Page 15

Ava

Goosebumps spread the second the side door opens. A lot of beachside homes don’t run air conditioning constantly, but apparently when you’re rich as fuck and don’t give a damn about money, you crank it.

Sophia waves a hand in a goodbye motion and scurries up the stairs. “Meet you for lunch?” she calls out. “Around noon?”

“Sure.”

Since my swim coverup is upstairs where I left it earlier, I dash straight to my bedroom suite. I crank on the shower and stand to the side until steam fills the space, then drop my sand covered suit and let the hot water pour over me until my skin blazes red.

As the water thaws my frozen limbs, I try to remember the last time I had so much fun outdoors.

Sophia and I laughed so hard at my struggle to maintain balance.

My biceps burned as I pulled the paddle through the salty water.

There were others out on the beach, but for a long stretch, it felt like the ocean was ours.

Zero therapy occurred during our paddleboarding session.

Twenty feet remained between us during most of the outing.

I struggled to keep up with her, and occasionally lost my balance and fell sideways into the chilly surf.

We laughed plenty, but there wasn't much conversation. Still, physical exercise and the sun can do wonders for mental health. I’ll paddleboard every morning if she wants.

Why didn’t he go out with her on the waves this morning? Did she ask him, or did she only ask me? Will he join us at lunch?

The basement bedroom he’s set me up in is almost as luxurious as Sophia’s magnificent suite.

The bedroom has an enormous window with a view out to the ocean, only it’s on the ground floor, so there’s a shadow from the overhang of the main floor’s wrap-around deck.

I rather like it, because it makes my room darker and cozier.

A shadow crosses the grass, and I press a button on a remote to lower the shade.

Armed security personnel continually roam the property.

It’s a constant reminder that Jack perceives danger lurks.

He doesn’t want Sophia transported anywhere.

He wants her on lockdown. And for now, she seems willing to play along.

She still refuses all contacts with friends, and, according to Jack, this has been the case since the abduction.

She’ll get there. He described her as morose and locked in her room.

But she seems to be coming out of that easily.

So easily, it makes me wonder how hard he tried.

Did he try at all, or did he just issue demands, and when she didn’t comply, he went and spent a hundred grand on some cockamamie scheme since there wasn’t a pill or drug doctors could prescribe to solve the issue?

After getting dressed and towel drying my hair, I stare out over the grassy lawn and swimming pool.

From the ground level, you can’t see the sand.

Large pampas grass mounds completely hide the fence barrier between the Sullivan property and the public beach.

But over the tops of the grasses, crests of white pop among the navy blue.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my reverie.

“Ava? You there?” Patrick’s voice calls to me through the phone line.

“Yeah. Hey.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s…going.”

“That bad?”

The light blue sky and gently swaying tall grasses mock the dilemma I face.

“On one hand, it’s like a vacation in paradise. On the other hand, I shouldn’t be here. Patrick, you and I both know that. This isn’t how therapy is done.”

“Hey, you’re the one who always said theological purity is an academic extravagance.”

“Because no one theory applies to any one person. It doesn’t mean I should live here, for god’s sake.”

“Same theory applies. Besides, he wants her to be ready to return to school in the fall. Is that going to happen with once or twice weekly sessions?”

“You can’t rush recovery. And who the hell cares if she misses some school?” Sophia has been making up course work this summer from what she missed last spring. She can do that in the fall. School is really not the point.

“Yeah, well, wrap your head around spending a month with her, because the center needs the money. I’ve spent the day going over the last quarter’s bills.” Patrick used to be our bookkeeper. We hire someone now, but he reviews everything periodically. “Expenses are high.”

“Because of those damn pipes.”

“We’ve got more freeloaders than we forecast.”

“Would you stop calling them freeloaders? You’ve been there. Just like me.” He makes a noise of indifference, but it’s etched in annoyance, and everything clicks. “You’re still pissed about Reid.”

“I worry about you. You know that. I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too.” I make a smooching sound and then pull my legs up to my chest. “So, how bad is it? Do I need to go to the office?”

“If you come in, will the bills disappear? ’Cause if they do, I have to tell ya, that’s some magic act. But no, we’ll be fine. I saw you deposited Jack’s entire check into the business account. You’re not paying yourself at all?”

“Well, I get paid by Nueva Vida. I had Jack make the check out to Nueva Vida.”

“You are dedicated to this place. I’ll give ya that.”

