made it impossible for me to get away. I had my brother and the board breathing down my neck, asking a million questions, demanding solutions—and fast. But first things first, I had to get on the phone with Maxilene and find out where we stood with them.
During my call with Guy yesterday, I’d wanted nothing more than to tell the exec to go ahead and fire her. Hell, I’m still ready to have her blackballed from this industry for good. But with the fate of my family’s business on the line, I couldn’t pull that trigger. Not yet. Monica Shore is making us all a lot of money, even if it feels like dirty money now.
Turning back to the P.I. listings, I click on the first one that looks good. I enter the number into my cell, but before I can finish, a call from one of Danica Rose’s board members comes through. I stare at the screen but I can’t make myself answer. I’m exhausted. I was in the office until midnight trying to put out all the little fires this newest scandal caused. The funny thing is, dealing with this stuff is like second nature to me now. I’m a fucking professional in saving face. Thanks for that, Dad. I send the call to voicemail and set the phone down.
Suddenly, I hear keys jingling in the door, and Mr. Kibbles runs to the door expectantly. My heart jumps into my throat—until I hear Emzee’s voice cooing at the dog. He trots back into the kitchen with his tail between his legs, clearly upset that it’s not Brooklyn. I know the feeling.
Following just behind him, Emzee comes over and drops her bag on the bar top, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder as I rub my face with my hands. “Hey, brother. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll make a few more calls and fix you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She huffs in annoyance. “Shower, then. Move it.”
“I’ll miss her if she calls,” I argue.
“Then leave your phone unlocked and I’ll answer if she calls or texts. Seriously. Go on. You’ll feel better after you clean up.”
Even with my sister trying to literally drag me off of my stool, I refuse to budge. “I won’t feel better until I hear from her. Just sit with me.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Fine.” She slides onto the stool next to mine and takes a drink from my mug, making a face. “Let me at least make you a fresh coffee.”
“Sure.”
I talk her through her bumbling attempts to use my La Marzocco, but she finally gets it.
“Who the hell needs a five-thousand-dollar espresso machine?” she grumbles afterward, setting mugs down for each of us.
“You know it makes damn good coffee,” I remind her.
“Yeah.” She takes a deep sip from her cup and then sighs. “I can’t argue that.”
I close my laptop and let out a breath. “Just tell me one more time how you guys ended your lunch yesterday. Please.”
Emzee sets her coffee back on the bar and then slides off her stool to rub Mr. Kibbles’ belly. She’s clearly tired of recounting her lunch date with Brooklyn in minute detail, but she humors me. “We were at that famous deli in Hyde Park. She left straight from there to go to DRM, I guess about one-thirty-ish. We haven’t talked since. That’s all I know.”
It’s not adding up. “I don’t get it. I was at the office the entire day. My assistant said he saw her in the hallway. But she never came to see me. What the hell happened?”
“Well obviously you missed each other. Are you sure you didn’t step out around 1:45 or so?” Emzee asks. “Even just to go to the bathroom or make a quick call, or—”
“Wait.” I’m going back over my day, one step at a time… “1:45. That was my call with Guy, the marketing exec at Maxilene. Maybe she saw my closed door and just left. Or maybe she overheard something.”
“What was the call about?” Emzee asks.
I recap the conversation. How Guy was ready to kick Monica off the Maxilene campaign over the statements she’d made, and how I’d defended Monica. I feel gross repeating it.
“Why didn’t you just let them kick her ass to the curb?” Emzee asks, incredulous. “You better hope to God Brooklyn didn’t hear you on that call.”
“Look, I would’ve been thrilled to throw Monica out with the trash, believe me. But DRM’s in a critical financial position right