“I’m not in hiding. It’s…okay. Obviously, a lot of money was lost. Right?”
She nodded.
“The Justice Department filed a civil lawsuit against Cyr Martin attempting to recoup some of those funds.”
“The US government lost money, too?”
“Yes. And they’re also trying to recoup on behalf of the investment firms. But,” I waved my hand dismissively, because the civil suit didn’t have any bearing on my situation, “as our lawyers predicted, they hit pause on the civil suit and are now pursuing a criminal case.”
“Against Cyr Martin? How does that relate to you?”
“Against Cyr Martin and any individuals they deem to be a party to the various crimes.”
“Were you involved?”
“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “But my firm was the initial underwriter in his shell company. Our firm should have caught it. My managing director is currently camped out in Singapore. We’re expecting charges against him any day now.”
“And how does that involve you?” She pointed a well-manicured finger to my chest.
“I’m a hedge fund manager.” I paused to see if she understood or had questions. Her facial expression silently communicated Duh. “Okay. So, I invested in his fund. I also sold a day before the scandal erupted. But I swear I didn’t know. I went to a lot of Martin’s parties. The guy had enormous parties. Like, million-dollar mega parties all over the world. I liked the guy. We hung out. But I swear I had no inside information. Maybe at the beginning, but not when I sold.”
“Why’d you sell?”
And that right there was why I appeared culpable. I’d made tons of money off that investment. But I’d heard from a guy that one of their hotels had sat incomplete for almost a year. A friend told me one of the government leaders sold stock, and that guy was beyond close to Cyr. And I had another great investment opportunity. An inside source tipped me off that Google Alphabet might acquire them. I jumped on rumors. Which didn’t look good to the SEC, but having an ear to the ground was the hidden sauce to my investment strategy. I steepled my hands and met her sharp blue gaze head on.
“I saw the signs. I had an opportunity. I moved. My lawyers feel confident I’ll be cleared. The firm wants to distance themselves from me in case the Justice Department launches an investigation targeting me individually. That’s the real reason. The official reason is they want to allow me to focus on my defense.”
“Are you still employed?”
“It’s a paid leave of absence. But that managing director I mentioned?”
She nodded.
“He called last week, and they terminated his employment.”
“What will you do if they do that to you?”
“Live the beach life?” I held my hands up in the air and smiled, even though I felt nothing close to a smile. The whole situation burned me up and left me powerless. No other firm would touch me until this situation cleared. The only thing I could do was trust my lawyers when they said it would one day be behind me.
“That really sucks.” She reached out and squeezed my knee. Nothing in her attitude led me to believe she thought I was guilty. Every person in my office looked at me like I had to have done something wrong. Even my dad spoke encouraging words, but the unspoken message assumed guilt and that I might need him to call in favors. Poppy’s warm expression showed no judgement, like maybe she understood what it was like to have the world assume the worst about you.
“Thanks.” I stood and found my way to the back wall of windows. Turning my back to her, I feigned an interest in the outdoor view. I felt her watching, unabashedly studying me. Fine by me. I had her where I wanted her. “You’ll move in?”
“I’ve got four more weeks on my lease.” Her tone reeked of apology.
“Perfect. Plenty of time to plan the move.”
Chapter 14
Poppy
The wind picked up and whipped my hair as I opened the door. Thunderstorms loomed in the distance.
“Let me grab an umbrella,” I shouted to Gabe as I spun to re-enter my home. He caught my wrist.
“I’ve got it. And I drove the Garia. We’re safe.”
“Ah, yes, the ritzy cart.” The cart had doors—like, physical doors. A couple of year-rounders owned them, and I imagined they were quite nice in the rain, but on a sunny day, no, thank you.
“How’s your week been?” he asked as I settled in the seat, taking care to ensure my long, flowing skirt didn’t get trapped in the metal door.
“Good. Busy.”
“Any progress on the restaurant front?”
“I’ve been mainly focusing on my classwork and preparing for final exams.”
“They have exams? Isn’t it a seminar?”
“Well, you get a certification. And I’m sure they aren’t, you know, like college exams, but I still need to study. How was your week?” He’d tried several times to get together, but I kept putting him off. But me being me, I found it hard to say no to him, and so here we were on our first official date. A date I’d be so much more relaxed on if we were going as friends. That was how Ben and I worked it for four years. The friends thing had drawbacks, sure, but there was also a comfort to it.
“Fine. I’m doing the day trading thing. Keeps my mind fresh.” His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his response fell flat.
“You’re going out of your mind, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “Bored out of my fucking mind. There’s an airfield nearby, and I flew a few times this week, mostly over the South Carolina and Georgia coast. Found a hang-gliding place near Nags Head. I think I might try that next week.”
“There’s a SCUBA place in Wilmington. There are some cool wreck dives you can go on off the coast.”
“Do you dive?”
“No. I tried it out once. I got about ten feet down, panicked, and swam up. Pulled the instructor
