"You don't mean telling anyone?"
"No. I mean, you and I get away for awhile. Ames won't mind and he won't ask questions. We can go to Tuscany... Bali... even Iceland if it's more your flavor."
"Are you suggesting we run away?"
"It's more of a private vacation."
"Jamal will never let me take time off. He'll ask too many questions."
"He doesn't have to know."
"He's my brother. He knows everything."
I leaned over and kissed her.
"Don't sound so defeated."
She turned to face me.
"Say we do disappear. What happens then?"
"I look after you. We live happily ever after. We're fuckin' rich."
She sighed and flopped back onto her back.
"What?"
"Jamal. He controls all my money -- all the family money. I might be rich now, but I won't always be. Not without him."
"Money won't change how I feel about you, Indie."
"You don't mean that."
"I do. You're a brilliant woman. You don't need Jamal and you don't need me to be successful."
She turned back to face me, her face lighting up into a smile.
"You're the first person I've met who's ever suggested I could survive without my family."
"It's true."
"Rich? Let's do it then."
I smiled.
"Really?"
"Yes. But we can't go to Iceland. Or Bali. Or Tuscany."
"Where do you want to go then?"
"Somewhere different. Patagonia?"
"Ahh, Argentina," I replied in a mock Spanish accent.
She giggled.
"Yes. Argentina."
"So what do you say, baby? You want to run away together?"
She stared back at me, uncertain, the reality of what I asked set into her face. Leaving her family would mean sacrificing everything she'd been bred for. It wouldn't be a wanton sacrifice. I was a Carmichael. She was a Holloway. She had every right to be suspicious of me and to question the wisdom of allowing a known scoundrel to steal her heart and whisk her off to South America.
I could practically see the questions whirring by behind her gorgeous brown eyes. She inhaled sharply and returned to her back, her face set into a pensive gaze at the ceiling. Possibilities churned in her mind, including all the possibilities that I might not be the man I said I was.
She sighed.
"Rich..."
Swift Departure
INDIE
"You're leaving tonight then?" Donnie asked, standing in my bedroom near the window with his arms folded.
"Yes. Don't tell Jamal."
"I wouldn't."
"Thank you."
"Jamal would hurt you if he found out, Indie. You're talking about betraying him."
"I'm talking about my freedom, Donnie."
Donnie reached into his pocket for a mint and popped it into his mouth.
"Want one?"
"No thanks."
He shrugged and slipped the mint into his pocket.
"Jamal is serious about you and Will Harkness."
"That's the problem."
"Right. You've met someone else."
"You could say that."
"And this man is going to run away with you?"
"Yes."
Donnie approached my bed and began folding pairs of jeans, slipping them into my bag.
"I don't see why you won't tell me who it is."
"It's not safe, Donnie."
"Not safe, or you don't trust me?"
"Does it matter?" I asked.
"Why don't you ask Aunty Gail to protect you."
"Mama is powerless against Jamal. She might not realize it, but she is."
"You're certain this man is trustworthy then?
For a fleeting moment, I wondered if Donnie knew, or had some inkling of who I'd fallen for. He must have figured out that it would be someone Jamal wouldn't approve of. I didn't think Donnie had what it took to guess.
I pondered his question as I removed strings of pearls from my dresser and dropped them into my wooden jewelry box. Rich and I had fallen so quickly that I'd barely considered that he might not be the man I thought he was. He could be hiding, pursuing aims just as nefarious as my brother's. When I pictured his face, the way he looked at me before he stripped my clothes off or before he kissed me, there was no doubt in my mind that Rich was honest.
"Yes," I replied, "I trust him."
"He must be a wealthy man, to whisk you away at a moment's notice like this."
I sighed, "I'm not going to tell you who it is, Jamal."
"Alright then."
He zipped my bag shut and handed it to me.
"I'll drive you to your meet up."
"Thanks."
"Jamal's out and when he gets back, I'll tell him I haven't seen you."
"Thank you."
"Come here."
Donnie hugged me and then sighed.
"I won't convince you to stay, will I?"
"No, you won't."
"What about the company, Indie?"
"When Jamal's ready to be reasonable, I'll come back."
Donnie mumbled about Jamal not being known for his reason and I agreed. We hurried downstairs towards the car and I turned back to say a final goodbye to my apartment building. I'd lived in the penthouse for the past year and I loathed saying goodbye.
I'd be saying goodbye to more than Manhattan if my brother caught a whiff of where I was or who I was with. My heart sank heavily into my chest. I had to play it safe, act like everything was okay so Donnie wouldn't worry. He was only helping me because he sympathized with my cause against Will Harkness. If he'd had a clue who I was meeting, I doubted he'd be so forthcoming with assistance.
He dropped me off at the meetup point. I'd arrived early to make sure Donnie left and we could steal away together unnoticed.
"Are you okay here?"
"Yes."
"It's late."
"I can handle myself, Donnie."
"Listen, I've got to go handle your brother. If you need anything, you know how to reach me."
