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WHEN WE ARRIVED AT Wenn, we entered the building and crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators at the opposite end. Alex pressed the call button, we waited a moment for the doors to open, and when they did, we stepped inside.
“I received a text from Ann before we left,” he said. “Something about Singapore. I need to see her.”
I shot him a look, but I didn’t say what I was thinking, if only because of what he’d just gone through. Our SlimPhone was manufactured in Singapore.
“Do you need me to come with you?”
“I know you plan on seeing Blackwell. If I need you, I’ll call you on your cell as soon as I do. I don’t know what this is about. It might be nothing. Go and see Barbara—she’s a cauldron of information, and will already have an idea of how people are responding to the Post story. Would you mind having flowers sent to Henri? White roses—many of them. I’ll write a personal note to him, and you can do the same if you want.”
“Of course I will.”
He shook his head and took a breath. “I’m sorry if I’m tense, Jennifer.”
“You have every reason to be,” I said. “Just know that I’m here for you. Last night was too much for anyone to absorb. Alex, if you need the day to yourself, just say it. I understand. You need to absorb this. I can disappear until later tonight if you need to spend the day with work and with your own thoughts. Someone once said to me that our work saves us. You might just need to work.”
“Why would I refuse you when I need you most?”
“Then I’m here for you—whenever you need me.”
With one fluid motion, he turned to me, held my face in his hands, and kissed me with such meaning, I could feel all of his frustration, loss, disappointment, and anger course through my body, only it was filtered through me with love. Our kiss lingered, and what passed between us were all the feelings one would only share with a lover. The kiss was that raw. The palms of his hands were that hot. I gave myself over to him and tried to absorb of much of his pain and his anger as I could, if only to take it all away from him so he wouldn’t hurt any longer—even though I knew that was impossible.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said in my ear. “I’d be lost without you today. And so many other days. You’re my anchor. If you weren’t at my side today, I probably would have punched that reporter in the face. And where would that have gotten me?”
“In jail,” I said, trying me best to lift the moment if only to bring the best of him back to me. “Where would I have found the spare change to bail you out? Do they take a credit card at the police department?”
He managed to smile at that, and then he moved in for another kiss. I closed my eyes when our lips met—more tenderly this time—and I could feel that he wasn’t quite here with me even though he was trying to be. He was that overwhelmed. That shaken and that sad. I didn’t know what to do other than to be there for him, but increasingly, it felt as if he just needed some time alone, which I understood.
The elevator started to slow as it reached the forty-seventh floor. When the door slid open, Alex only gave me a promise that he’d see me soon before he stepped out.
And then he was gone—and when he went, my heart followed.
* * *
WHEN I ARRIVED AT BLACKWELL’S office, she was poised over her desk, her black bob hanging over one side of her face, and she had each of the city’s newspapers spread out in front of her. The one that she had clutched in her hand was the Post.
It was no surprise to me that her hand was trembling with rage.
“I’ve heard of yellow journalism,” she said when she looked up at me as I entered the room. “But this has nothing but the stink of urine all over it. How dare they do this to Alex and to you—not to mention to Audric’s memory, and also to Henri. Poor Henri. I’m so angry after reading this that I want to throttle someone. I want to tar and feather the bastard who took these photos—and then I want to set him on fire.”
“Please do.”
“I’ve known Audric and Henri longer than I’ve known Alex. They were and are the very best this city has to offer, and that paper dares to do this to them? After what they have done for people? Not on my watch. I’ve already got Robert in PR working on demanding a retraction. Our legal team is assisting him. Indirectly, they have accused Alex of not saving that man’s life, which is libelous. I’m out for blood. But more than anything, I’m devastated.”
“I think we all are.”
She held up the cover of the Post—and I was once again faced with my own startled expression, now fodder for the entire city to mull over and judge, and through the Post’s popular website, the world at large would do the same since this would indeed become national news. “They’re going to pay for this,” Blackwell said. “You’ll see.”
“I hope that they do.”
“You look exhausted,” she said when her gaze swept over me.
“I am.”
She motioned toward the chair in front of me. “Sit there,” she said. “I should have noticed it the moment you entered my office. I’m so sorry for what happened to all of you last night. Would you like coffee? Margaret would be happy to get you a fresh cup.”
“I appreciate that, but I’ve already thrown up once this morning. A solid dose of caffeine on an empty stomach would probably only make me sick again.”
“Are you all right now?”
“Still a bit queasy.”
“It will pass soon. The anger won’t, but the nausea will. You’ll see.”
The truth was that I felt miserable, but I was trying my best to not let it show. Nobody needed to be concerned about my stomach issues now, so I just pushed through them because they were meaningless in the face of what had happened.
“I assume the press were waiting for Alex and you when you left your apartment this morning?” Blackwell said.
“They were.”
“Of course they were. Like bees to a hive. What happened?”
I took the seat opposite her, waited for her to sit down, and then told her what Alex had said to the crowd when we left our apartment.
