Ethan opens his mouth to say something and closes it again as we pull into a parking space. The restaurant is just like I remember it, small but elegant looking. It’s a nice change of pace from the small coffee shops that litter most of the surrounding towns.
The hostess seats us toward the back, and Ethan holds my chair out like a true gentleman. Once we’re settled and order a drink, I start talking again.
“I’ve never brought anyone home with me—not even the girls. Thank you for doing this. It was nice not being alone today, especially when I feel like I drown in loneliness.” I want to tell him really just how fucked up I am. How I use men to feelanything. Used. I haven’t slept with anyone except Ethan since he came into the club.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re who made me want to get my MBA. Did you know that?” He shakes his head, a smile spreading across his face. I shrug. “Of course, you wouldn’t, I’ve never told you. It was after we met for the first time at the club. You gave me hope.”
“How did I do that?”
“You didn’t hurt me that night. You asked instead of just taking. You were my beacon of light in an otherwise dim situation.” His smile fades.Shit. Backpedal, Addison.“You were young and successful.”
“Ah, yes, nepotism at its finest. Thanks, Dad.” He takes a sip of his drink and continues. “Don’t get me wrong, I had to put in the work to get my degree, but the chances of me becoming CEO this young were be slim unless I started my own company.” I bite my lip, trying to decide if he’s mad or not. “You, though, Addy, you figured it out all on your own. You worked your ass off to get to where you are today.”
I feel a blush creep up my neck and settle into my cheeks. It’s not often one receives praise from the CEO of the company. How the hell am I going to tell him I basically stalked him from the moment he left cash on the table after we had sex without sounding like a crazy psycho?
Maybe I need to give it more time before I shareallthe skeletons in my closet.
* * *
I’m soglad Ethan came with me this weekend, I didn’t know how much I needed him there with me, or how much I wanted to show him that side of me. I step into my apartment building, and Shane, the doorman, holds out an envelope for me.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Snyder. This was dropped off for you this weekend.”
I smile warmly at him and tuck it under my arm with a thanks. I look at the writing. In black Sharpie, it has my name scrawled across it, but no other identifying information or a return address.Strange.
When I get into my apartment, I drop my overnight bag off and rip open the envelope, pulling the documents out. The first image I see makes me drop the whole thing to the ground and cover my mouth.
My house, on fire.It’s a black and white photo, but I would recognize the colonial anywhere. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath before I pick everything back up. My heart is beating so hard I feel as if I’ve just run a marathon.
I put the stack on the table and start shuffling through all the contents. There are multiple pictures of my family, out in public. They all look like something a private investigator would have. Clearly, we were unaware these were taken. There are a few of Oliver and my mom, but most of them were of me and my dad.
Next is some financial paperwork. Deposits and withdrawals from one account to another. My dad’s name is at the top, but I’m not familiar with this bank, and there are a lot of big withdrawals made. What the hell was he up to?
I try to think. Dad used to take trips to visit Atlanta for work. One of the subsidiaries was down this way for the company he worked for, and he always paid a visit to Aunt Linda, his sister. He would travel every few months. On occasion, it would be a family trip, and all of us would come. He would go to a few meetings during the day, sometimes the evening, and then we would spend time together.
“Dad, what were you caught up in?” I ask myself.
Next is the report on the fire. I remember seeing the report from the police, and it was an accident—a spark from a faulty outlet, that’s what it said. But this... this report isn’t the one I saw. It’s dated correctly, but this shows the cause of the fire was arson. My hands shake as I read the words on the paper again.
Arson.
I sink into the chair next to me and stare at the five-letter word. Someone deliberately set fire to my house, killed my parents and brother. Why? Were they trying to kill us all? It wasn’t that late at night, so surely, someone who would want to kill all of us would have known I wasn’t home, especially if they had been watching.
Which means this was deliberate. Keeping me alive was the plan all along.
There’s one picture behind the report, a picture of my dad shaking hands with Vince Perelli.
I open a new text to the girls.
Me:I need you girls here, now. Ev, bring Kieran and your dad.
Everleigh:What’s wrong?
Me:Just get here ASAP.
Eden knocks on my door almost immediately, using her spare key when I don’t open it fast enough. She stands in the doorway and stares at me, waiting for me to speak.
