Page 3 of Finding Out

Avery: Anyway…what’s the big news?

Me: I’m going to New York! I got lead on the secret project.

Avery: GIF of fireworks

Jana: That’s AWESOME.

Avery: Congrats!!!!

Me: Yeah, so no girls’ night out this weekend.

Avery: Chris will be crushed.

Jana: Dead. Skull emoji, skull emoji

Chuckling, I dropped my phone into my bag. Chris might be the best thing that ever happened to my bestie, but fun was not his middle name. I couldn’t complain. He loved our girl enough to put up with Jana and me without a single complaint. The man lived by the mantra that if Avery loved it, then he did too. #boyfriendgoals. Or I guess #husbandgoals would be more appropriate.

As I set my phone down, I smiled at the framed photo of Jana, Avery, and me that I kept on my desk. We’d been the three musketeers for years now, but Avery’s wedding was next month, and Jana had finally given the guy she’d been dating the boyfriend label, so things had changed a lot lately. I couldn’t say I was sad about it. I had mycareer, and one day, I’d be kick-ass Auntie Wren to the slew of kids my friends produced.

I unplugged my laptop and dropped it into my bag, then tucked my Stanley bottle and my glasses inside.

Two minutes later, I was stepping onto the elevator to head out but was stopped when a voice called out.

“Hold it.”

I threw an arm out and caught the door just before it closed completely, and as it bounced back open, a black heel appeared against the silver floor and Erin stepped on.

“Wren.” Smiling, she tucked a strand of long blond hair behind her ear. She was the epitome of professional in her stylish suits and expensive heels. “I hear you have a big weekend.”

Giddiness coursed through me, but I schooled my expression and nodded. “Thanks for giving me the chance.”

“Thank Pat,” she said. She always made it clear that although she loved seeing me succeed and was happy to give me advice along the way, my achievements were my own. “A word of advice, though.”

I tipped my head, eager, like I always was, for any tidbit of information she had for me.

“In our business, it’s important for everyone, but especially women, to remain professional, regardless of the situation or who the client might be.” She pursed her lips.

“Of course.” I let out a breath of relief. I prided myself on my ability to be professional no matter what.

She cocked a brow. “Just keep that in mind this weekend.”

I nodded and gave her a grateful smile, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder who exactly I’d be dealing with.

One of themany things I appreciated about Larry was that he never showed up late. So as I sat alone in first class, I couldn’t help but be concerned. This weekend was the culmination of years of planning. OwningStonehengehad been a dream of mine since before I was thirty. Back when I’d first seen it and didn’t have anywhere near the capital to buy it. Twenty years later, the anxiety of being so close to calling the painting mine had my stress level at an all-time high. And now the man who’d been working with me to broker this deal was MIA.

I’d texted him just before boarding the flight to New York and again after I’d been seated, but he’d yet to respond. Yesterday I had gotten a vague email that mentioned a small change of plans that was accompanied by a comment about how I shouldn’t worry, that everything would go off without a hitch.

Yet here I was, stewing in anxiety.

This was all totally out of character for the man I’d been working with for almost a year.

Locking my jaw, I did something I hated to do. I went over his head.

Me: What’s going on? I’m on the plane, but I’ve yet to see or even hear from Larry.

The bubbles appeared instantly, sending a strange mixture of relief and apprehension through me.

Pat: Larry’s son is in the hospital.

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