I blink, stunned. Is she serious?
“Take all the time you need,” Olivia adds. “I won’t tell anyone that you’re there—especially Brent.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed. I feel guilty that I never fully appreciated her friendship – now I realize just what a great person she is, how giving, generous, and loyal. “But what will you tell everyone? People will notice I’m gone.”
“I’ve got it!” Olivia suddenly laughs. “I’ll say that you’ve gone to a spa to have plastic surgery. They’ll have a field day with that!”
I laugh. “Oh my God, can you imagine Nicole’s face when you tell her? I wish I could be there to see it.”
“Right?” Olivia grins. “She not-so-secretly hates you because she thinks you’re perfect. Let’s make up some hideous secret affliction and see how long it takes the rumors to spread. Maybe you’re getting a belly-button tuck to fix your disgusting outie.”
“While I’m there, I can finally get my third nipple removed, too.”
Olivia and I collapse in laughter. It feels really good to know she’s on my team.
“Ugh, I totally envy you.” Olivia sighs. “I’d love to get away.”
“Why don’t you, even for a short break?”
“Duty calls, you know?” Olivia rolls her eyes. “My calendar’s booked for the next six months, at least. Charity things and family events. Plus there’s Jeffrey…” she trails off. Olivia’s been engaged to a total stuffed-shirt of a guy for a year now, but she doesn’t seem excited to make it down the aisle. “Anyway, I’ll call Pedro on the island and tell him you’re coming. You have a blast and send me a postcard, and don’t worry about a thing.”
I smile and sip my juice. There’s still plenty to worry about, but with the money and an escape plan set, I’m halfway to my fresh start. I can stay on the island long enough to get a real plan sorted, and then Isabelle Ashcroft will be just a memory.
A memory, like my time with Cam. His face clouds my mind, and I feel an ache, remembering what I’m leaving behind.
But he’s out of reach now, and he deserves so much better than me. One day he’ll see, leaving him was the best thing I could ever do for him.
If only I could believe it myself.
FOUR: CAM
My investigator, Jake, calls first thing to arrange a meeting. I should have known it wouldn’t take him long – he’s the best in the business. With a background working for the FBI, Jake usually only takes high-profile murder cases or multi-million dollar corporate espionage gigs; it’s a personal favor that he’d swing by my office at nine AM on a Saturday morning when he’d usually be hung-over and tied up with some gorgeous woman. Usually, literally.
But he can tell, my query about Isabelle won’t wait.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Jake whistles as he saunters into my corner office. The views of Manhattan are spectacular, but I’m more interested in the file under his arm. He’s looking rakish and disheveled like he’s been out partying all night.
Still, I keep control. “Coffee?” I offer. “My secretary can get whatever you need.”
Jake chuckles. “You got her in, too? Poor thing. You better be paying overtime.”
“Rest assured, my staff is more than adequately compensated for their time. As are you,” I remind him. Jake’s minimum retainer is fifty thousand dollars. Worth every cent if he can help me figure out what’s going on with Isabelle.
“Yeah yeah, I get it. All work and no play,” Jake grins at me. “You need to spend a little more time at that club of yours, stop getting wound so tight.”
I bristle at the mention of the Underground, but I’m not surprised either. Jake makes it his business to know everything about everyone – that’s why he’s so good at his job.
“I’ll be more relaxed when I know what you’ve found.” I gesture for him to take a seat on one of the sleek leather couches, but I stay standing, too tense to stay still.
“Your girl, right.” Jake flips open the file and spreads some pages on the marble coffee table. “First of all, she changed her legal name to Isabelle Ashcroft after the adoption, but before that she was called Izzie Johnson. She was born in Tallahassee, addict mom, no dad on the birth certificate, but word is he was another junkie who didn’t stick around. She grew up at an address outside the city, a trailer park, it doesn’t look to be much.”
Jake slides some photos over to me. I glance down, filled with sadness. Isabelle skirted around her past so much, I knew it was bad, but this is bleaker than I ever imagined.