Chihuahua.”
“Sorry. You’ll have to leave him home.”
“I don’t travel without him.”
Silence grew, but he broke before her. “I’ll call Hunter with an update if changes can be made. In the meantime you have two hours to pack and get to Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. Hunter’s a good man. He’s really efficient.”
“Yeah. He’s kneeling on my brother’s back now while the cops are cuffing him.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said, trying not to cry.
“Okay,” Chris said, dragging out the word. “He’ll escort you to your home to get your essentials and then bring you out here. See you tomorrow. Again, my sympathies.”
Alex looked at the dead phone in her hand.
Hunter helped Mervyn to his feet and brushed him off.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. Her family couldn’t know that Marc might be dead. They’d really steamroll her then.
She had to get out of there, but if her father saw her face he’d know something was wrong. Then she’d break down and ask her dad to help her find out if Marc was alive or not. Then she’d be a vulnerable needy girl again, instead of a woman in control of her life and able to run a company.
Heading down the hallway, Alex scooped up Little Sweetie’s bag, grabbed her BlackBerry off the table, took Willa by the wrist and pushed her wayward group forward. Hunter followed with her purse on his arm.
“Where are you going?” her father demanded.
“I’ve said all I came to say. Now that Mervyn’s fired and on his way to jail, I guess you’re going to have your hands full. I’ll be back in a few days. Daddy, you have to collect that money and turn it in or no new projects will be green-lighted. Willa, stop crying now.” The woman’s sobbing instantly became tiny hiccups.
“Very good. Daddy, new credit cards will be issued tomorrow. The accountant will have them.”
“You will not leave here like this, Alexandria.”
“Daddy, I have to go to California. Today. Now. I’m leaving. If you have a business expense, submit it to the accountants in grandmother’s office. Do not yell at them. They’re not as nice as me. I’ll call you in a few days. Thanks. Bye, y’all.”
“In three days, this company will be back to the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Alexandria met her father’s gaze evenly. “We’ll see.”
He got in the elevator and rode down, no doubt to save his son.
Dragging Willa behind her, Alex held on to Little Sweetie’s doggie bag and shushed him. He ducked inside the bag and sat down.
“Jerry, I’m going away for a few days, okay? Do you think you can handle the phones for me?”
Her brother nodded and gave her the thumbs-up. The phone rang and he answered, “Wright Enterprises. How can I help you?”
She smiled at him. “Good job. Don’t let them take over, you hear me?”
He winked and went to work. Turning, she took two steps, and saw Hunter again, carrying her purse, clearly unhappy.
“Are you an accountant?” she asked him.
“Among other things. Today I’m here to escort you to—”
“Out of town,” she said, glancing at Jerry.
“That’s correct,” he said, picking up her cue for discretion. She wished he would step all the way back to the elevator so she could breathe, but to ask him would be rude. “Do you have a license?”
“For what?” he asked.
“Do you have one?”
“Yes.”
“May I see it?”
He seemed to be considering her from behind reflective sunglasses. “If you don’t mind, could you think a little faster?”
The only way she could tell she’d annoyed him was by the quirk in his jaw muscle.
Finally he pulled out his wallet and handed her his license.
“Here,” she said, giving him Willa’s arm as she scooted behind the receptionist’s desk and scanned his ID into the computer. Vincent Hunter Smith, six foot two, black eyes, black hair, thirty-three years-old.
He was handsome, but scary.
“Ma’am?” he said. “We need to get a move on now.”
“Alexandria. That’s my name. Or you can call me Mrs. Wright-Foster.”
“We don’t have much time, Alexandria. We need to go now.”
Somehow she hadn’t thought he’d go for Mrs. even though he was older than her by ten years. “I’m coming,” she said.
She returned his ID and he returned Willa, who’d lowered her sadness to a moan.
They boarded the elevator, and Willa stood behind them. “I don’t think I’m going to find another job. I’m going to lose my apartment.”
“Shh,” Alex told her. “Willa, you’ll work for me now as my personal assistant. Now be quiet. We have to think.”
“About what?” Willa asked.
Alex stood next to Hunter who watched the numbers above their heads intently.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “But I think we should be having important thoughts.”
He stuck his finger in his ear and shook rapidly.
They exited and got into his waiting SUV.
Maybe he’d gone swimming yesterday and the water wasn’t all out.
“You should try earplugs when you go swimming.”
His mirrored glasses turned toward her. “Buckle up. Where do you live?” he asked.
“Decatur, near the square.”
“I know where that is.”
“Good. The sooner we find out this was a mistake, the sooner I can go back to being Mrs. Marc Foster.”
He glanced at her. “What if that doesn’t happen?”
“I don’t know who I’ll be without him.”
Chapter 2
LAX
