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THIRTY-NINE

NATALIE

As soon as Julien goes back inside, I walk to my car, get in, and lean back against the driver’s seat, closing my eyes in relief.

All the staff was on edge earlier. It’s as if everyone has been trying to prevent something horrible from happening. Something Rosenberg has done before. I can’t wrap my head around it, and no one is telling me anything.

I have chill pills in the glove compartment. I need a dozen to calm my nerves, but I won’t take them—I need to stay clear-headed. Inside my car feels like home, it feels somewhat safe , and as seconds go by, the noisy thoughts in my head fade.

Loud rapping against the driver’s window makes me jump.

“Jesus,” I mutter. It’s Nick. I roll down the window. “Hey, stranger.”

“Sorry about tonight,” he says, though I’m not sure why he is the one apologizing.

I shrug.

“What a clusterfuck, eh?” He blurts out a short laugh.

“What happened tonight? With Mr. Rosenberg and that girl?” I ask.

If Julien doesn’t tell me, maybe Nick will. I’m being careful. It looks like everyone has their own version of the story.

“Hell if I know,” Nick murmurs and rubs the back of his neck. “Rosenberg got drunk. I don’t know how. That’s why we have the rule that he enforced. He has issues. And he can’t afford to make an ass out of himself. Not right now.”

“Why?”

“IxResearch announced its IPO and is going public on Monday. It’s important. Billions of investments are at stake.”

“Why is everyone more concerned about money and not the fact that he could have hurt that blonde he was talking to?”

Nick cocks his head to the side. “Hurt?”

Crap, I shouldn’t have said anything. “I mean, I heard him shouting. I cleaned the library afterward. There was all that broken glass. So much of it. He did that?”

“Yeah. We call them episodes .”

“That’s one hell of a temper.”

Nick looks away. That’s the first time he doesn’t joke around.

“I mean, the girl was drunk,” he says hesitantly.

“Drunk? I saw her an hour before that. She seemed fine.”

“Well, she wasn’t.”

“Does this happen?—”

“Natalie, listen.” Nick shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He stands still for a moment. When he looks at me again, his gaze is almost pleading. “Please, don’t tell anyone about it. Not a word,” he says almost in a whisper. “Not until Monday. Otherwise, we will lose our jobs, and everything will turn into a giant mess.”

Right, here’s another person trying to cover up what happened.

“Please?” He gives me puppy eyes. “I need this job. And I don’t want… Ugh. The boss can be pretty cruel when it comes to…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and looks away.

“What do you mean by cruel?”

“He’s a powerful man, okay? He can ruin someone’s life just like that.” He snaps his fingers and lets out another heavy sigh. “Anyway. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about tonight. Or the party. Or freaking Rosenberg.” He yanks a set of keys out of his pocket and starts swinging them back and forth. It seems to be his relaxation technique. He finally meets my eyes. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, seemingly calmer. “Go for a drink?”

That’s one hell of a topic change.

“You don’t drink,” I remind him.

He chuckles. “You look like you could use one.”

Before I have a chance to say anything else, he leans with his hands on the driver’s door, ducking his head so he can look at me. “Let’s get out of here, forget about this hot mess of a party. Let’s chat or whatever,” he offers softly, his hopeful eyes on me. Then his hand reaches inside the car and tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I don’t know how to respond to this gesture.

“Chat, huh?” I could chat. I could get him to chat for sure. A drink sounds good. I need a bottle to relax. I’m exhausted. I really need to clear my head, and Nick sounds perfect.

The staff door suddenly swings open, and Rosalie appears. She takes several steps toward the parking lot, her hands set on her hips, as if she’s a mom who has just seen her adolescent daughter flirt with an older boy.

“Nick?” she calls out, which is annoying and sounds like “Neeeeeek.”

Nick doesn’t look away from me, as if he doesn’t give a crap.

“Nee-eeeck?” she calls out again.

Nick rolls his eyes and pushes off the car, turning toward her. “Yes, Rosalie!” he says, punctuating every word with annoyance.

“Boss just tried to come downstairs. We need you,” she says.

He turns toward me and just gazes at me for a while. There’s sadness in his eyes. He looks tired. I don’t think he wants to go back in.

“I have to go,” he whispers.

It sounds almost like a plea, like he needs saving. My shift is over, and I wish I could take him with me. But The Splendors’ staff… well, they’re in this too deep.

“See you tomorrow, doll,” Nick says.

He walks past Rosalie and disappears inside the house, while Rosalie stands with her hands still on her hips, her eyes fixed on me. She’s waiting for me to leave.

Whatever.

I pull out of the parking lot, and even before I leave the premises, I dial Detective Dupin.

This shady enterprise, called The Splendors, is going down.