"Yes," I replied, "I do."
"Good. Take care with your mystery man. Don't get caught up."
He rolled up the windows and sped away, leaving me on an isolated downtown street. I exhaled, watching my breath turn to a visible white cloud. I yanked my peacoat tighter around my waist and pulled my hat down over my eyes. When Rich came, I'd recognize him and we'd wait for the hired car to come to take us to Boston where we could fly without detection.
My suitcase pressed down on my shoulders, bruising them gently. The city could get so cold at night I half expected it to snow. As I leaned against my suitcase, a pair of lovebirds walked in front of me, holding hands and whispering to each other. A pang of guilt surged through my chest.
All I wanted was the freedom to be like them -- to express what I felt without consequences.
When you're a Holloway, the consequences for all your actions bear such gravitas. The family, the family, the family -- everything I did had to serve the family. I could never hold hands in public, or go out without my heels, or do anything that might bring shame to our precarious family name. Rich got it. Rich understood why I needed to shed that life and pursue a new one in a different country.
I'd let my hair out of its crisp bun, leave behind the shift dresses and the designer heels in favor of digging my toes into the sand and flowing linen gowns that barely hugged my figure at all. A tall man, with a swaggering gait like Richard's, approached. I tilted my hat upwards to catch a good view of his face in the street lights. Not Richard, his brother.
While I hadn't met Richard until the party, I knew his brother Ames quite well. My heart raced and my eyes widened. Ames appeared to be a hulking, terrifying figure in the darkness. If he knew about our meeting place and opposed it as greatly as my brother did, I'd have no choice but to either run or fight.
I'd be powerless if it came to blows.
I reached into my pocket for my phone, prepared to bring Donnie back when Ames raised his palms in surrender.
"Indie, it's me, Ames. Don't do anything rash. Rich sent me."
"Rich sent you?"
"Yes. Are you alone?"
"I'm alone."
"Good."
He rubbed his hands together and shoved them into his pocket.
"Cold night, eh?"
"Too cold. Where's Rich?"
"He's coming. He should be coming. He got held up. He didn't want you to wait alone."
"So you're helping him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because none of this matters."
"What do you mean by that," I laughed.
Of course what we did mattered. Our family companies controlled the direction of global technology. It didn't get more important than the tech boom.
"I mean at the end of the day, love trumps money."
"So you have every intention of leaving this feud behind?" I asked.
My face betrayed my disbelief.
"Not at all."
"Ah, there's the Carmichael I know."
"If your brother refuses to put the past behind him, anything I'm doing is simply self-defense."
I snorted, "It's easy to put the past behind you when you aren't the one getting stomped on."
"And I'm truly sorry for what my father did. But he is dead. And I am not my father."
I pursed my lips, avoiding Ames' gaze, not so much out of anger with him as frustration. Where was Rich? He was now five minutes late and my minor verbal tussle with Ames hadn't done enough to distract me from the fact that he was supposed to have been here.
"Where's your brother?" I asked.
"He's never this late," Ames agreed, eyeing the Hermès watch on his wrist.
"Something's wrong."
Ames' brow furrowed. If he was in on it, he appeared to be every bit as surprised as I was.
"Something must be wrong."
"I'll call."
Ames turned away and pulled his phone out. My heart began pounding in my chest. I didn't want to believe Richard left me here on purpose, but I couldn't help worrying he'd been having second thoughts or worse, this was some sort of plot to expose what happened between us to my brother.
I considered calling Donnie but didn't think I'd get through.
An ambulance rounded the corner and whooshed past us on the street. The wind blew my coat up and I cinched the belt around my waist tighter, clutching my suitcase.
"He's not responding," Ames replied, "Something's wrong."
"The car should be here in five minutes."
"If he's not here, you should leave. I'm supposed to make sure nothing happens to you and I can't be certain of that if I leave."
"Where are you going?"
"I'll go find him. If something's happened to my brother, it's my job to know."
"You think something's happened?"
"He wouldn't miss this."
The car rounded the corner. Rich still wouldn't pick up and he was nowhere to be seen either. A lump formed in my throat. I'd set my suitcase on the ground and slipped my hands into a pair of mittens. The cold set into my bones and Ames turned to me, shrugging.
"I'm sorry. He's not picking up. I should leave -- go find him."
My eyes narrowed.
"How can I be sure someone didn't send you here to keep me from seeing him?"
"Bit paranoid?"
"I can't help it."
"Listen, if it helps, I won't tell anybody what happened here. You won't even have me get in touch with you again."
"I suppose I'll leave."
"I'll speak to the driver."
Ames leaned over to speak to the driver and as he did, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it and read the text message from Richard.
-- Something has come up.
-- What's wrong?
-- Is Ames still with you?
-- Yes.
-- Tell him to hurry.
-- What's wrong?
-- 64th.
-- Huh?
-- Tell Ames.
"Ames!"
He jogged over to me.
"What is it?"
"Rich. He sent me a text."
I showed him the phone and when he read the number, his face turned pale.
