He doesn't text back but I'm not going to worry about it.
"Hey, Henry," I say as I walk in the restaurant. He's in the dining area, fixing the wobbly tables. To save money, I bought used tables and chairs. They look brand new but some of the legs on the tables aren't even.
"Morning!" He gives me a big smile. "Made some coffee and I brought in donuts for you and the crew."
"Thanks!" I walk past him.
"How'd everything go last night?"
I turn back. "With what?"
"With Gavin. You two back on track?"
"Um, yeah...I guess." I avoid his gaze, my eyes going to the crack in the wall that needs to be fixed. It's an old building that needs a lot of repairs but I love it because it has charm and character and is in a great location.
"So that would be a no." Henry walks up to me.
"Gavin was tired. He got home at midnight and fell asleep as soon as he got into bed."
He shakes his head. "I need to have a talk with that boy. He's too young to be working this much. He should be enjoying life. Enjoying his youth. Enjoying his beautiful girlfriend."
I smile. "He will. He just had to fix something at work last night. He's not normally that late. And tonight he'll be home early. We're going to dinner and then he's coming here to the restaurant."
"I was planning to do some painting here tonight. But if you two want some privacy, I can do it tomorrow."
"Tonight is fine. Gavin will like having you here. Maybe you can get him to help paint."
"The boy's never painted anything in his life. I'm afraid to give him a brush."
I laugh. "I'm sure you could teach him."
"Will do." He nods toward the kitchen. "Go get yourself a donut before the guys eat 'em all."
I go in there and find just two donuts left and no coffee. I make some more, then take a donut and sit on the kitchen stool and review my to-do list.
My phone rings. It's Megan. I've been so busy I haven't talked to her in almost a week.
"Hey, Megan. Sorry I haven't called you back."
"It's fine. I know you're busy. I'm actually at work so I can't talk long. I just wanted to ask if you signed up for that Moorhurst class."
"I haven't had time yet. Why?"
"It's too late. Decker said the deadline to register was weeks ago, even for people just auditing a class, which is what you were planning to do, right?"
"Yeah, but I guess I can't now. Damn. I should've signed up. I totally forgot about it."
"It's for the best. I didn't want you going there with all those rich kids and their secret societies."
"They don't have secret societies."
"They do," she says matter-of-factly. "Decker confirmed it."
"He did?"
"He was drunk at the time but the truth always comes out when people are drunk."
"If he was drunk, he didn't know what he was saying. He could've been making it up."
"I asked him about it later, when he wasn't drunk."
"And what did he say?"
"That he didn't know that much about them. He just knows they exist."
"So there's more than one?"
"Decker only knows of one, but there could be more."
"How does Decker know about this? Has he been asked to join?"
"No, but some of the guys on his floor disappeared for a week last spring. Decker thinks they were at some kind of initiation. He said when they came back, they seemed different."
"Different how?"
"Some were really quiet, like they were freaked out by whatever happened that week, and some got really cocky, like they thought they were suddenly better than everyone else because they were part of this group. Oh, and get this! They missed classes and tests and didn't turn in papers that week and they all still got A's."
"How does Decker know that?"
"Because he's in their classes."
"Maybe they made up their work for the week they were gone."
"Maybe. It doesn't matter. The point is, they disappeared for a week and didn't get in trouble. And they came back acting differently."
"That doesn't prove anything. You're just making guesses. You have no idea where those guys were or what happened."
"True, but the evidence points to membership in some kind of secret group. I have to keep digging. I'm just glad you're not going to Moorhurst. Any place is better than there."
"Ms. Norris?"
I look over and see Tom, the electrician, walking into the kitchen.
"Megan, I have to go. Can I call you tomorrow?"
"You could but you won't. You're too busy."
"I'm sorry. I promise to call more when things settle down. Bye!"
As I set my phone down, Tom comes up to me. "Everything's set to go. I did everything on your list. If you need anything else, just give me a call."
"Okay, thanks. Do you have the final invoice?"
He takes it from his shirt pocket and sets it in front of me. "It's a little more than the original bid, but we talked about that last week."
I glance down at the bill. It's almost twice the original bid. Shit. I didn't budget nearly enough for electrical work.
"Have a good day." Tom walks away while I sit there staring at the bill, wondering where I'll get the money to pay it. The money from Mr. Walcott is running out and I don't want to go back to him for more.
"Kate, you have some visitors."
I hear Henry's voice and look up to see him holding open the door that leads from the dining area to the kitchen for four older men wearing dark suits.
"Do you work for Mr. Walcott?" I ask as I go over to them.
One of the men laughs. "We don't work for Walcott. We're his acquaintances."
"Meaning you're investors?" I ask.
"Not exactly," one of the other men says. "Walcott mentioned you in our meeting the other day and invited us to come assess his latest investment."
"Oh." I don't know what that means. If they're not investors, then why would they be here? "Mr. Walcott didn't mention you'd be coming by to check out the place."
The man chuckles. "I wasn't referring to the restaurant."
