Page 41 of Replacement

I pause in the hallway as I approach William’s home office. I must have left the door halfway open after I stopped in earlier to mention dinner. I wonder if William is even aware of its being opened since the door is always closed. I hear his voice and realize he’s on the phone. Without thinking, I listen to what he’s saying.

“How was she able to access the account?” William is asking, his voice muffled from inside the study. He doesn’t sound happy at all.

After a moment of silence, during which the other person on the call must be speaking, William continues, “That’s unacceptable. So I’m to understand, if we hadn’t been intentionally looking for it, she would have been able to withdraw funds from that account without our being aware of it?”

My eyes widen. Evidently someone is trying to steal from William. An employee, most likely. I’m sure it happens often enough in business settings, but what a difficult and stressful situation to deal with.

“I don’t need excuses,” he says, after another pause. “Address the negligence in security immediately.”

In response to what must be a question from the person he’s talking to, William responds, “No. Give her access to the funds for now so we can find out what she’s planning and if anyone else is involved. Have you found out any more information about my… other situation?”

The response must have been a long one since the silence goes on for a few minutes. Finally William says, “Good. So you haven’t found signs of… malicious intent?”

Whatever the answer is must satisfy him since William says, “Good, thank you. Keep investigating.” Then he hangs up the phone.

I freeze in the hallway, torn between options. William sounds so unhappy about his employee’s betrayal of him that part of me wants to go comfort him and another part of me wants to run away and hide.

I can’t do either, however. I’m not supposed to have heard that private conversation, and dinner is ready. I take a few deep breaths, square my shoulders, and make my way to the partly open office door.

I’m raising a hand to knock when I catch a glimpse of William inside the room. He’s seated at his computer, so he’s not directly facing the door. His head is lowered into his hand, and his shoulders are hunched.

He looked exhausted. Battered. Defeated.

The sight of him makes my chest ache.

I manage to resist the urge to run over and comfort him. Instead, I knock briskly on the door.

He straightens with a jerk and cuts his eyes over to where I’m standing in the doorway. His expression is immediately guarded. “Yes?”

I swallow, irrationally hurt by his tone. “Sorry to bother you. Dinner is ready if you’re hungry.”

William pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. “I’m pretty busy here. I’ll just get something later.”

I open my mouth to argue but then stop myself. I don’t have the right to insist that he joins me. He’s obviously gotten some bad news this evening, and he isn’t in a social mood. I can hardly blame him for wanting to be alone.

No matter how much I might want to do so, William isn’t mine to take care of.

“All right.” I manage a fairly convincing smile. “There will be plenty of leftovers if you want any later.”

I feel heavy and depressed as I return to the kitchen. I pull the chicken and potatoes out of the oven and plate some up for myself. I eat it with a glass of wine at the bar in the kitchen. It’s really good, but I don’t enjoy it as much as I normally would.

I should just leave. I can’t keep lying to William like this. It isn’t fair to him, and it’s too emotionally dangerous for me. Tomorrow I can go out shopping and sneak away from the driver. Catch a bus to somewhere else.

The only money I have access to doesn’t belong to me, and there’s no way I’m going to steal any of William’s money. But I could take a few pieces of my mom’s jewelry to sell. Half of it is mine by rights.

Maybe it will be enough to set up a new life. A new identity. Maybe Montaigne won’t find me this time.

It’s a risk. A real risk. But it’s the right thing to do.

I can’t stop thinking about William alone in his study—hungry and discouraged. So, when I finish eating, I make up another plate of chicken, potatoes, and rolls. I pour a glass of wine and get the napkin and silverware together. Then carry everything to William’s study.

The door is closed all the way, but I summon my courage and knock after rejuggling the plate and glass in my hands. There isn’t a response. After a minute, I knock again. “William?”

“Come in.” His tone isn’t promising.

I open the door anyway. If I’m going to leave tomorrow, it won’t matter if he gets annoyed with me tonight. “I brought you some dinner. It won’t be as good warmed up later.”

He stares for a moment, looking vaguely surprised. But then his face softens slightly. “Thanks.”

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