Page 56 of A Lifetime in 30 Days
In the shower, lathered in the body wash that was supposed to relieve her stress, she’d sobbed like a baby. Like she had for most of last night, and she hated it. Now she stuffed that card back into the box and opened the top drawer to grab her underwear.
By the time she’d put on a pastel ombre maxi dress and natural-colored wedges, she’d felt a little more like herself. Most of her get-ready time had been dedicated to her makeup since she’d had to cover the bags and attempt to minimize the puffiness in her eyes. Just another reason she hated to cry. It wasn’t until she’d gotten downstairs and heard Granny arguing with Frito about being afraid of a little rain that it occurred to her to check the weather. Normally, as soon as she woke up, she would turn the TV in her room on to the local news channel so she could hear the day’s weather. This morning she’d basked—or rather, suffered—in silence.
She avoided the kitchen, and instead walked straight down the stairs and into the coat closet. Finding her denim jacket, she slipped her arms into it and glanced down at the basket, which held extra umbrellas. She didn’t need to grab one since there was a travel one in her purse and a bigger one in her car that worked much better on those windy and rainy days. That reminded her, she needed to call the body shop today to get a better ETA on her vehicle. The sooner she got rid of this rental, the sooner it could stop reminding her of the SUV that had apparently run down Elliot Joble.
And who the hell was Elliot Joble, anyway? She’d never met the man, yet his death was now on her conscience too.
“I’ll see you later, Granny!” she yelled.
“Oh. Okay! Be safe!” her grandmother yelled back.
It was a little after nine when Vanna finally walked into the office. During her commute, she’d called Neshawn to say she was running a little late. As with more than a few days this month, this time of morning was actually very late for her since she usually arrived in the office before eight each morning and before anyone else. But today, they were just lucky she’d decided to come in at all.
“The senior wants to see you ASAP,” Neshawn said as soon as she approached her desk.
Vanna groaned. “Do you know what it’s about?”
Neshawn shook her head. “Nope. Just that he’s been out here twice since he came in twenty minutes ago, asking if you were in yet. I toldhim you were running late, and he said for you to come directly to his office when you arrived.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then I haven’t arrived yet. I’m gonna go to my office first; then I’ll go see him.”
Her stomach growled as she walked to her office. Skipping breakfast was never a good idea—for her, anyway. But she hadn’t wanted to open her refrigerator and see the containers that held the makings for the daily smoothie she’d started having. And she certainly didn’t want to stand in that kitchen and listen to Granny ask what she was having for lunch, what she wanted her to cook for dinner, and what the hell had happened between her and Aden last night. She had no doubt her grandmother knew he’d come over and also that he hadn’t stayed.
Pushing all that out of her mind, she dropped her purse into her desk drawer but grabbed her phone and slipped it into the pocket of her dress—she loved a maxi dress with pockets. After mumbling a quick prayer for strength and peace, she left her office and made her way down the hall that would lead to HC Sr.’s corner office.
She knocked on the partially open door, then pushed it the rest of the way. “Good morning, you wanted to see me?”
HC Sr., with his wiry silver beard and beady brown eyes, looked up from his desk. He lifted a hand to wave her in. “Shut the door.”
So, noGood morning—that was odd. HC Sr. was a lot of things, but he wasn’t normally rude. In fact, he was quite the gentleman around the office, something that obviously hadn’t rubbed off on his son.
Doing as he said, she made her way farther into the office and took a seat in the guest chair across from his desk.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Do we need to talk about the settlement conference coming up later this week?”
“No, no. Junior has that all under control. And you already know to have all the paperwork ready for when we send you the numbers,” he said, sitting back in his chair.
“I do,” she replied with a nod. She wanted to ask again what this was about but decided to just wait.
“Two detectives came to see me yesterday,” he said without further preamble.
Damn. All that work she’d done this morning to get her mind in a decent enough place to come to work and function with at least 75 percent clarity today had just flown right out the window.
“They had a lot of questions about your job duties and how I perceived your performance. Or if I ever suspected you of stealing.” He folded his hands in his lap, his thin lips moving at what seemed like a slightly slower pace than his words were actually being spoken.
She knew that wasn’t possible, or perhaps it was just because her mind had started operating at less efficacy because she was damn tired of expending so much of its energy on things that just shouldn’t involve her.
“What did you tell them?” she asked, praying her voice sounded confident and unbothered. She couldn’t tell over the loud beating of her heart.
“I told them the truth,” he said. “That you’ve been a good employee for the last eight years. That you handle our money with efficiency and integrity as if it were your own, and that I’ve never, not for one second, suspected you of doing anything dishonorable where our accounts are concerned.”
Well, that was a relief—not that she thought his answer should’ve been any different. It’s just that with all that was going on, she couldn’t predict a damn thing right now. And she didn’t really know who she could trust.
“Thank you,” she said, because it felt like the right response.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, then raised a brow that was as bushy and silver as his beard. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
She didn’t want to tell him. Hadn’t wanted any of this to get back to her place of employment, but here they were.
