familiar about her, like she was the grandmother I’d never known. My grandmother passed away right after I was born, so I have no memory of her. However, if she were alive, I imagined her to be much like Vivian.
Perhaps it was that connection that compelled me to bring up the topic I had been thinking about since I walked into her apartment.
“Vivian, I’m worried about Alexander.”
Vivian’s eyes darkened, yet they were sad at the same time.
“That’s honestly the reason I thought you came to see me today. I know he’s struggling, but don’t let that scare you off. You’re good for him. He needs your spunk.”
“I love him very much, Vivian. I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her. “You’ve been with him for a while now. What do you know about his past?”
I deliberately left the question open ended in an attempt to feel her out. I didn’t know how much Vivian knew and I didn’t want to betray Alexander’s confidence.
Vivian sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. She nodded slightly and seemed to contemplate her words before speaking. I almost wondered if she were the one feeling me out. When she spoke again, her voice was cautious.
“I know enough to know that he can’t be at peace until he has answers. He’s a good man. Hard at times, but good. He lets his past define him. Sometimes that’s good. Sometimes it’s bad.”
“How is it good?”
; “Just look at all the work he does with his foundation. Take the woman’s shelter for example. I suspect there’s an underlying reason for that project.”
I nodded my agreement.
“I’ve often suspected the same. I just wish I could help him more, you know?” I shook my head sadly, feeling frustrated over the situation.
“Oh, but my dear! You do help him! You are his Dorothy!” she exclaimed. I was genuinely confused.
“His what?”
“Do you remember Dorothy, from The Wizard of Oz, and her ruby slippers?”
“How could I not? It’s a classic,” I laughed.
“It is a classic, but there’s a metaphor there too. With her ruby slippers, Dorothy had the power all along. You have a similar power, Krystina. And for Mr. Stone, you are the only place he calls home.”
23
alexander
I walked down the steps of New York Presbyterian Hospital and headed toward the parking garage. Hale’s mother was a little banged up, but it was nothing serious. After ensuring she would have aides around the clock, I left Hale alone to visit with his mother. Her mind was absent today, her clouded vision a telltale sign that she was somewhere else. Nonetheless, Hale felt obliged to stay with her, so I told him to take as much time as he needed. Samuel had already been briefed on the situation and I assigned him to some of Hale’s duties accordingly.
By the time I climbed into the Tesla, it was nearing eight o’clock. Justine’s three-story brownstone condominium was on the Upper West Side, located about four miles from the hospital. Traffic would be light at this time of day, so I knew it wouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to get to her place. However, time had a funny way of playing tricks on the mind, especially when you’re trying to put something off. The drive seemed to only take seconds. Before I knew it, I was parked outside her home.
As I stood in front of the brick structure, the knot of dread that formed on the drive over seemed to sink lower in my gut. I wanted her to be home, but I was also afraid of what she would say. I almost didn’t want her to confirm Charlie’s story, as once she voiced her betrayal out loud to me, there would be no going back.
I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. No answer. Rather than knock again, I pulled out the key I had for her condo and unlocked the door. The lights were off, making it clear that she wasn’t home. I flipped on the light switch in the entryway so that I could survey the interior.
Everything inside was chic and modern, decorated in various shades of white, silver, or gray. There was the occasional splash of color here or there, but other than that, the interior of her home reminded me of the décor at Stone Enterprise.
I smiled to myself, reminded of the memory of the first project I gave to Justine. It was right after I purchased the building that housed Stone Enterprise. When I acquired the fifty-story building, my knowledge about the Federated-May merger helped to negotiate a lower than fair selling price. The building was a steal, but it needed a lot of updating if I wanted to lease out some of the floors at a premium rate. Justine had been the one to find Kimberly Melbourne.
Together, floor by floor, they worked tirelessly to make Cornerstone Tower one of the poshest office buildings in the city. After seeing Justine’s organization and exceptional results with the project, I decided to appoint her as head of the Stoneworks Foundation. It gave her something to do, as well as offset the stipend I gave her every month for her living expenses. I played it off as a win-win situation for the both of us. Although, the truth of the matter was that I had ulterior motives for keeping her close. By working with her on a regular basis, it allowed me to keep an eye on her when she was married to Charlie.
I walked further inside the apartment, looking for some sort of clue for where she might have gone. Nothing appeared out of place. However, framed pictures on the mantel of the fireplace caught my attention. They didn’t use to be there. Curious, I went over to look at them and picked up the first snapshot.
It was a faded Polaroid of Justine with my mother. From the looks of it, it was taken at the home of my grandparents. Justine couldn’t have been more than three years old in the picture. My mother appeared to be laughing, her eyes alight with humor.
That would have been before her first trip to the hospital. Before the asshole beat her to a bloody pulp.
