Page 15 of The Weekend Getaway

Shaking his head, Alex said, “I don’t know.”

“Just talk to him,” Mia suggested. “Maybe you can come tosome kind of agreement. Maybe if he invests in the firm, then you’ll give him what he wants.”

Alex scoffed. “He wants to fucking destroy us.”

Mia moved closer to him. “He wants to know who sent him those notes.”

“You think he gives a shit about those notes?” Alex shook his head. “He wants to ruin us.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Mia said. “Remember, he only said he would ruin us because no one came forward about sending the notes.”

“And if someone had, then … what?” Alex asked. “You think he would have been satisfied with that?”

“Maybe,” Mia said. “You need to go talk to him. Tonight. Don’t wait.”

Alex scowled at her. “And say what?”

“Tell him you know who sent those notes,” Mia said. “Tell him … that it was me.”

CHAPTER 12

PHIL

Phil lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

What happened at the dinner replayed in his mind, over and over.

One of them had lied to him. One of them sent the notes. But, which one? Alex. He was crafty and manipulative. He was an opportunist, always looking for a chance to make a buck. Phil recalled the first time he met Alex, in an economics class. He was tall, good-looking, and had an athletic build, but didn’t play sports. Alex sat at the front and regularly engaged in discourse with the professor. He had dreams of being a hedge fund manager. Or a wealth fund manager. He couldn’t make up his mind. Basically, he wanted a job in finance. Wanted to work on Wall Street. Wanted to make a lot of money and screw a lot of different women. Somehow, he’d ended up becoming a lawyer, chasing ambulances. He had acheesy commercial advertising his services for people involved in serious car accidents.

But Phil didn’t think he sent it because the message on the note wasn’t Alex’s style.

Mia might have sent it. Although, Phil wasn’t sure because, since he’d first met her, when they were in college, he’d never known Mia to do anything against Alex’s wishes. He could imagine Alex telling Mia to send the note, but she wouldn’t think of doing it on her own. She wouldn’t want to risk her position in Alex’s life, as his adoring wife. She’d worked hard to get what she wanted, a ring on her left hand. She’d put up with a lot. Mainly Alex’s cheating on her with dozens of girls.

Mia was a beautiful girl, petite and sexy, with a slutty innocence that made her seem like a baby doll and a sex toy. She was gorgeous and insecure. Alex got off on exploiting her lack of self-confidence, making her feel less than, not good enough. Their relationship was toxic. Alex was controlling and emotionally abusive. Mia was an enabler, and apologist for Alex’s bad behavior, and was a bit unhinged. But she was determined to get her “mrs.” degree, which she had, but only because she’d worn Alex down, and as a scholarship student, she was his best choice. The oil heiresses might sleep with him but they weren’t taking him home to meet big daddy.

Phil’s thoughts shifted to Jason. They’d met in English lit class. Quiet and studious, Jason kept to himself. He couldn’t believe Jason was friends with Alex until he’d learned Jason was at the school on scholarship, as well. But, also, a narcissist like Alex needed a pacifist like Jason. Someone with ethicsand morals to balance out his debauchery. Together, Jason and Alex pulled an enviable number of girls when they went out. Alex due to his sheer force of will. He knew how to make a girl think that she couldn’t say no to him. Jason, on the other hand, presented himself as compassionate and sensitive.

Still, he doubted Jason would send him notes.

Which brought him to Chris.

Alex, Jason, and Chris never seemed like a trio to Phil. It was more like Chris was the third wheel to their duo. The odd man out. Another guy on scholarship Alex had taken under his wing, mainly because he was a villain, and needed a loyal sycophant. Could Chris have sent the notes? Phil wasn’t sure. His first inclination was to think, no, but the most loyal servants sometimes betrayed their masters. Maybe Chris had grown tired of Alex telling him what to do.

Somehow, Phil didn’t think so.

Grace could have done it, Phil supposed. She was sly and crafty. Someone who played chess. Who kept her cards close to the vest, moving in silence. A mystery. An enigma. She was hard to figure out. Phil had always felt unsure around Grace because she was a chameleon. A shapeshifter. The person who became what she needed to be depending on the situation she found herself in. Phil didn’t trust Grace. Never had. But, was she capable of sending him notes about the night of the party? He didn’t know.

Phil rubbed his eyes.

He had to consider Sarah, even though he didn’t want to. She might have sent him the notes to get back at him. Maybefor revenge. Maybe she wanted to fuck with him. But why? Maybe just because she could. Because she wanted to. Because she’d been through so much, because of him.

Sighing, he sat up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the note. Read it again.

Since he’d received the notes, three months ago, he’d been consumed, obsessed with figuring out who could have sent them. He’d chronicled his life, thinking of the milestones and disappointments, the momentous events and trying times. He thought of the people he knew, all the people he’d met at various times during his existence, and he’d known that whoever had sent the notes was somehow connected to the party he’d thrown fifteen years ago.

When the first note arrived, nondescript and anonymous, a thin strip of paper inside an envelope, Phil had assumed it was a prank. Or maybe some weird type of direct mail marketing. Possibly some company wanting to sell him insurance or internet service or an extended warranty on his car.

You should know the truth.

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