“Have you been having sex with her?”
“What? No! We’ve—I mean, she tried to kiss me, after a work thing where people were drinking a little too much. I regret that I didn’t pull away a bit faster, but that’s all that happened.”
It was almost identical to the way he’d explained away Kim, all those years ago. Either he didn’t remember, or he didn’t care enough to invent a new scenario.
“You’re sure that’s all it is?” she asked.
He nodded a little too vigorously.
“You need to deal with this now, and you need to start by staying away from her so people don’t get the wrong idea. I’d hate to have to see you take out a restraining order against a valued employee.”
If he heard the sarcasm in her voice, he didn’t acknowledge it. He reached out and gripped her closest hand in both of his.
“Holly, I’m so sorry I haven’t handled this better,” he said, choking up. “Things are so crazy in both our lives right now, but you’re my touchstone, and I’m afraid I’ve been taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”
Not this time, she thought, so revolted by his touch she almost yanked her hands away. But until she figured out how to provide security for Ava, Paige, and Logan—and to make sure her parents’ finances were safe—she would refrain from telling Jack.
Closing her eyes to make it easier, she leaned forward and gave him a dry peck on the cheek.
His relieved expression told her it was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JESSICA AND HOLLY
Events will not always be under your control.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
Jessica had now been secretly married for exactly thirteen days, one hour, and twenty-six minutes. In that time, she’d been a blushing (and tan) bride in Cancún and enjoyed a week’s worth of married bliss. She’d been delighted when Jon sent Marco back to Omaha in her place so they could spend their second week of married life together at home, but that plan was scuttled when Ellen McBride, the head of marketing, came down with walking pneumonia and Jon told Jessica to fill in for her at a medical innovations symposium in Germany.
“Send someone else,” Jessica had said. “Anyone from marketing can give the Cancura spiel as well as I can.”
“If that were all that’s required, you know I would,” Jon had told her. “Jessie, you’re in the inner sanctum now. You need to expect to be called on at a moment’s notice. But more than that, you’re one of our rising stars. The visibility is crucial for you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, torn between his praise and her frustration at being separated so soon.
“But we wouldn’t be together all week anyway. I just found out I have to go to Japan to discuss an IP swap with the head of Tangyo Bio-Innovations.”
Her sigh had been heartfelt. “We should be on our honeymoon, not headed to opposite sides of the globe.”
“We will have a honeymoon, and we’ll go around the world if you want,” he’d said, touching her cheek tenderly, even though Olivia was just outside the glass wall and definitely would have noted it if she’d been looking up. “I promise.”
Now that she was back in her own time zone, and despite missing a week of what would surely have been newlywed bliss, she had to admit that Jon was right. She’d spent the entire week building relationships with company heads who were full of enthusiastic questions about the Revelate’s seemingly endless potential. Not to mention that Gunnar Andersson from Genovis and Hans Möller from Siemens Healthineers were politely competing for the chance to wine and dine her.
She glanced at her ring finger. Ironically, she’d flown home over Antwerp, where her absent ring was currently being crafted.
She’d landed only a couple of hours from bedtime but felt jittery, wide awake, and compelled to go grocery shopping so once she finally did crash, she’d wake up to fresh coffee, milk, bread, and fruit.
As she parked at the Whole Foods on Ashland and headed into the store, however, the overly alert sensation gave way to a foggy, slow-motion feeling. And maybe it was the lighting, the comforting din of a familiar language, and the uniquely American colorfully packaged abundance, but she kept thinking she spotted familiar faces among the other customers.
She felt accompanied, likely by her own shadow, as she made her way through the produce section toward Pink Lady apples that, although organic, somehow looked larger, more colorful, and obscenely healthier than their mildly bruised European counterparts. Batting away a brain-dead thought about the underbelly of Big Agriculture, she collected four apples in a compostable bag and a bunch of bananas, grapes, and salad fixings.
As she made her way to the seafood counter to pick out a piece of salmon for tomorrow night’s dinner, when Jon returned from Japan, and then went up and down the aisles to collect a pound of coffee, the cardboard-tasting granola Jon loved, and a few other odds and ends absent from their pantry, the jet lag really started to get to her. She spotted Yulia’s wild red hair—but it wasn’t her, unless she’d gained sixty pounds in the past two weeks. She veered around Marco’s partner—if he happened to be taller and Asian. Not only did her limbs feel heavy and the floor seem like it wasn’t flat, but the uneasy sensation of shopping with her shadow gave way to a feeling she was being watched.
Clearly, it was time to go home and climb into bed, but the aromas of wood-fired pizza, barbecued meat, and savory soup made her stomach growl. Before she headed to the register, Jessica made her way into the labyrinth of prepared foods. While she usually went straight for the salad bar or perhaps