Now I'm even more confused. Is he saying I'm the investment?
He and the other men glance around the kitchen. One of them picks up a spatula like he's never seen one before, then sets it down.
"When is the opening?" the man who picked up the spatula asks.
"A week from Friday," I say.
"Do you think you'll be ready?" the first man asks.
"I think so. There's still a lot to do but I'm sure it'll all get done." I smile, although it's a nervous smile. These men are making me uneasy. "I just hope people show up once we're open."
"They will," the man says with a wink. "The restaurant will be a success. No need to think otherwise."
"Why do you say that?" I ask with a laugh. "Do you have a crystal ball?"
His lips slowly move up to a smile. "We don't tolerate failure."
"We?" I ask, confused.
"Our investments always perform the way we want them to," the man next to him says, ignoring my question.
"And if they don't?" I ask.
All four men chuckle, then the first one says, "We have to get going. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Norris." He turns to leave and the other men follow him back to the dining room.
Henry walks in. "Who were the suits?"
"I'm not sure," I mutter, confused by what just happened. "They didn't really say."
"Then what were they doing here?"
"I don't know. They said they knew Mr. Walcott. They said they're not investors so I'm not really sure why they were here. Why'd you let them in?"
"I didn't. They just walked in on their own."
"Wasn't the front door locked?"
"It was, so they must've had a key. Walcott must've given it to them."
"Why would he do that? That doesn't make sense."
Henry steps forward until he's right in front of me. "How m
uch do you know about Walcott?"
"Not much, other than some stuff I read online about his investment firm. Why do you ask?"
"Walcott donated money to Niles' campaign. And now he's investing in your restaurant."
"Yeah? So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying Tad Walcott seems overly interested in the Bishop family."
"But I'm not a Bishop."
"You're dating Gavin. You're going to marry him someday, which will make you a Bishop."
"Maybe it's just a coincidence he gave money to both Niles and me."
"It's not a coincidence. Men like Tad Walcott do things intentionally. There's always a reason. So what is it? Why does he care so much about this restaurant? As far as I know, he's never invested in restaurants before, so why now?"
Hearing Henry talk about this is making me as nervous as I was when those men were here. What is Mr. Walcott up to? Knowing he supported Niles changes everything. It makes me think Walcott is more than just a businessman trying to help out a struggling entrepreneur.
"Why didn't you tell me before now that Mr. Walcott contributed to Niles' campaign?" I ask.
"I just found out. Walcott's wife was at the house yesterday and I overheard Celeste talking to her. She mentioned the donation they made to Niles' campaign last year, saying how much Niles appreciated their support. Normally, I'd think nothing of it but I knew Walcott was funding your restaurant and that's when I started to become suspicious."
"Did you hear his wife say anything else?"
"Not about Niles. She started telling Celeste about her plans to remodel her dining room and I stopped listening." He lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm making something out of nothing, but when it comes to these rich bastards, I don't trust them. Like I said, they don't hand out their money without a reason. A reason that'll benefit them somehow. And no offense, but this restaurant isn't going to earn him much. It may not even earn him anything the first year or two."
I think back to what the man in the suit said about how the restaurant will be a success. Why did he say that? How does he know?
"Just be careful," Henry says. "Don't let Walcott or any of his people bully you into making decisions that aren't right for you. And never feel you have to decide something right away. You can always call me for advice. Or talk to Gavin, or your parents. We're all on your side. Walcott's not. He's only looking out for himself."
"Maybe I shouldn't have taken his money."
"Too late now. You signed a deal. He owns more of this place than you do, but that doesn't mean he owns you."
Carl, one of my painters, peeks his head in the kitchen. "Henry, we need you out here."
"Yeah, I'm coming." He takes off.
What have I done? I'm in business with a guy I'm not sure I can trust. What was the real reason he gave me the Young Entrepreneur Award? Did he really see potential in me? Or did he make all that up to get me to agree to take his money?
Whatever his motives were, it's too late to go back. Like Henry said, I signed a contract. Mr. Walcott owns part of my business. But he doesn't own me. So then why did that man refer to me as an investment?
Maybe Walcott really does see me that way. He invested in Niles, and now he's investing in me. But why me? What does he think I can offer him?
Chapter Fifteen
Gavin
"It didn't work," Jess says as she comes into my cubicle. Jess is our tech person. She does all the programming for Falkin's website. She's 30 and single with no kids or pets so she spends every waking moment here at the office. She's really smart and could make a lot more money working somewhere else but she believes in Falkin so much that she's willing to work for less to make sure he's re-elected.
"What do you mean it didn't work? You said it would."
"I said it might work. I didn't say it was definite." She picks at her black nail polish, which matches her short black hair, thick black eyeliner, and black clothes. She only wears black.
"So what's the issue?"
"I can't make separate pages for each group. I tried but the system we're using won't allow it."
"Can't you work around the system? Can you change the code somehow?"
She smirks. "You're so cute. Trying to talk about code." She reaches over to ruffle my hair but I back away. I hate it when she patronizes me like that. She does it to everyone and nobody likes it but she gets away with it because we need her skills.