“I believe in it. I think we’re doing a good thing. There aren’t enough resources to help people transition. But Patrick…I do need some of that money for personal use. Can the center pay me a bonus, or does that get really weird with taxes and stuff?”

“Taxes and stuff. Yeah, you will never be our accountant.” He smacks his lips. “How much do you need?”

Shit. It would have been so helpful if Reid reached out before I electronically deposited the check.

“Ten thousand.”

“What the–”

“I got an estimate for redoing my bathroom. If it’s a big deal, I won’t…” Guilt strikes hard and fast, square on my shoulders. I’m a natural born liar, but I hate lying to Patrick.

“Thank god. I don’t know how you shower there.”

“While I’m here, it’s the perfect time to renovate.”

“Hey, no worries. I’ll handle it. I’ll get the money transferred.” I hear him mumbling and can visualize him writing a note on his to-do list to confirm with the accountant how to handle it. “So, tell me, what’s it like there?”

His question reminds me that while he’s been with Mark for ages, he’s never met his family.

“Jack’s home is gorgeous. Sophia hasn’t truly opened up to me yet, so I don’t really know how much she’s suffering, but if you met her, you’d probably think she’s a normal teen.

You wouldn’t suspect anything is wrong, necessarily.

Jack… he’s not… I was going to say he’s not a warm and fuzzy dad, but that’s a judgment I haven’t been around long enough to make. He’s different.”

“Yeah?” Now Patrick sounds completely amused, but that’s just Patrick and his nonsense. “Exactly how is he different?”

“He’s just…” I search for the words. Sure, he’s a man who wears a suit but… “He’s serious. Bossy. I can’t decide if he’s an asshole or if he’s a decent guy with a shield.”

“A shield?”

“Yeah. Remember how Mark treated me initially? Like, impersonal? But you told me he was actually not a hard-ass at all. That there was a softer side? And you had to earn his trust before you saw that side?”

“Jack’s like that?”

“Maybe. He scowls a shit-ton. I haven’t seen the softer side yet.”

Patrick chuckles. “My girl wants to see the softer side. Or maybe that came out wrong…maybe that’s not the side you want to see at all.”

“Patrick, would you!” I jump off the bed and tighten my towel with the phone scrunched between my ear and shoulder. “Hey, I’m coming in tonight for a group lesson. Do you think I’d have the money by tonight?”

“There will be a hold on it if I transfer the money. What did you do? Are you using one of those subcontractors who wants payment up front to cover materials?”

“I save money that way.” Damn, I’m a good liar.

“Yeah. You do. Just take the money out of the safe. There should be enough. I’ll replace it next week. That gives me some flexibility for how I handle it on the ledger.”

We keep cash on hand in the safe. It’s a practice Mark recommended, as he said it’s always a good idea to have a cash reserve for emergencies. Patrick says Mark also keeps gold bars in a safe, just in case everything goes to shit.

In over ten years of business, this will be my first time digging into the cash reserves in the safe.

After we say our goodbyes, the guilt gnaws at my stomach. I barely touched lunch and hid away in my office all afternoon. I struggle to listen in the group session, which isn’t like me. But it’s doubly hard, because Reid isn’t at the session.

It’s not until the end, when we’re shaking hands and saying goodbyes, that he enters the meeting room.

He’s thin. His pants hang below his hipbones.

His shaggy hair looks tangled but clean.

His nails are cut short, and the nail beds look healthy.

One small hole on the shoulder of his smudged Texaco t-shirt hints at the age of his threads.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly to me as he nods to Natalie. She smiles at him and nods goodbye to me before heading out the door. “They kept me late. Had a no-show. Overtime,” he says, eyebrows raised with an expression that says it’s good but it’s not good.

“You caught me.”

“I really appreciate you doing this. I’ll pay you back.”

“I know you will.” I lift the strap of my tote back onto my shoulder, and the keys jangle from my finger. “Let’s go.”

His brow wrinkles. “Wait.”

I pause at the door, studying him. Searching for any signs at all. “Did you think I’d give you the cash? No way, man. Who do you owe? I’m paying him directly.”

“You don’t want to do that.” Reid’s firm. His head shakes back and forth. Steady. Insistent.

“Reid. I do it this way, or you don’t get the cash.”

“This guy is bad news.”

“Aren’t they all?” I step through the doorway, hand on the knob.