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But as I’m passing my bedroom, my cell starts ringing.
I almost ignore it and continue to the shower, but something makes me turn toward it.
Convinced that it’ll be Kieran's daily check-in that I never answer, I prepare myself to ignore it, but the moment I see my boss’ name staring back at me, I freeze.
It’s not the first time he’s reached out. He sent his condolences when he heard the news about Grams, and he’s checked in regularly since I’ve been gone.
He’s a great guy, and I totally understand why Kieran and his brothers chose him to run the foundation. He’s fantastic at his job, and he’s a really lovely and supportive person.
But seeing his name causes a ball of dread in my stomach.
He told me to take all the time I needed, that Jasmine and my team would cover for me, that my job would be there when I was ready to return, but what if something happened and…
Before I can finish that thought, I swipe the screen and lift my cell to my ear.
“H-hello?” I croak.
I’ve barely left the house for two weeks, let alone used my voice, unless I’m talking to myself.
“Hi, Effie. How are you?”
The question is a formality, and I answer it as quickly as possible in the hope he gets to the point.
I may have been debating whether my life in Chicago was for me or not, but the thought of the decision being made for me, of Henry taking it away from me…that doesn’t sit right.
My hand trembles as I wait for him to spit out the real reason he’s calling me.
“I’m so sorry to call you out of the blue, and I fully understand that you’re on sabbatical, but?—”
Oh my god. Oh my god.
My heart races and my palms begin to sweat.
Please don’t take this decision out of my hands.
“Jasmine has been involved in an accident.” It’s awful, and I hate myself for it, but I sag in relief, dropping to the end of my bed. “She’s going to be okay, but she’s currently in intensive care and will be out of action for some time.”
“Oh my god, that’s awful,” I say, finally finding my voice.
“I know I have no right to ask this, and you are totally within your right not to even respond, but were you planning on coming back anytime soon? Because?—”
“Yes.”
39
KIERAN
The office door crashes back against the wall, causing the person sitting behind the desk to bolt to her feet.
The second she sees me standing in the doorway, she relaxes, although only marginally.
“Kieran, I?—”
I’ve ignored her numerous calls since the news broke yesterday morning.
I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone; I wanted to look our publicist in the eyes when she explained why she’d thrown Effie under the bus.Exactly what I demanded she didn’t do.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” I demand, my voice hard and unwavering.