"Shit," he muttered.
"What's going on?"
"Rich needs me at 64th. Something must be wrong. I've paid the driver. Lay low for a while, Indie."
"Okay."
My chest twisted into knots. Rich's text and his brother's reaction both struck me as odd. Ames opened the trunk and thrust my bag into the back, sending me off in the backseat of the town car as he moved closer to Richard and I moved further away.
I pressed my head against the glass. I'd asked the driver to take me back to my apartment, but I wasn't sure I could bring myself to return yet. I had prepared to leave Manhattan possibly forever. Now I returned to the churning belly of the beast. Traffic thickened and I leaned forward to ask the driver to change the station.
My phone buzzed. Richard.
"Rich?"
"Are you safe?"
"Yes..."
"Good. I'm sorry."
"Sorry about what?"
"Can't talk now. Be careful, Indie."
"Careful of what?"
The line went silent and I sighed.
"Do you have Mariah Carey?" I asked the driver.
He nodded and flicked the station. I sighed and leaned back against the leather seats. Freedom would have to wait.
Killer
RICH
I hated hanging up on her. I hated not telling her what was wrong, but I couldn't scare her. Not now. I needed to think and act quickly. Ames wasn't far off from 64th street, Selena's city apartment. She wasn't home but as I paid her lease, I didn't have to do much convincing to be allowed in.
Selena's apartment was a filthy mess. When she'd moved in, her mother spent a week hauling in designers, vintage furniture and turning the place into a luxurious exhibition of decadent wealth and urban pizzazz. When I stepped over the door, clothes were strewn over every inch of the place.
The thick pungent smell of marijuana wafted from every room and vent. Selena had housekeeping but she must have fired them -- or they'd left of their own accord. Dishes piled high in her sink and it seemed when she'd run out of breakfast bowls she'd taken to drinking Pinot Grigio. Empty wine bottles and the thick scent of liquor filled every inch of the apartment.
I stepped over piles of clothing to her living room. The white couches her mother had ordered from Denmark possessed colored stains -- red wine, a dark red bloodied stain and some green paint. Ripped art books littered her coffee table along with two large bongs and more wine bottles.
How Selena managed to keep everything together at work had to have been a miracle. Her bedroom was slightly cleaner than the living room. It smelled better and her four-poster bed was made -- a beacon of order amongst the chaos. Papers lay strewn over her bed along with a yellow highlighter and a red pen. I flipped through them.
Financial Statements. Selena had an eye for numbers and she'd been crunching the data on what would happen if a potential merger between Will Harkness and Holloway, Inc. Were to happen.
There was no legal way to stop the acquisition and if Selena had come to the same conclusions I had months ago, she would have realized that the acquisition could make the family company obsolete. The result of the acquisition would be a coin flip.
Selena wasn't the only one who cared. And if she'd been more trusting, she wouldn't be doing this right now.
I peered out the window impatiently and saw Ames dashing out of a cab towards the doorman. Perfect. It had taken him long enough. And as usual, here I was cleaning up my family's mess while a beautiful woman, the woman I should have been with, waited for me. She'd know what was wrong soon enough.
Ames knocked on the door and I thrust it open.
"What the hell has she
done?"
"She's gone rogue. She's doing something stupid."
"To whom?"
"I've heard she's going after one of the Holloway boys."
"Jamal?"
"Probably."
"Shit."
"I know."
"If anything happens to him --"
"Indie will blame me."
"What have you found? This place is filthy."
"She's always been a slob. “ I led my brother back towards the bedroom.
I picked papers up off the bed and pointed to the red markings.
"She's done the math, then."
"She blames them for the acquisition."
"It hasn't wiped us out yet."
"It hasn't happened yet," I commented.
"Will it happen?"
"Surely, but it won't be simple," I replied.
"Why not?"
"Indie."
Ames raised a brow.
"So it's all strategic then? With her?"
"No," I growled, "I'm not using her."
"It just happens to be convenient for you?"
"For us. Yes. Her brother wants to marry her off to Will Harkness to sweeten the deal."
"Like a whore?"
"Yes," I glowered at his use of the word, "Like a whore."
Ames stuffed his hands into his pocket and continued to examine Selena's room for clues of what exactly she'd been plotting.
"We need to find that girl before she does something stupid," I growled.
"Look at this."
Ames opened an old jewelry box on Selena's counter and pulled out a slip of paper.
"What is it?"
"A phone number."
"Whose?"
Ames squinted.
"Shit..."
"Whose is it?"
"It's a Valducci."
"No..."
"Yes."
"She can't really be..."
"She must be."
"We need to get out of here."
Ames had gone pale. I couldn't blame him.
"If they investigate they'll think we helped her."
"We both know we didn't."
"Where do you think she is?"
"I don't know. But my guess is Jamal and Donnie are together."
Ames squeezed his eyes shut, "Hold on... Tonight... I believe Indie mentioned wanting to avoid the West Side."
"They must be over there. What did Kendrick own in the West?"
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