Page 21 of By the Letter

“Okay.” Shira looked around me and nodded to the board, men and women who’d known both Frank and her for many years. When it came down to lining their pockets, they’d been all too willing to oust her. “Thank you, everyone. I guess…I guess I’ll go now.”

Swiveling on her toes, her head raised, she marched to the door. Her fine-boned hand wrapped around the knob, pulling it open, and without a glance back, she walked out.

Murmurs started as soon as the door clicked shut, but I didn’t move. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. Should she have looked so devastated? Her reaction didn't sit right with me. Sure, the moves had been made behind the scenes and without her knowledge, but Shira hadn’t been angry. She’d seemed moments away from falling to her knees and crumbling to pieces.

Francesca’s heavy perfume arrived before she did. She sidled up beside me, her fingers curling around my forearm.

“Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead. Great job, Roman.”

I peered at the woman next to me, uneasy she thought we were on the same team. I might not have agreed with the treatment she’d received from her father’s wife, but I’d never mistake Francesca Goldman for a good person.

“That isn’t necessary,” I bit out.

“Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her. She’s sitting on a pot of my father’s gold. I’m sure she’ll be fine. And she doesn’t have to pretend to work now.”

I looked down at her, a raised brow. “Neither do you, Francesca. You’re free to go clear out your office.”

She huffed. “Just because I sold my shares to you doesn’t mean I don’t want to work here.”

“No, but the fact that you don’t actually do anything means there’s no reason for you to take up space anymore.”

She folded her arms across her chest, her expression sardonic. “Oh, are you feeling a pang of guilt for getting rid of my wicked stepmother the way you did and taking it out on me? Too bad there isn’t a bike big enough for you to backpedal, Roman. You well and truly humiliated little Shira. If you feel bad about that…well, it’s not my problem.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “You know, I think you’re right. I’m done with GoldMed. You can go down with this ship all on your own.”

She yanked open the door as two people ran by and commotion sounded from down the hall. Terry’s urgent voice rose above everyone else, directing someone to grab water and paper towels.

Moving Francesca aside, I strode toward the small crowd. Terry was nowhere in sight, but I heard her, speaking softer now, saying it would be okay, an ambulance was coming, everything was okay.

Finally, the crowd parted, and I stopped dead. Terry was kneeling on the floor with two other women I recognized, but for the life of me could not conjure their names. Between them was Shira, pale as a sheet and unconscious.

“What happened?” I demanded.

No one responded to me. Those who weren’t actively helping Shira were watching. Terry had Shira’s head cradled in her lap, a cloth on her forehead.

“Terry—” I started but clamped my mouth shut when her eyes shot to mine, filled with venom and ire.

“Don’t,” she snapped. “I don’t have time for you.”

Minutes crawled by before EMTs showed up with a stretcher. By then, Shira had roused, but her head was lolling on her neck like it was barely attached. My hands twitched at my sides. I felt more helpless than I had in a long, long time.

The EMTs carefully placed Shira on a stretcher, and Terry stood with her, holding her hand.

“Bright side, baby: you can rest up now. No more stress—none of that,” Terry cooed.

“Bright side,” Shira repeated. “It’s you.”

A strong sense of déjà vu struck me right in the center of my chest. But I didn’t have a chance to examine it—not when the EMTs whisked Shira past me, her eyes fluttering closed.

The crowd slowly dispersed, and I followed Terry to her desk. “What happened?” I barked more harshly than I intended.

She glared at me, her eyes dark and stormy. “That isn’t any of your business, young man.” Plopping her purse on her desk, she squared her shoulders. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m taking the rest of the day off. My friend needs seeing to, and to be quite frank, I’m pissed as hell at you for how you conducted yourself today.”

I nodded. “Of course. I understand. We need to meet tomorrow to discuss what your new role at GoldMed will be.”

Her lip curled into a small snarl. I had known she wouldn’t be pleased, but she’d been with GoldMed for a long time. Once she had some time and saw my vision, she would come around.

The following morning, Terry came to see me first thing. She marched right into my office, a paper clutched in her hand, looking like she was ready to read me my rights.

“Good morning,” I greeted. “I’m aware it’s not my business, but I have to ask how Shira is.”

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