Chapter 19
I stared at the message on my phone.
It's Adam. Save my number. Call if you need anything.
I let out a bitter laugh. Need anything? Like what? Like an explanation for why he vanished five years ago?
My thumb hovered over the screen. I should delete it. Block him. Pretend tonight never happened.
Instead, I saved the number.
Then I scrolled up to the old contact—Adam—and tapped delete. That number had been dead for five years. Not that it stopped me from calling it. Over and over. Listening to the automated voice tell me the number was no longer in service.
I dropped the phone on the couch and rubbed my face. What the hell was I doing?
---
Amy's voice floated from the bathroom. "Mommy! I'm done!"
I pushed myself up and walked to the bathroom. She stood wrapped in a towel, water dripping onto the floor, her blonde curls plastered to her head.
"Good job, baby." I grabbed another towel and dried her hair. "Let's get you into your pajamas."
"Can I wear the ones with the stars?"
"Sure."
I led her to the bedroom and pulled out her star-patterned pajamas from the drawer. While she wriggled into them, I grabbed my own clothes from the closet—underwear, an old T-shirt, pajama pants.
As I opened the underwear drawer, something tumbled out and hit the floor.
I bent down and picked it up.
Officer Judy Hopps.
The rabbit plush stared up at me with its embroidered smile, one ear slightly bent from years of being shoved to the back of the drawer.
My chest tightened.
"Maya! Where are you going?"
I turned around. Adam stood near the Zootopia merchandise booth, holding up the rabbit plush. His hair was messy from the wind, and he was grinning like an idiot.
"You said you loved Judy Hopps," he said, walking toward me. "So I got her for you."
I blinked. "When did you—"
"While you were taking pictures with the character actress." He pressed the plush into my hands. "You thought I ditched you, didn't you?"
"I—" My voice cracked. "I thought you left."
His expression softened. He reached up and brushed a tear off my cheek. "I'd never leave you."
A drop of water hit the plush.
I looked down. My vision blurred.
Fuck.
I turned away from Amy and wiped my eyes quickly. Then I walked to the small trash can beside the nightstand and dropped the plush inside.
---
After dinner, I stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing dishes while Amy sat at the table with her coloring book.
"Mommy, can I help take out the trash?"
I glanced over my shoulder. She was already climbing off her chair, eager to be useful.
"Sure, sweetheart. Thank you."
She beamed and ran to the living room to collect the small bin.
I rinsed the last plate and dried my hands. Amy returned with the living room trash, then headed toward the bedrooms.
Shit.
The trash can in my room.
I dropped the towel and hurried after her. "Amy, wait—"
But she was already in the hallway, heading for my door.
I reached the bedroom just as she bent down to grab the small bin. Inside, the plush rabbit sat on top of a crumpled tissue.
"I got it, Mommy!" She lifted the bin carefully.
"I'll take that one." I reached for it quickly. "You take the bathroom trash instead, okay?"
"Okay!" She set the bin down and skipped toward the bathroom.
I waited until she disappeared around the corner. Then I pulled the plush out of the trash and brushed off the dust.
Why can't I just throw it away?
I opened the closet and shoved it into the back corner, behind a stack of old sweaters. Out of sight.
---
Monday morning came too fast.
I got back from my run at 7:00. Amy was already at the table, dressed in her favorite purple shirt, her blonde curls pulled back with a clip.
"Morning, baby." I poured cereal into a bowl and set it in front of her.
"Morning, Mommy." She picked up her spoon and started eating.
I made myself coffee and leaned against the counter, checking my phone. No messages. No updates on the car.
Great. I'd have to take the T again.
I grabbed my bag and kissed her head. "Be good. I'll check the camera."
"Okay, Mommy."
---
I made it to the office at 8:52, breathless and sweaty from sprinting the last two blocks.
Julian's two assistants—Sarah and Mark—were already at their desks. They looked up when I walked in, their expressions carefully neutral.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning," Sarah replied, her tone flat.
I dropped my bag at my desk and logged into my computer. Sarah and Mark went back to their work.
They weren't Julian's assistants. They were Thomas Garrison's eyes and ears.
If his brother hadn't had an accident, Thomas wouldn't have called Julian back. But he didn't trust him. So he planted Sarah and Mark in the office, watching every move Julian made.
---
At 10:00, Julian called a meeting. It lasted three hours.
By the time it ended, I was starving. I grabbed my wallet and headed down to the cafeteria, ordered a salad, and ate alone at a corner table.
When I got back to my desk, Sarah told me Julian had gone to Sterling Global.
I exhaled slowly. Thank God he didn't ask me to go with him.
---
Around 4:00, Mark leaned over his desk and said, "Did you hear about Victoria?"
Sarah snorted. "Who hasn't?"
I glanced up from my computer. "What happened?"
Mark grinned. "She showed up at Adam Sterling's house last week. Set up a whole show—hired people to hold signs, brought a megaphone, declared her love in front of his neighbors."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Yeah. He called the cops. She got arrested for harassment."
Sarah laughed. "Someone filmed it. The video's everywhere."
"Thomas is still in the hospital," Mark added. "High blood pressure."
Holy shit.
Adam was ruthless. He'd called the cops. Had her arrested. Didn't give a damn about the Garrison family's reputation.
I better stay the hell away from him. He probably thinks I'm trying to trap him too.
---
At 5:00, Julian walked back in, grinning.
"We got it." He dropped his briefcase on my desk. "The Austin deal. Sterling picked three companies for the tech park. We're one of them."
He disappeared into his office before I could respond.
---
The week dragged on. By Friday, I still hadn't heard from Adam.
I checked my phone during lunch, then again at 3:00. Still nothing.
Maybe he forgot.
At 5:30, I gave in. I walked outside and dialed his number.
It rang twice.
"What is it?" His voice was cold, clipped.
"I—" I cleared my throat. "I was calling about my car. Is it ready?"
Silence.
Then: "Come to 50 Liberty in a bit. Penthouse 2201."
I assumed the car was parked there. "Okay. I'll head over."