Page 55 of Dark Surrender

His fevered mumbles.

Nope.

I’m not doing this. Not again. Not today.

I have a job to do. I have places to be. Then I’ll return to my sister. After that… who knows what’ll happen.

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I will the thoughts of him away and get up. In the closet, I pick one of two wigs off a mannequin head and carry it into the bathroom, where I do what I always do.

I pull the box of makeup out from under the sink and get to work, contouring my face, applying lashes and brows, until I’m no longer Iris but Ava, sweet voice, sweet disposition, with a wicked sense of fashion.

My hair is curled, my lipstick nude, and I’m wearing a sleek black dress that hugs all my curves, brought to you by shapewear that smooths everything. God forbid women have lumps or bumps. Nope. We can’t have that. My make-your-toes-bleed heels with the painted red sole complete the ensemble. They were a gift from Harold.

Leaving my personal cell on the charger next to the bed, I turn my work phone back on, shoulder an expensive purse from the closet to keep up appearances, and ring my driver to take me to work.

Less than an hour later, I’m strolling into my office with a coffee from the cart out front. I set my purse on my desk in my cubicle, and before I can sit down, the only coworker I can stand races into the tiny space, takes the coffee from me, sets it on my desk, and grabs me by both arms.

“Uh. Hello, Jay. It’s nice to see you, too.” I chuckle awkwardly, staring into her wild, dark eyes.

“They’re dead,” she hisses low, so nobody else can hear.

Leaning in, I whisper, “What are you talking about?” Even though I know what she’s referring to.

Kicking my chair out from under my desk, she forces me to sit. Then Jay paces the three feet in my cubicle, nibbling on her thumbnail. “Mr. Grant, his daughter, his son-in-law, and some of their friends are dead,” she mumbles, on the verge of breaking open her cuticle.

Gripping the arms of my office chair, I sit forward in a rush. “What? How?” I unhinge my jaw just enough and bug my eyes, all for show, of course.

“Ava, could you please meet me in my office?” my boss calls from the end of the hall.

“She’ll be there in five,” Jay hollers over her shoulder.

“How do you know… they’re dead?” I ask, with a hint of solemn surprise. Not too much. Just enough.

“They went missing a few weeks ago, and their boat was found without anyone on board. They sent out a dive team but haven’t recovered the bodies yet.”

I widen my eyes a little more. “They died at sea?”

“That’s what the cops said. It’s all over the news. Did you not get my texts?”

“I was on vacation and had my work phone turned off.”

“Oh. Duh.” Jay shakes out her shoulders and pats the front of her shirt before going back to her infamous nail biting. “I forgot you were visiting family overseas. How’d it go?”

“It was good,” I lie and get up to meet my boss. “I’m gonna go talk to Brian. Do you wanna do lunch? Catch up then?”

“Yes. Sounds great. I’m glad you’re back, Ava.”

“Thanks. It’s good to be back.” I give Jay’s shoulder a friendly squeeze before sliding past her to head to my dreaded boss’s office. Not that he’s bad. He’s a reasonable man. But he’s a man, and we know how I feel about them.

Smoothing down the front of my dress and setting my shoulders, I knock on his door.

“Come in,” he says in the familiar no-nonsense tone I’m used to. I don’t rush. I have nothing to rush for. I did nothing wrong, at least not that he knows of. Even if my heart is hammering a million miles an hour, he won’t see the anxiety on my face, as I’m a professional. I school my expression into a friendly one as if I’m happy to be back at my job after a refreshing visit with my family overseas.

From behind his imposing executive desk, my boss gestures for me to sit in one of the two leather chairs flanking the front. I take the one closest to the door and sit, as any lady would in a skintight dress, with my ankles crossed and tucked to the side, hands gently resting in my lap.

“What I’m about to say in here is strictly confidential,” he notes, sitting up straight in his chair and scooting it under his desk, his expression sympathetic.

With a pleasant smile glued in place, I nod.