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I grab my laptop from my work satchel along with the business card, settling cross-legged on the mattress and opening the computer up. The search doesn’t take long. The first result, on the first search page, is the man that had confronted me at the party, looking sharp and intelligent in his headshot on the RTL website. I read the small bio for him, but it doesn’t give me enough information. I need more.
This time, I search for some of his articles, and reading them makes my stomach drop. Every piece is like something out of the gossip magazines, except much more in depth and clearly well researched. There are articles about Andries’ mom and dad, his uncle Alex van Dieren, and even his grandmother Margaret, spilling every personal detail that Kenneth could get a hold of out for everyone to read.
It makes me feel ill. There were very few people at the party who knew about Andries and me, but if Kenneth had asked the right people the right questions, he may have found out much more than I was comfortable with. If it got out that Andries had been dating me, it could hurt his reputation, and turn him even more against me. It would be horrible.
Tonight, though, it’s almost three a.m. and there is nothing else I can do at the moment. I shut the computer and set it on my bedside table, tucking myself under the blanket and laying my head on my pillow. My body almost seems to sigh in relief at finally being able to lay down after so long in heels, but my brainis harder to convince. I comfort myself by plotting out my next move, and after some time, I fall into a restless sleep, the faces of all the men that have been manipulating my life in one way or the other infecting my dreams.
5
Amsterdam, January 1, 2022
Roxanne
The next morningis still technically a holiday, so I grab my laptop bag and head down the street to a little cafe—the only one open today actually—to have breakfast while I work through all the problems that cropped up last night. I’m too exhausted to cook for myself, and being in a different location might help me organize my thoughts.
Once I have a scone and a coffee, I settle in at the most secluded table I can find and pull up the list of all the girls who were at the party last night. There were six of them in total, and it isn’t until the fourth call that I hit pay-dirt.
The fourth girl I speak to is Natasha, and where the other girls had no idea what I was talking about, Natasha seems ready to burst as soon as I mention Kenneth’s name.
“Yes!” she exclaims. “Once he realized I worked for you, he started asking a million questions, some that didn’t even make sense.”
She describes what he looks like, and there is no doubt that we’re talking about the same person. I open the note app and have her tell me everything she can remember, especially the questions he asked her, but Natasha doesn’t recall everything as clearly as I would like.
It doesn’t help that she’s also nervous once she connects the dots and realizes that Kenneth is a journalist.
“You don’t think he’ll publish anything with my name in it, do you? My parents would lose their minds if they found out that I’m an escort! They’d have heart attacks and drop dead on the spot.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “I don’t think he’s interested in my employees, Natasha, just me. Try not to worry.”
She makes an unsure noise on the other end of the phone. “I really don’t like this, Roxanne. He was very pushy, and if it wasn’t for the other guy I was talking to interjecting, I think he’d have bothered me the entire night. It feels like his intentions are like, really bad.”
“...Natasha, you didn’t tell him anything about me, did you? Especially about me and the man I was dating until recently?”
It takes her too long to answer, and I know I’m potentially fucked. Finally, she responds, “I don’t think I did, but I was honestly pretty drunk at that point.”
Cursing under my breath, I get off the phone with Natasha as quickly as I can, knowing that I’m backed into a corner. I had hoped to have more information before confronting Kenneth directly, but if he had gotten any information from any of my girls, I needed to get ahead of it before it ended up in an article or something.
I hesitate, but nothing else is coming to my mind, so I have to call him. After dialing the number on the business card, I’m connected directly to Kenneth’s mobile number, and he answers on the third ring.
“This is Kenneth.”
“Hi. So, we met at the party last night. Roxanne. I’m sure you remember me.”
Kenneth laughs darkly. “Yes, of course. I’m surprised to hear from you so soon, Ms. Feng.”
“I wish you didn’t have to hear from me at all, but there is nothing else to be done, it sounds like, since an employee of mine said that you were harassing her last night?”
“Hmm. Harass is a pretty strong word. In my line of work, it’s just called investigation.”
I close my eyes and try to keep my temper in check. I want a cigarette so badly, but I need to get through this first. “Look. I know you have to have some professional integrity. Please stop whatever project you’re working on if it includes anything about me or Andries. I’m not one of these wealthy upper-class individuals that can weather the sort of storm that destroys a person's career. You’d be fucking up my life.”
Kenneth laughs again and takes his sweet time mulling over what I’ve said before answering. “You’re right in that I don’t often go after normal civilians, but you have just such an interesting career and connections I think I can make an exception.”
“You little—”
“There issomethingI can do for you, though,” he interposes before I can finish my sentence. “For a small price I can at least change your name in the article I’m writing. How does that sound?”
“My name and Andries name,” I counter.
