Page 59 of Billionaire Corruption

“Good idea,” he said. “Rest now and take it easy. Don’t come to work tomorrow.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll go back.”

“I’m thinking of you,” he said.

“Okay,” I said and put down the phone.

I felt incredibly sad and alone.

Paul had turned out to be unable to protect me.

I knew it wasn’t his fault, but, somehow, I had thought that simply by being with him, I would be safe, that nothing would happen to me. But I had become more tangled up with this investigation and the whole sordid mess that was Ladden. He was more involved with all that than he had led on, I knew this. The closer I got to Paul, the more dangerous things became for me.

The next morning, feeling a bit stronger, I had breakfast with Toby before school.

He asked me how I felt, how I’d slept.

He was anxious and I could see he was worried about me.

“What are you going to do?” he asked me.

“I’ll get another job,” I said with a confidence I did not really feel.

“And Paul?”

“What do you think of him?” I asked him.

“I like him, but…” he didn’t finish his sentence and I knew why. Toby wasn’t sure what to make of him; this man with his expensive clothes who could afford to fly his sister away for a weekend and book out an entire guesthouse for just the two of them. A man who had also gotten his sister involved in something that was so risky that she was in physical danger.

I felt for him.

“I want you to be happy,” he said, suddenly leaning over and clumsily kissing my cheek.

I smiled and watched him leave for school.

People said that, I thought, but what did it even mean? What was happiness? This elusive emotion that we tried to hold on to, that we tried to get or buy. Was it a person, a house, a certain lifestyle? Or was it a fleeting emotion, like walking hand-in-hand with someone down a rocky shore, looking at the sun setting over the choppy waves?

Later in the morning, I went to the financial district, looking for Jeremy’s food truck. I wanted to see a friendly face and it had been a while since I’d dropped by for one of his meals. Things had been so busy with work and Paul, I’d neglected to keep up with my friends.

When I found the food truck, I was disappointed to see one of the other vendors selling food.

“Where’s Jeremy?” I asked a girl with red hair and piercings all over her face.

“He got a gig in town,” she said, shrugging. “Don’t know when he’ll be back.”

I sent him a text saying I was sorry I hadn’t been in touch, that I would love to go for a drink sometime. I ambled back towards the subway, trying not to think too much about what I was going to do about my life.

I noticed a familiar face coming towards me.

As the woman was about to walk past me, I said, “Hey.”

Her head snapped up, as if she hadn’t noticed me. Her shock of white hair flipped back, and she looked at me.

“Oh, hi, you’re…”

“Grace,” I helped her out.

“Sorry, I’m sorry about that. I’m in such a state, I tell you, I’d forget my own name in a second,” Alana said, laughing nervously. We stepped out of the throng of people heading to the subway.

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