“It’s not my first choice, I assure you,” he said, an uncomfortable grin twisting his mouth.
“It’s my house, Jared. You’re coming,” I said. I looked at Bex, then. “And there’s a room for you, too.”
“I have a room, thanks,” Bex said.
“Nina,” Jared began.
I held up my hand. “If you make me go to that house alone, I will spend all of my time in Jack’s office. I'll move my bed in there. I swear to God.”
Jared had once told me that Jack's office was the only room in my parents' home that wasn't wired with microphones or cameras. Jared could still hear me, of course, but having to guess what I was doing drove him crazy.
Jared smiled. “Don’t swear at Him. We need Him on our side.”
I frowned. “You know what I mean.”
He sighed. “Cynthia’s it is, then.”
Chapter Nine
Killing the Messenger
Nothing goes as planned. People say goodbye. Buildings burn, and the impossibility of moving back in with Cynthia Grey after the age of eighteen can actually happen.
As I stood before the colossal home my father left to me after his death, I felt a bit nauseous at the prospect of walking its halls everyday again. Some of my best and worst memories happened within those walls: Jack chasing me down the halls, cooking my first meal, my father dying before my eyes, and everything I thought he was slipping away as I read a hidden file on the second floor.
But it was still home.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet as Jared walked me up the steps to the front door. The sun had hidden behind the thick clouds that were quickly moving in, and the air smelled like a mixture of winter and spring.
I took a deep breath and let it out as the wind blew the blonde strands of my hair against my cheek. “I’m going to get unpacked and organized. I have to go into Titan before they think I’ve defected.”
Jared tossed the keys to Bex. “Update Mom and Claire. I need you back here at six thirty.”
Bex nodded once. “You got it.”
The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as we walked in, and Cynthia's heals signaled her approach. She stopped suddenly in the foyer.
“Oh! You startled me. Really, Nina, you could at least call if you’re going to visit so early.”
“We’re not visiting. We’re moving in,” I said, making my way up the stairs.
Cynthia rushed to the first step, looking up at us. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Jared turned to face her. “Donovan set explosives in the loft. Everything except what’s in our bags is gone.”
Cynthia paused for a moment, a common tactic of hers to calm her voice before she spoke when she was angry or taken off-guard. “Well. I’m glad Nina’s safe. How long will you be staying?”
“Indefinitely,” I said.
I had reached the top before she spoke again.
“You’re filthy,” she snapped, her heels clicking to the kitchen.
I smiled. She was always snippy when she didn’t want to show emotion — the soft sort.
Trying to find a professional ensemble from my high school wardrobe was nothing short of frustrating. It was then that it hit me that all of my belongings were gone. Everything Jared and I had purchased together, the bed we shared…the downstairs tub. Different items in the loft flickered through my mind. It was strange how each of them, however insignificant they used to seem, were attached to a memory.
Tears pooled in my eyes and escaped down my cheek. I wiped them away and groaned. “I have nothing to wear! What was I thinking buying this crap?” I yelled. “Not a single pair of pumps matches anything in my closet!”
Jared sat on the end of bed, letting me express my anger and frustration with an understanding expression. After the rage-fueled tirade to find the right pair of shoes, I rode with Jared to Titan Mercantile.
We didn't speak for most of the trip. Jared kept his eyes on the road, no doubt formulating a plan for the next step in finding the book. I was too tired to initiate conversation, or to try to find out piece by piece what plan of action he was considering.
“See you soon,” Jared smiled.
I kissed his cheek, and then stepped out onto the curb, looking back once more before pushing through the entrance doors.
Beth waited me for me in my office, already organizing my call list in order of importance.
“And don’t forget the conference with the Japanese firm at nine,” she said, her head down.
“I’ve told you a million times, Beth. Yawatahama. It’s not that hard if you practice.”
Beth raised her hands in frustration and then dropped them, letting the papers in her hands slap her thighs. “I sound ridiculous,” she said. “Sasha laughs at me every time I try.”
“Oh, to hell with Sasha. Ask her to say something German. She sounds like a bloated mule.”
Beth laughed out loud, surprised at my mood. “You’re not sleeping again, are you?”
Two quick knocks, and then Grant opened my office door wide, keeping his hand on the knob. “The prodigal daughter returns! How was your trip?”
“Great, Grant. I’m busy, what do you need?” I said, putting the phone to my ear.
His expression screwed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “The Bainbridge group will be here in twenty minutes, Nina. Why didn’t you just wear pajamas?”
From collarbone to scalp, the burn of infuriation ignited my face in what I was sure was a beautiful shade of tomato red. My outstretched arm, with a rigid, pointed finger at the end, silently warned Grant to leave.
“Back away slowly, Mr. Bristol. No sudden movements,” Beth said.
Grant nodded, stepping backward until he was out of sight.
Beth placed a small bag on my desk. “Foundation, blush, mascara and gloss. Get it on. I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen.”
She closed the door softly behind her, and I took a deep breath.
My cell phone rang once. “Not now, Jared,” I said aloud, knowing he could hear. The second ring cut short. “Thank you,” I whispered. I opened the compact from Beth’s bag, and looked at myself in the mirror. “Holy Banshee, Nina! Get yourself together!” I said to myself.
Sasha stood next to the coffeemaker in the meeting room. “Miss Grey,” she said handing me a fresh, steaming mug.
“Thanks,” I said, frowning with confusion at her polar disposition. Wondering what she was up to was not on my agenda for the morning, not to mention I didn’t have the time or patience for it. That wouldn’t stop me from finding out, however.
The meeting went smoothly, and then I returned to my office, opening the door long enough for Beth to follow me through. I turned to see Grant and Sasha just behind her, but I shut the door. “Not now,” I said flatly.
“Okay, Nina. Totally unprofessional,” Sasha said, half laughing, half surprised.
Beth watched the door for a moment in shock, and then turned to me. “What the heck’s going on with you?” she asked. “And what’s that smell? Have you been…camping?” she said, sniffing once.
I puffed, blowing my bangs from my face. “No. The loft is gone. Burned to the ground.”
“What?” Beth yelped.
“Keep it down. I don’t need a bunch of sympathetic well wishers in and out of my office all day. Do me a favor?”
“Sure, Honey, anything.”
I pulled a black credit card from my purse and handed it to her. “Go shopping for me. I need work clothes
