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I'll talk to you soon. I promise. I love you.
Vicki
Benjamin stared at the computer screen. He ground his teeth together until his jaw hurt and the muscle in his cheek jerked. Hot blood pounded in his ears and the room around him clouded in a red haze as a suffocating tension wrapped around his chest. The pencil he braced through his fingers snapped in two.
A gentle touch on his arm drew Benjamin's attention. Jewell looked across the desk at him. "Is everything all right, Mr. Roth?" she asked.
Benjamin looked from her to the four fund managers occupying the other chairs across the desk from him. All eyes were on him. He sat up straighter, mentally steeling himself, and dropped the broken pencil on his desk.
"What's up, B.P?" Alexi Rouan asked.
With a slap, Benjamin folded his laptop to effectively hide the screen. The source of his frustration disappeared. The lingering effect did not dissipate despite the absence of the confession.
"Nothing," he stated and turned to the desk to show his attention was back on the meeting. "I apologize for that. Where were we?"
"We were going over the projected earnings on our international and global funds," Jewell clarified. "Thus far most have nominal long-term gains, only three have any short-term. All but the America's Fund are without dividends."
Benjamin nodded. "In the Bulwark Family of Funds, it appears our segment shows the strongest performance levels for total growth and the lowest tax implications."
Phillip St. Ormand slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, a huge grin on his face. "Once again. Good job, Roth."
Benjamin looked from one man to the other as they discussed the expected success of their particular funds in a struggling American market. This would be the third consecutive year his international funds finished at the top of Bulwark's list. With the rates of return they projected, he suspected they would finish among the best in the nation. For reasons Benjamin couldn't define, the financial victory didn't hold the same satisfaction as it had in the past. While he knew he succeeded in the objectives set out, the thrill of the 'stock' hunt lacked enthusiasm.
Despite the conversation going on between the four men, and the self-created acclamation party, Benjamin's thoughts drifted again to the email from his sister. If she went back to that mausoleum there would be no chance of reconciliation with Dillon.
The sensation of being watched pulled Benjamin from his contemplations. He looked up and met Jewell's stare. Her gaze was intense with one elegant eyebrow raised in an inquisitive arch. Benjamin locked his eyes with hers, neither of them wavering from the hold. Jewell's eyes asked questions as clearly as if her lips spoke them or her hands signed them. With a deep sigh, he slowly shook his head in a subtle motion. She dipped her chin and looked at the other men in the room.
* * *
As soon as the meeting in Benjamin's office wrapped up, Benjamin had a private meeting with Mr. Westmoreland, leaving Jewell to wrap up some research on a Belgian biotechnology firm Benjamin had an interest in for their Global Research and Technology fund. She would have loved to have had just a couple minutes alone with him to ask what could have been in his email to upset him.
She saw the way it hit him, even if the shift was too subtle to be detected by the other fund managers. His entire expression tensed, and she practically felt the emotion rolling off him. She just didn't know what emotion she sensed.
He'd been distant all morning. She'd arrived at the office early, and he was already there, finishing off his second cup of coffee. He told her that Victoria had come home in the early hours of the morning, upset over yet another argument she'd had with Dillon. Whatever news came in the email just added to the tension twisting in him.
"Hey, Jewell. I'm running down to the break room for an iced tea. You want anything?" April said from the doorway.
Jewell looked up and shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm still working on the diet soda I picked up at lunch."
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."
Jewell's email chimed. She waited until April stepped away from the door before popping open the email window. Several new emails waited to be read, most internal memos and reminders, but the one at the top of the list made Jewell still her hand over her mouse.
From: Victoria Roth
Jewell double-clicked on the subject line You have to understand and opened the email. It was long, and Jewell blinked several times to focus on the first line.
Date: November 6 3:32:15pm
To: [email protected] (Jewell Kincaid)
From: [email protected] (Victoria Roth)
Subject: You have to understand…
Jewell…
I know that by now my brother has told you I've left Boston and gone back to Connecticut.
