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She held up a hand. “I think you know it’s not that I’m offended, London.”
My heart lurched, and I found myself tangled, lost for words, as she walked with her heels striking on the tile as she headed back towards the door, long black hair flowing behind her.
My thoughts churned the whole time mingling there, forcing myself to socialize after she was gone—my mind far away, replaying the conversation, imagining if I’d said this differently, if I’d said that differently. There was probably no way to ever know.
All I knew was that, at the end of the night, climbing into my car with a dozen new names and numbers in my phone that I couldn’t even bring myself to remember right now, I was tired. I drove home without even putting the music on, just watching the city go by, and it went like a trance until I was stepping out of the elevator, coming back down the hall towards my apartment. The lights were on, and I could hear the kettle boiling—I’d expected Ruth to be in and out, leaving the key in the drop box like I’d said, but here we were. She had probably fallen asleep to Netflix.
I knocked on the door, and her tired voice came through. “It’s unlocked.”
I paused. She sounded awful. Her voice was strained, and I could recognize the tone in her voice she got when she stressed and paced the room all day.
She’d gotten the job. Dammit. Queen Pearl was going to be quiet without her.
I pushed open the door, slipping through and shutting the door behind me. Earl of Westlake woke up from where he was sprawled out on the couch, and he zipped between my legs yowling pitifully, as if Ruth hadn’t fed him already. In the galley kitchen, Ruth leaned over the counter, folding her arms, giving me a look.
“I fucking well told you so,” she said. I stooped, scratching Earl behind the ears, pushing down the numb, aching feeling I got.
“Ruth, it’s your life,” I said. “If you want that job, go take that job. I’m happy for you.”
She studied me a while longer as I stood up, taking my shoes off. Finally, she said, “Shit, they didn’t even tell you.”
I hung up my bag, turning back to her. “Tell me what? Some good gossip I missed?”
She shook her head. “Christ, woman. Well, congrats on your curse working its magic. Queen Pearl is gone.”
Chapter 17
The AC rattled loudly as it came on, filling the apartment with the slight mechanical odor it always had when it switched on. Behind Ruth, the kettle went off with a long beep, and Earl perked up at the sound, ears up, slinking into the kitchen. The apartment felt… small, all of a sudden.
“Gone?” I said, quietly, my voice shaky. “What’s—what do you mean, it’s gone, like—like someone just came in and stole it?”
“Liquidated. All the assets, handed over to the creditors. Books cleared. María declared bankruptcy.”
“She… didn’t,” I said, holding onto the doorhandle, stabilizing myself. Something tasted metallic. “What the fuck do you mean, bankruptcy? While I was giving a presentation at the conference she sent me to?”
“Like I didn’t tell you it was fucking weird?” She stood up straighter, eyes flaring up. “The double-crossing bitch sold you out, and she did it in broad daylight, because she knew you’d never dare put up a fuss when it’s dear precious—”
“Shut up,” I breathed, voice wobbling. My head hurt like I had a motherfucker of a hangover. The room was pitching to one side, and a sharp pain pressed into the side of my skull like a pinprick. “Shut up. She didn’t sell off Queen Pearl in a fucking hour. Just get the fuck out and let me get some sleep before I—”
Ruth’s expression changed, and she came around the table, eyes softening, pity there, sympathy there—god, no, not that. She put a hand on my arm. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t be yelling at you right now. Christ, woman. Sit down. I’m making you some tea, okay?”
“I don’t want tea.”
“Sit your ass down before you pass out and hit your head.”
Not like I could stay standing if I wanted to. I lurched and fell into the couch, breathing hard, and I strained my eyes, trying to make the blurry shapes come together. Earl jumped up onto the couch with me, sensing the shift in the situation, and he nestled gently into my side. Tears bit my eyes. If fucking Earl could tell the situation was serious, then this was actually happening.
Ruth set down tea for me. Guess it didn’t matter if I wanted the damn tea or not. She sat next to me, her hand on my knee. I tasted bile.
“Why would she send me,” I said, the words falling out of my lips in a breath—not even a question, just a gasp.
“Hell if I know. Because you’d stop her?”
“God dammit, Ruth.” I picked up the tea, sipping at it. The heat burned away the haze in my head. Turned out I did want the tea. How embarrassing.
“We’re going to work this out, okay?”
“I’m not working shit out, Ruth,” I said, my voice streaked with tears, cracking at the edges. “Dammit. We were so damn close. Cameron…”