Blackwell waved her hand. “Another reason I love that boy.”
“Agreed.”
“That tribute to Audric came from your husband’s heart. So did the fury he unleashed on the sonofabitch who took the photos. Are you concerned about what he said to him?”
“Not at all. That coward deserved it. Alex tried to save Audric. So did I, but neither of us could make it in time. People witnessed it. The city will take his side.”
“Alex knew exactly what he was doing this morning. From the sounds of it, he properly celebrated his friend, and then he called out the enemy. While I wish it was Audric the press was focusing on in today’s blogs, tonight’s broadcasts, and tomorrow’s papers, I’m afraid, that after what Alex said to the press this morning, Audric will get only a passing mention. Not that that’s a bad thing. For the most part, that scrawny reporter from the Post will be vilified, as will the paper itself. In a sense, that will actually honor Audric.”
“I wish you could have seen Alex, Barbara. He spoke so eloquently. What he had to say about Audric was beautiful and touching. When he was finished talking about Audric’s impact on his own life, he said that he hoped that others would come forward with their own stories, and spread them to anyone who would listen. I think that they will. As we come closer to the day that Audric is buried, the stories about his philanthropy will only increase. After what Alex said, I believe in that, especially because so much of what Audric did for this city was done anonymously.” I paused. “I never knew Audric until last night. I had no idea how close he and Alex were.”
“They were extremely close. Audric was a lovely man. Back in the day, when he could still walk, I had the pleasure of dancing with him a few times. He was nothing if not elegant on the dance floor. And a gentleman at heart. I’m devastated by his passing—and especially by the way that he died, which was beyond horrible. Since this morning, when I first heard of it, I’ve been angry, and I’ve been depressed—but most of all, I’ve been thinking of how kind he was, and how much I’ll miss him. I only wish you’d known him as well as we did. Alex spoke well of him for a reason. Audric meant more to Alex than many realize—but now they’ll know. The man was that special. That giving. And I do believe that people will come out with their own stories, likely before his burial, which would be wonderful, if only for Henri’s sake. I have to believe that he will have a beautiful, meaningful send off. Because that’s what he deserves. And then there’s that fool Epifania Zapopa, who got in his lap when she should have known better. She’s the one who killed him.”
“No, she isn’t. I was there. Epifania didn’t want to get in that chair with him—she resisted several times, but Audric was insistent. He kept pressing for her to do so. I think there came a point when she couldn’t say no to him anymore without looking rude. Yes, she got in the chair with him, but his death is not her fault. It was nothing more than a chain of events that led to the chair malfunctioning before the inevitable happened. Epifania is not to blame for this, but she’ll unfairly take a great deal of the heat for it. I plan on calling her later today, and sending her flowers. Audric pressured her into sitting in his lap—I witnessed it. She resisted until she couldn’t decline any longer. You need to reassess how you feel about her. She’s not a bad person, and none of this is on her.”
“Fair enough. You were there, and I wasn’t, so naturally I trust your judgment. But tell me—why in the hell was she wearing that white dress?”
“Immaculata convinced her to buy it.”
“And we paid for it?”
“You know that we did.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Actually, the whole night was unbelievable. It didn’t begin and end with Audric, you know? For me, it began with Stephen Rowe.”
She furrowed her brow at me. “What does that mean?”
I told her what I learned about Rowe, the dance I coerced him into having with me, and how I threatened him on the dance floor.
“Close the door,” she said. I shut it behind me. “Rowe has a mistress?”
“I understand her name is Janice Jones.”
“How fitting—the name of a true tramp. Who told you this?”
“Tank.”
“How did Tank know any of this?”
“He didn’t know that he did. But when he told me that he was friends with the head of Rowe’s security, I asked him to ask the man if he had anything on Rowe. That question was a long shot—I knew it was when I asked it. But it paid off. Tank came through yet again. Apparently, Rowe’s security chief hates his boss, or he never would have spilled what he knew.”
“I can’t believe this,” Blackwell said. “Rowe must be quivering at this point. Well played, my dear. Nothing short of a pro.”
“Nobody fucks with my husband,” I said. “At least not as long as I can help it.”
“Apparently,” she said as she eased back in her seat. She steepled her fingers and looked at me over them with a clear sense of pride. “And that’s just another reason your marriage will last.”
She was about to say something more when a knock came at her door.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you have a meeting?”
She looked at her watch, took a breath, and fingered her bob away from her face. “Not exactly. My daughters have obviously just returned from university. That will be Daniella and Alexa. Would you like me to put them off so we can talk a bit more?”
“I think I’ve said enough.”
“Then I hope your stomach is feeling better, my dear, because you know exactly how those two can be—utter tyrants.” She stood and smoothed her hands down the length of her chic black suit. “So, gird your loins, girl—and let me apologize now for all that’s about to come your way. It won’t be pretty. In fact, knowing them, it will be pretty ugly.”
