Out of nowhere, Wes appeared.
He flew out from the side, or so it seemed, and dive-tackled the mugger. It happened so fast Ivy didn’t realize what had happened until the guy was on the pavement, facedown, Wes on top of him.
Wes said he had seen her walk out of the party alone and wanted to make sure she got home okay. Heath has never believed that.
“It’s creepy he followed you,” he told her. Many times.
Not to Ivy. Nor did she ever think of Wes as her hero, because she doesn’t need to be saved. What she needs is someone who has her back.
When it matters, Wes does.
* * *
—
“Yes,” she tells Heath, finally answering his question after pausing to take a sip of her beer. “This week was worth it.”
“You’re addicted to him,” he says. “And just so we’re clear, all the crazy things Wes does aren’t grand gestures. Over in the mentally healthy world, we call that love bombing.”
“Ghosting is love bombing?”
“Not that,” he says. “But a lot of the other things.”
Ivy sighs.
Heath reaches over and places his hand over hers. It feels cold from the icy bottle. “Ivy, I love you, I support you, I will always be here for you,” he says, “but I think you deserve so much better.”
“Thank you.”
“If I didn’t say it, I wouldn’t be doing my job as your best friend.”
“I know,” she says. “And I appreciate it.”
End of lecture. Now they can move on.
“What are you going to do?” Heath asks.
“How do you know I’m going to do anything?”
“Because you don’t let anything go.”
He’s right, but she doesn’t have to admit it out loud.
Heath leans forward, elbows on the table. “Time to get serious.”
Ivy smiles. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s figure out what you’re going to do next.”
35
At exactly ten o’clock in the morning, Wes and the sales team gather around the big screen in the boardroom. Ian is here, as well, and his presence keeps everyone from saying what they’re really thinking. CEOs have that effect.
Abigail is also in the room, poker face on. No emotion. No reaction to the press conference on TV. Wes glances over at her too much, something he has done ever since their night together. He shouldn’t, but he does it anyway. Maybe because thinking about her keeps him from thinking about Ivy.
On the screen, the DA stands in front of a podium. He isn’t a particularly attractive man, but he must be doing something right, because he has been the DA for as long as Wes can remember.
“For the past two weeks, we’ve worked with the Fair Valley Police Department to investigate the death of Tanner Duncan,” he says. “After reviewing security footage, speaking to dozens of people, and interviewing the woman who was with him at the time, we have decided not to press charges. This was a clear-cut case of self-defense.”
Not a surprise. Everyone in the office assumed this was coming when Bianca hadn’t been arrested after the first day or so. Still, Wes looks over at Ian. Like Abigail, his face shows nothing.
On the screen, reporters are shouting questions, all of which the DA ignores. He holds up his hand and says, “That’s all I have. Thank you.”
Bianca’s name is never mentioned, nor was it ever. Not publicly, because she was an assault victim. Alleged assault victim. The media has been reminding everyone of this on a daily basis.
Wes believes her. He wasn’t sure at first, but now he is. A lot of stuff about Tanner has come out since he died, a lot of stories he hadn’t heard are now circulating at the office and online.
Abigail turns off the screen at the same time Ian clears his throat.
“We all know this has been a difficult time for everyone, and for the company,” Ian says. “Now that the case has been closed, so to speak, the media interest will end. I want to thank everyone for not speaking to reporters and letting our PR department handle it.” He looks like he’s about to say more, but he stops himself, nods, and walks out of the room. Abigail isn’t far behind.
Wes avoids her and heads straight to his office. It’s still uncomfortable, at least for him, though she isn’t treating him any differently than before. Part of him wants to blame his sister for this, since she’s the one who told him the best way to get over an ex is to sleep with someone else.
Stella probably didn’t mean someone from work. And she certainly didn’t mean the CEO’s assistant.
Still, she’s his sister. And if he can’t blame her, then he has to blame himself. Which he does. Wes knows he didn’t have to sleep with Abigail; he didn’t have to sleep with anyone. But if anyone ever asks, the idea came from Stella.
When he gets back to his desk, the first thing he sees is a missed call from Karen.
It couldn’t be to talk about Tanner. Not after that press conference. He takes a moment to sit down, tries to get comfortable, and calls her back. She picks up on the second ring.
“Mr. Harmon, thank you for returning my call,” she says.
“Wes. Please.”
“All right. I won’t take up too much of your time, Wes. I just have a few follow-up questions about Ivy’s car. The one that was stolen. Why did she think you borrowed it?”
The question comes so quick it makes his heart jump. Or maybe it’s the topic. “We shared the car,” he says. “Technically, it was in her name, but we lived together. We both used it.”
“I see.”
“I’m not sure why you’re asking about a car that was stolen years ago,” he says.
“You do know the car was found a couple of years later?”
“I do. The police called her about it.”
“So you saw the pictures?” she says.
“I did.”
“I think that’s all the questions I have,” Karen says. “Thank you for your time, Wes.”
She hangs up.
Wes stares at his phone, a chill running up the back of his neck. The only thing Karen wanted to ask about was the car. That can’t be a coincidence.
* * *
—
Karen glances behind her. The parking lot behind the station is empty, but she checks anyway. While she tries her best not to work on side projects when she’s supposed to be working on her assigned cases, sometimes it has to be done.
She would’ve preferred to ask Wes these questions in person—to see the look on his face when she asked about the car. Helpful to her, not so helpful to her job. If Louis or his partner happened to be at Siphon, perhaps to give them a heads-up about the press conference, her presence would’ve set off too many alarm bells. And probably a call to her sergeant.
But Wes wouldn’t have made that call. No chance he’s going to tell anyone that a detective is calling him about his past. Or about his relationship.
Wes hadn’t slipped once, hadn’t offered any additional information. She had recorded the call anyway, just in case. It wasn’t legal—not without his consent—but this isn’t for court. It’s for her own investigation.
Earlier, she finally had a chance to look at the Tanner Duncan file. Now that the case is closed, Louis put it in the corner of his desk, on top of a pile of cases waiting to go into storage. Easy enough to sneak a peek.