My mother’s blue eyes, eyes that matched my own, never shone bright after that day. I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved on to the next picture. Both Justine and I were in this picture, with my mother in between us looking down at me. Even in the picture, I could see the love in her eyes. Fall leaves were scattered around us and I recalled the day it was taken. My mother, grandmother, and Hale’s mother had taken Justine and me to Central Park. We had a picnic of peanut butter and apples, Justine’s favorite food. Even now, I could almost taste it. I could nearly smell the crisp autumn air.
I wondered where Justine had gotten the pictures from. I wanted to feel bitter about seeing them, but I couldn’t. The expression on my mother’s face in both pictures showed how much she adored us. The thickness in my throat tightened and I had to blink back the moisture in my eyes. I couldn’t afford a moment of weakness.
Where are you, Justine?
I set the picture down and shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of the memories. I had to get a grip. Looking at the old pictures was like ripping a scab off a wound, but there wasn’t time to reminisce. And there certainly wasn’t time to become emotional. There was too much at stake.
I walked upstairs and into her bedroom. I opened the closet doors and found her clothes neatly lined up on hangers. The bed was made, the comforter pristine and crisp. Nothing seeming out of place. I went into her bathroom, but there wasn’t even so much as a toothpaste smudge in the sink. Unable to find any sort of clue for her whereabouts, I headed back downstairs to the kitchen.
Once again, I found everything to be neat and tidy. There wasn’t a glass in the sink or a food crumb on the counters. It was almost surreal, as if nobody lived here at all. If I hadn’t already seen the clothes in her closet, I may have actually believed that.
I looked to the ceiling and reached up to rub my temples. A part of me expected that she wouldn’t be here. But another part of me hoped to find her curled up in her bed, fraught with worry over the interview Charlie gave. I didn’t know if she knew about it, but she had to have. It was the only explanation for her disappearance. I truly believed that Justine was running scared.
I turned to make my way out the of kitchen, disappointed that I wasn’t able to find any answers. I paused when I saw a small scrap of paper under the kitchen table. Bending to retrieve it, I saw that it was a receipt for a parking garage in Brooklyn. Yesterday’s date and time stamp was printed on the top.
Brooklyn? Why the fuck would she be in Brooklyn?
I pocketed the receipt, unsure of what to think. I only knew that as soon as Hale was back, I would ask him to look into it. Perhaps there were traffic cams in the area that would reveal something. Between Hale and Gavin, my ingenious computer tech, they were bound to come up with some answers.
Just as I turned the key to lock up, my cell rang. I glanced at the screen. It was Matteo.
“What’s up, Matt?”
“Hello, my friend! Have you seen the papers?”
My stomach dropped. Hale had assured me that he stalled the publication of Charlie’s interview.
“The papers? What about them?”
“The reviews!” he exclaimed, sounding completely exasperated.
I breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. He was calling about the restaurant.
“The reviews,” I repeated. “No, I haven’t seen them yet. Sorry. It’s been a hectic day.”
“You’re killing me! Look them up, man. They are good. Really good actually.”
“That’s great to hear, Matt.”
My voice was detached, even to my own ears. I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t care.
I had a lot invested in his success, but I just couldn’t feel his excitement at that particular moment.
“What’s wrong?” Matteo asked, obviously picking up my tone.
“Nothing. Just tired,” I told him and forced myself to match his enthusiasm. “I think we need to celebrate. What do you say?”
“I think that’s a great idea. Let’s plan for Friday if you’re free. The restaurant closes at nine. We can hit a club or something. One of the ones Allyson goes to maybe. Check with Krystina and maybe the four of us can go out together.”
I raised my eyebrows as I climbed into the Tesla. I was sure that we would not be going to any club that Allyson frequented. If I was going to go out, we would do it my way. Still, his mention of Allyson made me pause. Switching over to Bluetooth, I continued the conversation and pulled out of the parking space.
“Allyson,” I said, letting her name hang in the air as a statement rather than a question.
“What about her?”
I smirked at his evasion. He knew exactly what I was talking about.
“What’s your interest in her?”
“She’s a cool girl. We have fun together. That’s all.”
“Why do I think there’s more to it?”
I heard Matteo sigh through the line.
“Don’t over think it. Really, there’s nothing between us. She’s not the one for me.”
“If you say so,” I said disbelievingly. If there was something going on between the two of them, they were both being very tight lipped about it. “I’ll talk to Krystina, but I’m sure Friday will be fine. I’ll give you a buzz later in the week and we can work out the details.”
“Sounds good. Ciao!”
After I ended the call, I texted Krystina to let her know I was headed home.
Today
8:49 PM, Me: On my way.
8:50 PM, Krystina: Are you hungry?
8:51 PM, Me: Only for you, angel.
Set In Stone (The Stone Series Book 3) Page 18