LOGIN(Julian)I wake to a Beverly Hills morning that disappoints me almost immediately.Yesterday was meant to be the day.Yesterday was the day she would call.Yesterday was the day she would send a stiff little message. Something like, Julian, we need to discuss what happened.I would clear my afternoon and listen to her spiral and then do the gracious thing and assure her I stopped before things could go too far.Not because I don’t want her, she knows I do.Because I want her to be fully present when I make love to her for the first time.I’ve been picturing the glorious way she would blush at my words.She did not call.She did not text.What she did, apparently, was go to her office, get sued personally by Jeffrey Bauer's lawyers, and proceed to spend the entire day pretending I don’t exist.Damn Jeffrey Bauer for his piss-poor timing.I spent yesterday evening drinking a very good Scotch in this suite and arriving, slowly, at a decision.Patience has been my whole campaign.Patience
(Natasha)I make it to the office at seven twenty-three.Priya is not in yet.The lights on our floor come up automatically as I walk through, which is a small mercy, because if anyone had said good morning to me I might have started crying in reception.I sit at my desk.I don’t touch the laptop.I don’t look at my phone.I sit with my hands flat on the wood and I breathe through my nose and I count to thirty.The seven-thirty meeting is internal.Mason and the senior associates, walking through the latest rush motion from Bauer's people.I can do it.I’ve done more on less sleep, on worse mornings, in worse states.Somehow I can’t fully convince myself of that.I feel like I broke something. Some important part of who I am.There’s a black square in the middle of last night where a memory should be.Around the edges of the square there are pieces.A moment when he said get a room here and I agreed, because at the time it had sounded like the smartest thing anyone had said to me all
(Natasha)I wake up to the realization that my head is splitting open.That’s the first thing.The second thing is there’s too much light.The third thing is that I don’t know where I am.I close my eyes and try to assemble the night, and my brain returns nothing at all.Drinking whiskey in a hotel bar is as far as I get.Nothing after that.I open my eyes again. The ceiling is wrong.I roll onto my side very, very slowly, because moving any faster will end with me being sick on the carpet.Julian is asleep next to me.He’s lying bare-chested on top of the covers in only his boxers.He looks utterly serene, like a man who’s had an excellent night, and he’s not even snoring, which somehow makes it worse.What the hell have I done?I lie completely still and try to breathe.My eyes dart around the room.My blouse is on the floor by the bed, in a heap.One of my shoes is in the far corner. The other is by the bathroom door.There’s a wine glass on the dresser with my lipstick on the rim.
(Julian)The text comes through at nine fifteen.I’m at the bar at the Beverly Wilshire. Drinking alone. Don't tell anyone.I stare at my phone for a full ten seconds.Three weeks of charm offensive.Orchids.A handwritten card after the gala.Several coffees dropped at the Stein M&A reception desk with a note that said only thinking of you.A text every other day that asked nothing, demanded nothing, and made it clear that if she ever wanted company that did not have an agenda, the offer stood.She has finally taken me up on it.Persistence always pays off.I type back, Be there in twenty.I make it in fifteen.She’s in a back booth in a red silk blouse that drapes her frame in a way that would make angels weep.Her hair is down, which is not how she wears it to the office.She honestly is the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I’ve ever met.There’s a half-empty whisky in front of her and a full one beside it, which tells me everything about the pace.I slide in across from her."N
(Chase)It's after midnight when I close the file.I’ve spent days on this.Rebuilding Bauer's offshore structure from the bottom up.The work is slow and unglamorous, but it’s helping to keep me from slowly losing my mind.Giving my hands something to do.If they were idle, I’d be putting a hole through my office wall.I know Sonia’s the one who tampered with Natasha’s medical file.Perhaps not directly, she hardly has the know-how to do something like that, but she’s behind it.I watched her face when I said the word file. That was all I needed.I have no idea what Dr. Bailey was doing there.He wasn’t around yet when Natasha was hospitalized, so he couldn’t have been involved.Dr. Evans is my main suspect as Sonia’s co-conspirator at this point.I push back from the desk and pour another coffee.There’s a right way to do this and a wrong way.The way not to do it is to put my hands around Sonia's throat.Which is deeply unfortunate since that’s the way I most want to do it.But tha
(Clarice)I shouldn’t be here.I tell myself this in the parking structure.I tell myself this in the lift.I tell myself this as I cross the polished floor of the St. Jude's pediatric wing in a wide-brimmed hat and dark glasses that make me look exactly like a woman who’s somewhere she shouldn’t be.I called the hospital and pretended to be Natasha Warren, confirming Lily’s next appointment.It turned out to be today.Sonia is upstairs in her bedroom packing for Paris and refuses to speak to me.I tell myself I’m only here for a quick look.The pediatric atrium has a glass wall that overlooks the courtyard fountain.There’s a row of upholstered chairs facing it for parents who need to pretend, briefly, to be somewhere else.I take one of the chairs at the far end and angle myself toward the corridor.Natasha comes out of the lift at three forty.She comes in with the baby in her arms and a leather bag over one shoulder.She looks exhausted, but she’s pushing through it in that way wo
(Chase)Lily will not sleep.She was fine during the show, fine through the chaos of the evening, perfectly content while Mason was here and the room was full of noise and movement.The moment things quieted down she decided she had opinions about it.I walk her through the townhouse in slow loops,
(Nathanial)Holding my phone to my ear, I stare out the large window of my office."Mother, you need to come to Los Angeles," I tell her firmly."Sonia is pregnant. She is very upset and needs you right now."A long, heavy silence fills the line."You know I can’t go to Los Angeles, Nathanial," my
(Natasha)Adrenaline from the Blackwood Gala still keeps me buzzing the next morning.Accepting Chase’s bet was not an impulsive choice. It was a call to war, and wars need an army.Because I’m not allowed to get anywhere near Mason, he immediately sends someone to help.Early in the morning, a lou
(Natasha)All the color drains from Sonia’s face, leaving her looking terrified.A choked sound escapes her throat.She spins around on her high heels and runs away from our dark corner as fast as she can.Nathanial turns his cold stare toward Chase. The unspoken order in his look is very clear.Fi







