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Was he helping Diana? Was he part of her blackmail scheme?
Maybe... maybe they were blackmailing someone together and he didn’t want to share the money. Had one of the people Diana was tracking paid her and—maybe—Gino killed her for the money?
Except, who would have a hundred thousand in cash lying around on an island? It would likely be an electronic transfer or something of value. Like jewelry.
77... was that Diana’s shorthand for Gino?
I was on the verge of something. Maybe the numbers did refer to people. If I knew one—if I assumed 77 was Gino—maybe I could figure out the others.
I skimmed through my notes. There were nine different numbers that didn’t have a dollar sign attached. Had Diana blackmailed—or planned to blackmail—ninepeople?
I listed them on a separate sheet of paper. Then my phone vibrated.
Quarter to midnight. Time to meet Jason.
I hid the book, put my notepad in my laptop case, and left.
Chapter Sixteen
“There will be a few times in your life when all your instincts will tell you to do something, something that defies logic, upsets your plans, and may seem crazy to others. When that happens, you do it. Listen to your instincts and ignore everything else. Ignore logic, ignore the odds, ignore the complications, and just go for it.”
—Judith McNaught,Remember When
I don’t know why I was so nervous.
I was an (almost) thirty-year-old professional woman who is smart, pretty, and a good conversationalist. I was mature enough to make my own decisions, flirt with handsome men, and even have a one-night-stand.
I had never had a one-night stand in my life.
But my gut told me to let go with Jason, because he was exactly what I needed. This was my first and last fling before being chained to a desk for the rest of my life.
Then I reminded myself that I hadn’t actually accepted the promotion. I didn’thaveto accept it. I could continue doing what I was doing for the company, handling my current accounts, not taking on bigger accounts or more responsibility.
Who was I fooling, though? I’d seen the masthead. OfcourseI would accept it. I’d earnedthe promotion. It would be notonly out of character to turn it down, but short-sighted. When would I get another opportunity like this? Never. I would be a full partner with all the prestige and recognition and stature that went with my name not only on the door, but on the masthead. At the age ofthirty.
I hadearnedit, I reminded myself again. I’d worked my ass off for five years not just because I liked my job—which I did—but because I wanted to work myself up intothis exact position. Cohn and McMann were in their fifties. They would retire in the next ten years, and I would be running the entire company, bringing in junior partners the way Stuart Cohn had brought me in five years ago.
Would I be married? Would I have a baby? Would I be forced to live vicariously through Amanda and Jane because I had no time to date, fall in love, and have a life outside work?
All these thoughts ran through my head once more as I sat on the edge of the lagoon, letting the water roll up and tickle my feet. I considered that I might be melancholy because in thirteen minutes, I would be thirty.
I didn’t feel thirty. Sometimes I felt like I was twenty-one and trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, and sometimes I felt forty, set in my ways and wanting to tell everyone to get off my lawn.
I had a dream, but I rarely thought about it and never discussed it with anyone. It was a foolish idea, completely irresponsible, impracticable, impossible. Not a dream for a fiscally frugal financial planner whom wealthy people trusted with their money.
The moon slowly came into view through the opening above the lagoon. The gentle waves glittered. For a split second, I felt wholly at peace. Very odd, since I was in the middle of a major life decision and had found a dead body last night.
This place was more magical than any place I’d ever been. The open cavern, soothing water, and especially the breathtaking beauty of the lagoon under moonlight.
This was exactly where I was supposed to be at this moment.Here, I felt like I could actually acknowledge my dream—a dream that could never become reality. I almost wanted to toss a quarter in the water and make a wish. But I didn’t know what my wish would be.
Instead, I picked up a shell—an unusually beautiful pink shell, about three inches long, wide and open on one end, spiraling to a point on the other. It was unique and imperfect. Staring at the shell, I pictured what I wanted—my wild dream that I would never, could never, pursue. Reluctantly, I tossed the shell, and the dream, into the water.
I let them go. I knew who I was and what I should do with my life.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I screamed and jumped up, tripped, then fell on my ass.