Page 9 of Addicted

Sighing, I stood up and shoved the ring and box back into my bag.

“I—have to get back to work. I know it’s weird. But, thank you.” I whispered. She didn’t have to pull me aside so discreetly. For that reason alone, I was never going to buy jewelry anywhere else.

“Yeah, girl, of course.”

“The next time you see me, I’m getting these earrings you have on.” I watched as the pear-shaped diamonds glimmered in the light.

Sherry pulled out a business card and slid it into my briefcase.

“Call me, I’ll get you a good deal. Also, call me if you need to talk.”

I felt my eyes start to tear and I cleared my throat, forcing them back. Sherry was a good one.

“I will.” I smiled at her and headed back out the door, thankful that I had a few hours to figure out what the fuck my next steps were going to be before I went home.

CHAPTER 5

DENISE

My walk back to Foxx was a blur. I had planned to stop and grab a sandwich to eat at my desk, but I didn’t even remember lunch until I was already walking back to my office. As I sat back down, I was eternally grateful that this was the lightest day of my week. It meant that I could sit and think and breathe.

Taking deep breaths, I found myself looking at my briefcase. Knowing what was in there made me want to chuck it off the roof.

The numbness had begun to fade and a calm, clear-headed rage was beginning to take its place. I imagined this is what the women on death row must feel right before they commit murder. Not blinding, passionate fury, but an eerily composed ferocity. I didn’t know what I was going to do with that feeling, but I did know that I couldn’t face Curtis feeling this way.

I pulled out my phone and texted Cleo, my partner in all things mischievous.

SOS.

Cleo messaged back almost immediately, and I snorted.

Who are we plotting to kill?

I replied with one word.

BITCH.

Her reply was immediate.

Say no more, I’ll meet you at 6 with the flask.

Taking another deep breath, I did what I could to put my feelings in a box. I had a job to do, and I needed to stay sharp. There were a few emails from folks I needed to reply to and then I had to get started on my pet project: an upcycling furniture startup.

I spent the next half an hour stalking someone that I knew would be a great fit for these founders. They needed a seed investor who truly understood the value of mass-market furniture that used what folks threw away. Before I could bring this startup to anyone, I had to make sure I had all my ducks in a row.

My day went on like that, me throwing work on top of my stress, until I got a ping on my chat that I had a visitor downstairs that I hadn’t signed in. The clock read six and I felt like an even bigger jerk. I’m sure Cleo had messaged my cell, but I’d put it on silent.

Shit.

I typed a quick message back to the front desk to let them know I’d meet her down in the lobby in a second as I started throwing stuff into my briefcase. Part of being in this fancy-schmancy ass place was tight security. If Cleo wasn’t on the guest list for today, she wouldn’t be allowed up. Even if they did let her up on her own, someone would need to open the door for her with a different key card.

Cleo was used to me forgetting about her downstairs. Getting drunk on a work night wasn’t unusual for us. I thanked my anxious brain for leaving a few outfits in her closet. We could get loaded and set up a plan.

I needed something concrete and written down before I confronted Curtis. Maybe even a prepared statement that I printed and read out loud to make sure I was saying all the things I needed to say. And a space without any sharp objects, lest I lose my mind and throw one at his face.

I was looking back at my desk to make sure I had gotten everything as I ran out the door and right into someone.

It was Hugh.