In the privacy of his rental car, Nicholas wants me to go over everything that happened that night with Dallas yet again.
“Do not neglect to mention a single detail,” he insists.
I take a deep breath and start at the beginning. Once I describe how I felt the first time I saw Dallas, Nicholas’ face contorts for a moment and then relaxes. He clenches his jaw.
“You found him attractive?” he asks, stroking his Adam’s apple. I nod.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He was hot. WE had this…chemistry.”
He smooths down the cuffs of his shirt and then looks at me again.
“Why is this important?” I ask. “I mean, why do you even care? Tell me what happened to Rosemary.”
“Rosemary’s real name was Caitlyn Montgomery Sudik,” he says without missing a beat. “She grew up in Florida and trained at the Bloom Academy.”
Is that a school? I’m not sure why this is relevant. I give him a blank stare.
“The Bloom Academy is a secret and very elite private school that teaches men and women about the art of seduction,” Nicholas explains. “She was recruited and taught well and has since traveled the world and made a lot of money for the organization.”
“What organization?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. He is telling me a lot more than he did before so I don’t push for now.
“So, what happened to her?” I ask.
“She never came back after meeting with Dallas. She texted her boyfriend that she was meeting up with a friend of hers but they never met and her friend didn’t know a thing about this supposed meeting. Her body was found yesterday, deep in the rainforest by a couple of hikers. The police are clueless but my sources suspect that it’s Dallas’s doing.”
I put my hand over my mouth.
If the police don’t know who did it, what sources does Nicholas have that tell him that it was Dallas?
“You were the last person to see her alive,” Nicholas says as if he can read my mind. “Well, not the last, but you were the one who left them in that room together. Alive and well.”
“Are you saying that this is my fault?” I ask.
“No, not at all. It’s mine.”
“How is it your fault?”
“I should have never told you about that laptop or that job,” he says. “I’m just glad that it wasn’t you.”
I hope that whatever was on that laptop was worth it, I want to say. But I immediately catch myself.
What could that laptop possibly contain that would be worth a human life? A young, healthy life of an innocent at that?
“Do you really think Dallas did it?” I whisper.
Nicholas gives me one conclusive nod.
I shake my head, no, no, no.
“What do you think happened?” I ask.
“He might have seen that the laptop was switched and thought that she was in on it. Or he might have found it suspicious that you just suddenly left and again took it out on her.”
I look down and rub the outside of my knuckles on my left hand.
“I’m not saying this was your fault, not at all.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I am involved in some serious shit, Olive. With some serious people. And the less you know about it the better.”
My stomach begins to roil.
Doesn’t he realize that this whole thing happened because I didn’t know enough?
He should’ve told me that I was going there.
He should’ve trusted me enough to let me handle it.
If we had followed his original plan, Rosemary would still be alive.
“Dallas Stone is a savage. He has killed many people. I only know of a few, but that’s enough. That’s why I didn’t want you doing that. Not for me. Not for any offer.”
Owen thinks you killed a few people as well, and yet here we are, I want to say. But I bite my tongue.
Growing weary of second-guessing and going over every regret from that night, I pivot our conversation.
“How long have you been tracking him?” I ask.
“For about a year. That’s why I set up my headquarters in Maui. I knew that he was going to be there to go to one of those parties, just not when.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“For what?” he says. “That your friend and my friend are frisky and decided to go to a sex club together? You didn’t know what they did together. And neither did I.”
I nod. We sit in silence for a while staring into the distance.
My thoughts return to Rosemary.
She was so beautiful and perfect and now she’s dead.
It’s all because of me.
Dallas might have done it but were it not for me, she would still be drawing breath.
I glance over at Nicholas. His mind is likewise occupied.
Rain starts to fall and we both watch the droplets smash into the windshield.
How did everything get so complicated? I wonder.
34
When we kiss…
Nicholas booked a few nights at the Ritz, but I don’t feel like staying at a five-star hotel. Instead, I invite him over to my place.
We have the lease for six more months and I have no idea if we should give it up. Frankly, the world has been spinning so fast recently that it’s hard to find solid footing.
After giving Nicholas a brief tour around the living room, the kitchen, and my bedroom, I glance down at my phone and realize that I hadn’t texted Sydney back since this morning. She even left me a few voice mail messages, and she never leaves voice mails.
Scanning the transcriptions instead of listening to her frantic voice, I know that I can’t not write her back. I need to put her mind at ease even though all I want to do is to curl up in my sheets and not come out of bed for days.
“Make yourself at home,” I say, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
I quickly type up a long paragraph summarizing everything that happened and press send. I add another text for good measure: can’t text anymore tonight. Will message you tomorrow for sure.
Instead of long paragraphs, Sydney has always been a rapid fire type of replier. Every thought gets its individual line.
OMG, seriously?
I was thinking about you all day.
Btw, James is amazing!!!
Okay, let’s talk tomorrow.
How’s our apt?
I read them quickly but want to not write back but I can’t stop myself.
Everything’s great here. Still have to figure out what to do about the lease. R u moving to HI?
Maybe?? Yes! No! I don’t know.
Shrug emoji.
Nicholas parks himself on the couch and buries his head in his phone. After I put mine down, I see him swiping through emails and checking different apps for who knows what.
“So, what now?” I ask.
He mumbles something without looking up.
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask again.
He finishes typing something and looks up. “What are you referring to?”
“I mean, we came here for the hearing. I really appreciate you letting me do that.”
I cringe at my use of the word let. He didn’t let me. I don’t need his permission.