Page 16 of Speak of the Devil (New Hope 3)

I start to write back: After last night I no longer trust your judgment.

I delete it. Better to keep things simple.

My assistant comes in with coffee I haven’t asked for. “Line two is ready when you are.”

I refresh my calendar. It’s the new pharmaceutical company, the one we just signed. “Can you reschedule my afternoon? I need to head out early.”

“Sure.” She smiles. It must take a lot of practice not to let it show when someone else’s irresponsibility adds more to your plate.

“Also, can you tell line two I’ll be a few more minutes?”

She nods and sets the coffee in front of me. “Anything else I can do?”

“Have you seen the Jensen report?”

“I can pull it up for you.”

“Thanks.”

I do my best to keep a neutral face as she closes the door. I’d hate this version of myself too.

My eyes shift to the blinking red light on the phone. Line two. They can wait.

I open up my browser and type in the local school district’s name, scanning the names of the schools on their website. Chester Falls. I don’t even know where that is. My cell dings. Another reminder about my one o’clock meeting. Endless meetings. That’s how my day will unfold. I didn’t get into this business—or any business at all, really—to do nothing all day but sit in front of boring people, spouting boring ideas about how to make more money, money that will only bore them in the long run. The newness wears off eventually. Always. Emily liked to say that. She also appreciated the finer things in life, which is why she thinks she moved on and up. But she’ll come to her senses. She’ll remember. I’ll make sure of it.

My inbox chimes. It’s the Jensen report.

Fine. Chester Falls Elementary it is.

I make the call. I offer the usual spiel. I give them the credit card number to the company card. The woman on the other end of the line is shocked.

“Just to make sure I heard right…the total is $8,921.67, and you want to pay all of it?”

“That’s right.”

She’s quiet for nearly a full minute. I count the blinks of red, line two holding. “That’s two hundred and twelve kids that will get to eat lunch today thanks to you, Mister…”

“Nobody.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Emerson. If you need a name for the donation…”

She doesn’t know what to say. They never do.

“Emerson Parker, if you need a last name.”

“Can you hold while I run the card...just to make sure there aren’t any problems?”

“Sure.”

I scan my inbox until she comes back on the line.

“Um…there’s just one thing…the name on the receipt reads Elliot Parker…”

“I won’t be needing a receipt.”

“Is there a contact number we can call if my manager has any issues?”