Page 30 of The Woman I’ve Become

God, I hate when Phillip calls me that. His need to use nicknames drives me crazy.

He rounds the table and pulls me against his chest no matter that I resist. “I’m worried about you.” He draws back. “After all you’ve been through, I think this business with the article is just too much.”

I hang on to my patience, hard as that proves. “I am perfectly fine.”

“I spoke to the manager at the market,” Rick chimes in.

Of course he did. I cannot believe Acacia spilled her guts so thoroughly. I really would fire her except I need her close until I can confirm and draw out the person who planted her in our lives. She didn’t just appear in ours or Eleanor’s for no reason—there is no doubt about that part. I want to know the entire story, and then I want to . . . do whatever I must.

Phillip settles into a chair at the table, but Rick remains standing. I know him well enough to understand he won’t take a seat until I resume mine. He’s far too much of a gentleman—at least that’s what he wants the world to believe. Phillip, on the other hand, believes that I will follow his lead as I generally do, particularly when there is an audience. Not this time. This time I’m too angry.

“What did you learn?” I might as well know. I just hope the former agent didn’t torment poor Helen with some sort of interrogation. I already did a bang-up job of that. The last thing I need is her turning in her resignation.

“His name is Gilbert, Gil, Neilson. He’s new at Balducci’s. No record. No issues I could find. The manager says he’s a good worker. I spoke to him, and he insists he never went beyond the kitchen when he made the delivery.”

“Are you suggesting Helen lied?” The idea isn’t completely impossible, but it’s very unlikely. Helen came highly recommended. Not to mention why she would wait all these years to suddenly do such a thing. But Rick’s actions and statements are exactly what I expected from him.

Which only confirms how jaded I am when it comes to men like him—the ones who couldn’t get the job done twenty years ago but who know it all now.

When you don’t have money, even the wrong thing can feel right. This will likely be his next conclusion.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Rick assures me. “I’m saying Helen has access to the house whenever she chooses, and money can be a motive.”

There it is.

Somehow it pisses me off that these two want to blame the female in the equation. The wrong one, at that. Helen is a good and kind person. A widow who works hard to support herself. I hesitate before I launch the—no doubt expected—rebuttal. “The only time we’ve been out of the house since we arrived is when we took Olivia on a scavenger hunt right here on the property. We were out for an hour or more, I guess. But that was after I found the necklace.” I shake my head. “Unless you’re suggesting she did these things before we arrived, but that doesn’t really work either since she had basically no advance warning. And we could always ask the guard.”

I haven’t bothered because I am convinced Acacia is the culprit.

Phillip glances toward the living room where the volume of the television is much too high. I should ask Acacia to turn it down.

Then he looks directly at me. “Acacia suggested perhaps Liv found the necklace—”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t even go there,” I warn.

“What about Acacia?” Rick asks, looking from me to Phillip and back. “How well do you really know her?”

Of course it was Acacia. The question is who put her up to it?

“You should ask Phillip that question.” After all, he’s the one who brought her into our lives.

Phillip shakes his head. “Why would she do such a thing? What would she have to gain?”

Oh my God. I cannot take this. What the hell was she thinking when she called Phillip?

“Phillip, we’re fine. As I said, Acacia overreacted. I will figure this out, and everything will be fine. You need to go back to the city and focus on your campaign.”

The astonishment on his face almost makes me laugh. “What?” he demands. “Acacia led me to believe—”

“We’re fine.” I cut him off.

He isn’t the sort of man accustomed to being told what to do. This may technically be my house, but he no doubt considers it his as well. Or perhaps he’s just embarrassed because Rick is hearing it all. Too bad. He shouldn’t have called the man to join him in whatever he thought this was.

“I need to relax,” I explain. “I can’t do that with the two of you here.” I look from one to the other. “I promise I will call if I need either of you.”

Phillip shakes his head. “This is not like you, Jules. I’m worried.”

Well, for fuck’s sake. “You need to be in the city, Phillip. You are mere months from an election you do not want to lose. Your focus needs to be there. I have got this.”