Page 77 of Forbidden Dark Vows

26

HARRY

I hardly sleepa wink worrying about Ruby.

Celia told me to call back in the morning, that she got Ruby some medication from the pharmacy and was hopeful she’d be on the mend after a good night’s sleep. But now, she isn’t answering my calls.

I shower and dress and go into the office early when the night is still stretching its arms and yawning in the face of the day. The city is sleepy, hushed, but a strange sense of foreboding is sneaking around inside my gut and yelling at me to do something. I’ve never really thought about sixth sense and premonition, but all I do know is that this doesn’t feel right.

I call Ruby’s house again from the office. Still no answer.

I call my dad’s house and the phone rings until the sound is imprinted in my brain. He doesn’t pick up. I speak to the night security guard in the lobby, and he tells me he has no record of my dad entering the building over the last twenty-four hours.

I know it’s a long shot, but I call the airline and ask them to check if my dad caught his flight back to New York. By this point, I’mnot even surprised to hear that he didn’t. So, he either stayed in Chicago, or he caught a flight elsewhere; one thing is for certain: he didn’t come home.

After making myself a coffee, I sit at my desk and study the investment risks and profit forecasts of the joint venture with Russo Corporation, but the figures bounce about in front of my eyes like fleas on a dog. I usually enjoy the peace of the early morning office before the building fills with people and telephone calls and the hum of electrical equipment, but today, I just feel alone. Like I’ve somehow been stranded in a parallel universe where no one else exists and, any moment now, I’ll realize that I’m the last man standing.

I don’t understand how lost I feel until there’s a knock on the door, and Lizzie bounds into the room, her smile fading when she sees me with my head in my hands, the desk strewn with paper. “You look like you could do with a coffee.”

I peer at her, lack of sleep slowly catching up with me. “The first two didn’t touch the sides.”

“That bad, huh?” She shakes her head. “Lucky I came in when I did then.”

She disappears and returns a couple minutes later with a cup of steaming coffee and some pastries.

“When’s the lovely Ruby going to come and take care of you then?” She stands back, arms folded across her chest.

“We’ve set the date for the wedding. It’s six weeks away…”

“But?” She narrows her eyes; Lizzie misses nothing.

“But she isn’t well, and her mom isn’t picking up the phone this morning.”

Saying it out loud seems to ram it home to me. I don’t know what’s wrong with Ruby, I’m relying on her mom—who hates me—to keep me updated, and I’m eight hundred miles away, staring at a bunch of numbers that will mean nothing to me if I don’t have Ruby in my life.

“Not well as in…?” This is Lizzie’s organizational skills breaking down the information and sorting it into bite-sized manageable pieces.

“That’s just it.” I shrug. “I don’t know. Ruby said it was nothing, and when I spoke to her mom last night, she told me not to worry—” Lizzie rolls her eyes at this bit “—and she would probably be feeling better this morning.”

“But you want to hear it for yourself.” It’s a statement rather than a question. She studies me carefully, weighing up her options, then says, “Look, if you’re really worried, why not call the hospital, and before you start panicking, if she has been admitted, you’ll know she’s in the best place. Then you’ll know what to do instead of sitting here wasting your time on an upside-down spreadsheet.”

I follow her gaze and realize that one of the spreadsheets I opened earlier is facing Lizzie. “Damn! You caught me out.”

“Harry Weiss, your face has always been an open book … unlike your father.” She mutters the last bit under her breath.

At the doorway between my office and her desk, Lizzie hesitates. “Call the hospitals now and let me know if I need to book a flight.”

She winks at me and disappears, but before I can pick up the handset, she buzzes back through. “Carlos Russo to see you. I’ll send him through.”

The big man appears shortly after, filling the space the way he always does. His gaze skims the graphs, spreadsheets, and documents on my desk, but he doesn’t sit down.

“My contact flew in from Saudi last night. He has asked me to schedule a meeting for midday, so I’ll ask Lizzie to add it to your diary.”

“Today?” I haven’t even looked at the five-year forecast yet.

“What can I say?” Carlos shrugs and spreads his hands wide. “He’s a busy man, and when he wants to hold a meeting, everyone else jumps.” He pauses, studying me carefully. “This is not the face of a man who is preparing to close on the deal of a lifetime. What’s up, my friend?”

I sigh. “Nothing.”

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