"What does this mean? If we can't separate the groups, we can't do the survey. So what do we do?"
"That's your problem, not mine. Jett still wants separate groups. It's up to you to figure out how to make it work."
"As you just pointed out, I know nothing about programming."
"You don't have to. I already told you it won't work. You need to come up with a different solution. Jett wants it first thing tomorrow. There's a meeting at eight."
I shoot up from my chair. "Are you kidding me? It's already after five. How am I supposed to find a solution in just a few hours?"
She shrugs. "Not my problem. But hey, good luck. I'm sure there's at least a few brain cells somewhere in that pretty boy head of yours." She laughs as she walks off.
I sink down on my chair and try to think of how to fix this. My phone alarm goes off, telling me it's time to leave, but I can't. Not now.
A text pops up. It's from Kate, asking me if I've left yet. Shit. I told her I'd take her to dinner tonight, then help her out at the restaurant.
I call her up. "Hey."
"Hey! Are you almost home?" She sounds excited. She was really looking forward to tonight. So was I. I miss her. Even though we live together, it seems like I never see her anymore.
"Bad news."
"You have to work late." I hear the disappointment in her voice, mixed with an undertone of anger.
"I'm so sorry. I was about to leave and then I found out there's a problem I have to fix."
"And it has to be fixed tonight?"
"Yes. There's a meeting in the morning. I have to present my solution to Jett."
"Solution for what? What's the problem?"
"I don't want to get into it. It's complicated."
"Wait. Did you just say this is for Jett? So you're working on the campaign today? I thought you were at your other job."
I wasn't supposed to tell her that. If she finds out I'm working here almost full-time now she'll be pissed. Obviously I have to tell her but not now. Not when she's completely stressed with the restaurant about to open.
"Jett asked me to work today," I tell her. "It was slow at the office so I agreed to it."
"And now you have to work late? There's no way you can get out of it?"
"No. I'm really sorry. I know I promised you I'd be there but is there any way we could postpone our plans until tomorrow?"
She sighs. "Sounds like we don't have a choice."
"Let me get to work on this project. Maybe I could be done by ten."
"You're going to be there that late? That means you won't be home until almost eleven."
I'm guessing it'll be later than that but I'm trying to remain hopeful for Kate's sake.
"I know. I'm sorry. Don't wait up. I'll be quiet when I come in. I love you."
"Love you too. Bye." She ends the call.
"Fuck," I mutter as I set my phone down. I knew this would happen. I knew working on this campaign would mean working late hours and less time with Kate. And yet I agreed to do it because there's that part of me that likes the work and doesn't mind the long hours. But where does that leave Kate and me? She's not going to stay with me if I'm never home.
"Done yet?" Jess asks as she walks by my desk on her way to the break room. She follows her comment with a laugh.
I open up my laptop but my mind is still on Kate. After a few minutes of staring at a blank screen, I wake up my computer and get to work. By midnight, I come up with a solution that's not great but is good enough to present to Jett in the morning.
When I get home, it's after one. I cli
mb into bed next to Kate, and instead of turning toward me like she normally does, she turns away from me. She's not asleep. I can tell by her breathing. So she purposely turned away from me. She's angry, but she'd be even more angry if I told her the truth about my job.
At five, my alarm goes off. I quickly shut it down so I won't wake up Kate. She's sound asleep. Once again I'll have to leave without telling her goodbye or kissing her or having breakfast with her. We haven't been able to do any of those things since I started this job.
Before I leave, I gently kiss her forehead and whisper goodbye, then I send her a text from the train, telling her I love her and to have a good day. Texting is all our relationship is right now. I don't even know how the restaurant is coming along. I haven't had a chance to talk to her for more than a few minutes a day.
"Where's Jett?" I ask Jess when she stops by the conference room. It's after eight. The meeting should've started by now.
"He can't make it. Something about a meeting with donors. I don't know the whole story. His assistant just said he'd be out today. Didn't you get a text?"
I check my phone and see a text from Jett's assistant, saying the meeting is cancelled.
"You've gotta be kidding me." I shake my head. "I stayed here until midnight for nothing?"
"You can still send him your idea," Jess says as she messes with her hair. She puts some kind of product in it then spikes it up in different directions. It looks really bad and she's always messing with it, making it look even worse.
"I can't just send it to him. I need to explain it."
"Then set up a new meeting. But just so you know, he's booked the rest of the week."
"I thought this was urgent." I raise my voice. "And now he has no time to meet?"
"Hey." She puts her hands up. "Don't take it out on me. I don't control his schedule."
"I know. Sorry. I'm not blaming you. I'm just...." I take a breath. "Never mind."
She walks away. I gather my meeting notes and close down the presentation I'd made on my laptop. I did all that work for nothing. I cancelled my night with Kate for nothing. But I'm not doing it again. If Jett wants me to work late tonight, I'm telling him no. In fact, I might leave at four, or maybe even three. After last night, I deserve to leave early.
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