Page 35 of Ms. Fortune

“How can you say that? My dad had years to figure this out and couldn't do it. And now he's dead. They fucking killed him.” She runs a shaky hand through her hair. “Can you call Taylor and check on them to make sure Chelsie is OK? I need to know that she's OK. I need to call my mother again.”

She’s rambling and about to lose it, so I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Fine. I will call Taylor to check on them, but I can almost guarantee they're perfectly fine.” I briefly cringe inwardly at the phrase ‘perfectly fine,’ but push it just as quickly out of my brain. I dial Taylor with the speakerphone active, and he answers on the first ring.

“Sir?”

“Taylor, I'm calling to confirm that you and Chelsie are, in fact, fine.”

“Yes, Sir. We are OK and on the way back.”

“Thank you, Taylor. See you soon.” I disconnect the call and shove the phone into my back pocket. “There. As you heard, they are unharmed.”

As I glance up at her, I notice she has stopped pacing. She's standing in the middle of the kitchen with her arms crossed and the crease between her brows deepening.

“How long have you known all of this, Brandon?” The ice in her tone sends a chill racing down my spine.

I can't help but swallow hard. I know she's not going to like my answer.

“Since before the gala.”

“How could you keep something like this from me? Don’t I deserve to know something like this?”

“I didn't want to worry you until I had all the facts. And I still don't have them all. The police are still investigating. “

“Why wouldn't the police talk to me about this? I would think law enforcement would keep the next of kin informed of a potential murderer on the loose. Did you pay them to keep quiet? Is that why nobody’s talked to me about this? Would being with someone like me ruin your reputation? Is my family now suddenly a disgrace to you? A social media optics risk?”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, I didn't pay anybody, and this has nothing to do with me. As I said, I didn't want to upset you like you obviously are until the police finished their investigation.” I can't believe she just accused me of paying off the police to be quiet. “Is that really what you think of me? That I would bribe law enforcement to keep quiet? Or that I’m somehow ashamed to be connected with you? Really, Normandy?”

She doesn't meet my eyes and starts pacing again.

“I don't know what to think, and that includes about you. Excuse me if I'm not reacting correctly, but I'm currently processing a lot of information. In a matter of a few hours, I discovered that my father got himself into a shit load of trouble, then at some point in my life, my mother was kidnapped, and now my father was most likely murdered, and Chelsie and I could be next.”

“I understand. And this is precisely why I didn't want to tell you anything until I had the facts.”

“Yeah, well, so much for not getting me upset.” She throws her hands up in exasperation and leans against the counter. I close the distance between us and try to pull her into a hug, but she yanks her hands away.

“Normandy….”

“Just don't, Brandon. I don't need to be babied right now.”

I hold my hands up and step away. “Whatever you need me to do, I'm here for you.”

The following 20 minutes are awkward as we wait for Taylor and Chelsie to return. Normandy can barely look at me, let alone be in the same room, and she definitely doesn't want to be near me. That has been made abundantly clear. She practically leaps away if I even step in her general direction. I know she is processing a lot of devastating news, and everyone does that differently. Apparently, Normandy needs space to do that, so I give it to her. Whatever she needs right now from me, she will get.

When Taylor and Chelsie arrive back at the house, it's clear to at least Chelsie that the mood has changed between Normandy and me, and she gives me a questioning glance. I don't know how to respond because I don't know what's happening either.

“I think the two of you should come with me back to New York, at least for the time being, until the police have finished their investigation.” This time Taylor gives me a questioning look, but I ignore him. This is the only proactive thing I can do right now, so I at least have to put the option out there for the two of them.

The sisters gaze at each other and have a silent conversation, at the end of which Chelsie shrugs her shoulders, and Normandy scowls.

I’ll take that as a yes. “Right. So, Chelsie, I assume all of your things are already packed, which leaves Normandy to get some things together before we go.”

“I didn't say I was going anywhere.” She glares at Chelsie. “We do have a business to run, remember?”

“Norm, I don't know if I feel safe here or at the depot. I do know that I'll feel safer in New York. Besides, Bianca can handle things for a few days.”

Chelsie is now my favorite person outside of Normandy in this room. Like an asshole, I hadn't considered their business, and what Chelsie says does make sense to me, at least. The question is still whether it makes sense to her sister or not. Normandy chews on her bottom lip as she considers it, and that habit of hers will drive me to distraction.

“It feels like we're running away. Like we are hiding, and I'm not comfortable with that,” she sighs deeply and continues, “but I also know it's probably the right thing to do at the moment.” She turns to me. “We will accept your offer to go to New York, but I insist that we pay for our accommodations at the very least.”

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