Page 28 of Bolted

But Sebastian had made it seem like something more dark and sinister was going on within Galant, that there were perhaps ties to mafia, trafficking, or any number of things. It just seemed so far-stretched. I spend my free time between cases looking further into Galant’s public information. It initially presents itself as an umbrella corporation, with the interests of clients driving investment avenues. There’s some small print about investment choices being allocated within Galant’s hierarchy of companies. It’s so… vague.

I like to think I’m doing research to be helpful but I think it’s actually because something is telling me I know more about this company than I think I do. I’ve heard of it before St. Thomas. But where?

Also part of my desire to research and busy myself lies in the fact that Sebastian has taken to blatantly ignoring me. Earlier this week he caught eyes with me as he was getting off the elevator and completely acted as if I didn’t exist. I feel pissed and also hurt, which makes me feel guilty.

Nate and I had met a few times over the last few weeks. He’s spent time telling me how he’s started getting into more of a fitness routine, and has been doing less drinking. He made it sound like he wanted to pursue some counseling, if it would help our marriage. The funny thing is, I don’t care. I don’t care if he’s being healthier, attempting to clean up his act, or pledging to be better to me. I don’t care about any of it because ever since the St. Thomas trip, I realized I have completely fallen out of love with Nate.

I don’t think it was a flip of a switch moment where my feelings changed for him. I think that when I felt the rejection of no longer being Sebastian’s interest, beginning on our trip, it cleared things up for me.

Nate is, and has been for a long time, a safety net. He’s my high school next step and I always felt I had no other choice. But with the experience I’ve had working for Bolt, I’ve been gaining confidence back in myself and my abilities. Including my abilities to not be Nate’s wife.

I’m trying to explain this to my sister who is, for once, home on a work night.

“So do you think you will go after Mr. Hot Bossy Pants then?” she giggles, bringing her giant glass of merlot to her lips.

“I don’t think Sebastian wants anything to do with me honestly,” I say, instantly realizing there’s a hint of sadness in my voice.

“Girl,” Corrine starts, “You bruised his ego. That’s like kicking a boy’s puppy. You might have to do some groveling before you are forgiven.”

“No I think it’s more than that,” I say as I grab for my equally giant glass of wine. “He’s been sullen at work and sometimes I see him parting ways with women in the mornings. And I don’t think he’s the sleepover type usually. It’s like he’s going through some shit too.”

“Welllllll,” she says slowly. “Why don’t you get to the tip of it?” She winks and laughs at her own joke. I had of course told her about the villa sex show. Or the start of the show, the part that I got to see. I had told her about Sebastian’s huge dick just bobbing in front of the blonde, the tip inches from her face. She’d giggled gleefully of course.

“Fuck, Corrine,” I sigh. “This shouldn’t be so messy. I’m young. I’m hot enough..” she nods and I continue. “I should be able to experience life a bit before I settle down to one miserable man for the rest of it.”

“Riley. If you think you need to be with a miserable man or woman, then you’re missing the point of life.”

Maybe she’s right, I think to myself. Maybe I need to take some steps to change things.

It’s Saturday morning and I’m driving to my house. I haven’t been here for more than a few minutes in weeks. I had texted Nate last night asking if I could come over. I think he thought this was going to be my “let’s make up and I’m moving back in” speech. I’m not looking forward to telling him what I want to say. That this marriage has long been over and I’ll be fully moving out this month.

I can tell he’s not home yet. He’d mentioned needing to do a couple things in the morning. I let myself in with the key and walk into the house. It’s surprisingly clean. The floors are clean and the kitchen is free of any dishes or debris. In my head I expected a pigsty. I grab a glass from the cupboard and pour myself water from the fridge. I’m leaning against the counter, thinking once again of the counter in St. Thomas, and glance down to the pile of mail on the counter. Something catches my eye, and I pick up the top envelope.

It’s addressed to Nate Green and the return label is his financial firm, Peterson Lock Investments. It’s been opened and curiosity gets the best of me. Usually he just gets direct deposit for his checks, like I do. Opening the letter, I see a handwritten note accompanying a cashiers check.

“Thank you for your confidentiality,” is all it says. But then below that is a signature line.

Ethan Lockhart, Galant Enterprises.

The check is for $120,000.

“What the fuck,” I whisper out loud, right as Nate unlocks the front door. I’m caught in a moment of panic as I was definitely snooping and definitely wasn’t supposed to see this. I shove the note and the check back in the envelope and throw it all down back onto the pile. As Nate rounds the corner I act as if I’m just tidying up the counter from my water making a mess.

“Hi!” I say too loudly.

“Hi Riley,” he says warmly, smiling and coming closer. “It’s so nice to see you home.”

My thoughts are turning wildly. I remember all the comments that Frederick had made about Lockhart’s business, he hated that guy and essentially said he was dangerous as hell. I instantly decide I won’t confront Nate about the check because I don’t want him to know I’ve been researching a case against his boss’s boss. He clearly is willing in whatever implicit shit is going on within his “firm,” otherwise he wouldn’t be taking in checks for over a hundred thousand dollars.

“Nate, listen,” I start, “I’ve been thinking. About us.”

He furrows his brow. “I’ve been thinking about us too, Riley. I actually wanted to tell you that I want us to get out of here for a bit, maybe go somewhere exclusive and romantic?”

Is he delusional? I haven’t been living with him for months now and he thinks I want to be whisked away?

He must sense my confusion because he continues. “It’s just I’ve been doing really well at the firm and I would love to celebrate by taking you somewhere nice. We can drink champagne and lie naked on the beach. Hell we can even go shopping and get you some better clothes.”

Once a jerk, always a jerk, I think. “Nate listen, that sounds really nice, it does. But I actually wanted to tell you I think I still need more time. To you know, figure things out,” I trail off as I see his face fall.

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