Page 28 of The Betrayer
“I was looking for a phone charger.”
It took Angela’s words a moment to sink in, but when they did, I paused halfway through, lifting an aluminum takeout container out of the bag. “A phone charger? It’s in the middle drawer, right under the keyboard. You know that.”
“I forgot.” She shrugged as she shut the drawer she had been rooting in and moved around my desk.
I watched Angela walk toward me as though nothing was wrong, entirely nonchalant as she lifted the takeout container from my hands and peeled back the cardboard top before she even sat down. But her words made no sense. My charger had never been anywhere else, and she’d used it dozens of times over the past months—she never seemed to be able to remember to charge her phone at home. Then again, why would my girlfriend lie about something as simple as a charging cord? What point would that serve? It wasn’t like she was looking for anything else.
Right?
My father’s words from our fight popped into my head:Did your girlfriend put you up to this? Has she been trying to turn you against me?
Why was my father suspicious of Angela? Did he have a reason to be wary that I didn’t know about? Had Angela been snooping around my office?
It was a fleeting thought, one that left a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn’t want my father to be right about anything, much less my choice of girlfriend, so I let the thoughts and suspicions go.
There was no way Angela had been snooping, at least not in a nefarious way. Maybe just to satisfy curiosity.
We ate without talking much, but that wasn’t unusual. Angela and I discovered early on that we didn’t have much in common outside of our politics, choice of music, and business-first demeanor, so dinners were usually quiet affairs. When we finished, I decided I didn’t want to work anymore, packed up, and headed home for the day.
I was back on Sunday until late that night, still with no word from my father. Fuming, I sent him a text just before I left. It said in no uncertain terms that I needed to see him in my office on Monday morning. He might have been my boss on paper, but if he were going to act like a child, I would treat him like one.
Chapter 12
Will
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EVEN IF I HADN’T REPLIED, I had gotten Paul’s text.
Sitting on a sofa on the terrace of my penthouse, a tumbler of whiskey in my hand, watching the sun set over the Hudson, I heard my phone ding. It had taken me a long time to look at it. Somehow, I’d known who it was from, and it was the last thing I wanted to read.
When I finally picked my phone up, it was what I’d imagined:Dump whoever you’re with and make sure you’re in my office at 8 AM.Don’t be late.
I put the phone back down and watched the final ripples of orange and yellow fade into the black ribbon of water that was the river. In the darkness, the city was millions of lights glittering, mirroring the barely visible stars in the sky overhead.
Whatever Paul thought, I hadn’t spent the weekend with anyone. I hadn’t found Steffanie after I’d left the museum, and multiple calls and texts had come up with nothing. I’d stopped, afraid I was veering into stalker territory.
