Page 46 of Enemies

Which is fucking crazy.

Rae’s not here, and there’s no reason she should be. She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing—making me money.

So, why would I give a wardrobe full of designer suits for a glimpse of her across a lobby?

“Mr. King?”

I glance up at the manager’s voice, realizing I was staring off into space. “Hire more people. Whatever you need to ensure this issue is properly addressed.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Would you like me to send you any new reports?”

I consider it. “Only if you can’t manage them yourself. But if I have to make another request for information like this one, they had better be robust fucking accounts. If a patron so much as gets a drink spilled on them?—”

“We’ll take care of it.” He nods as I shift out of the seat and start for the door. “Your car is waiting outside. It’s too bad you’re leaving LA so soon and can’t stay for this evening’s show.”

I cut a look over my shoulder. “I’ll be in Miami tonight.”

“Enjoying your venue?”

I smile tightly.

“Doing the same damn thing we did here,” I mutter under my breath on my way out.

12

RAE

I’d never believed that a house could feel different without its occupants, but since Harrison King left almost a week ago for work, nothing feels the same.

Leni texted me a bunch of links to posts from excited tourists touting their recent visits to Debajo, plus an article listing it as one of their top hidden gems for the summer.

The next show brought in over twelve hundred partiers.

To celebrate, I took the next day to explore the island, Toro more than happy to show me both tourist places and local haunts.

Natalia, having caught me working at odd hours one too many times, decided I needed a hobby. When I told her about the little crocheted dolls I made during my art school undergrad and sold on Etsy for extra cash, she surprised me the next day with yarn and materials.

If I expected to hear from Harrison about the increase in sales, there’s been nothing since the night he came after me like a tuxedo-clad god on the steps of Christian’s villa.

“I’m fucking sorry.”

As if he expected that to undo everything he’d done.

But the sick thing is part of me wanted to accept his apology. Not only for that night but for all of it.

I start typing out a text to him.

Rae: Toro’s started showing me the island by driving me around, but I’m pretty sure it’s so he can tell stories. Ash broke this blue vase shaped like a mermaid while playing soccer inside yesterday. Barney whines every morning when he sees you’re not there.

I pocket the phone without hitting Send.

But later, the thing vibrates in my pocket.

Harrison: Tell Toro to take a goddamned day off. Ash needs to fuck around outside. And you can let my dog know I’m catching a flight back today.

Shit.

I must have accidentally hit Send.

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