Meanwhile, Emelia—who had almost as much of a tainted past as he did—practically walked on water as far as Peter was concerned. Victor tried to force back the swell of resentment.
“Speaking of Oxford, are you coming home anytime soon? Emelia says Mum mentioned today you hadn’t been back recently.”
Home. The estate had never felt like home. Instead, it was a millstone hanging around his father’s neck and one that would hang around his after Dad died. Which was just what he deserved.
“I’ll check my schedule and let Mum know.” Victor was juggling Garrett’s job and his own, and doing his best to hold onto the clients they still had. Which meant late nights and weekends showing up at functions all over the city and playing whatever cards he had to.
He was exhausted, but not a single client had left since he’d started his campaign. Hopefully, that would give him pole position for a promotion once this all blew over.
There was a sharp knock on his door. It flew open, and Sean barreled into the room. The team assistant never came in without being invited, let alone with his headset askew and his tie flung over his shoulder. “Peter, I have to go. I’ll text you later.”
Victor rose from behind his desk. “What is it? What’s happened.”
“Meredith just sent out an all-company email. She’s merging Wyndham House with one of her American companies. It’s every man for himself.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Lacey, you know getting obsessed isn’t going to help anything, right?” Anna’s mouth puckered at the sight of yet another internet news clip detailing the Wyndham House debacle on Lacey’s laptop screen.
“I’m not obsessed. I’m detail-oriented.” Lacey scrolled down the screen, scanning the article, pretending not to see her two best friends exchanging looks across the kitchen.
“What’s obsessed?” Libby piped up from across the table, face smeared with chocolate frosting.
“Obsessed is what your Auntie Lacey gets when something gets between her and something she wants.” Rachel swiped a cloth off the kitchen counter and handed it to the little girl. “Time to clean up that face, kiddo.”
Libby swiped the cloth across her mouth, spreading the chocolate even further afield. “What are you obsessed with, Auntie Lacey?”
Lacey rolled her shoulders. They seemed to be permanently hunched to her ears ever since Meredith’s announcement. “Just work stuff, kiddo. It’s not important.”
Libby studied her across the table, her green eyes serious. “It’s important if it’s important to you.” The kid was almost four but possessed the insights of an old soul. Not surprising, given what she and Anna had been through.
Lacey had gotten on the plane to Denver without telling Anna or Rachel she was coming. She hadn’t done that before. Not ever. But with her roommate away, her condo had been too quiet, too empty, and the voices in her head telling her that she’d worked her guts out for too many years for nothing had gotten too loud.
She had second-guessed herself the whole four-and-a-half-hour flight. Anna and Rachel both had their own big things going on. And this attempt at reestablishing their tripartite friendship after years of separation was still new.
But when the Uber had turned into Anna’s street, she’d been standing on her front porch like she’d been expecting Lacey all along.
“You’re the best publicist in the business, Lacey. You have nothing to worry about. Any other firm would snap you up in an instant. Or you could freelance. Plenty of people are making great money working for themselves these days.” Rachel lowered herself into the chair beside Lacey and swiped another donut from the plate in the center of the table. The woman had the metabolism of a racehorse.
Lacey pushed her own untouched donut away. “I know they do. But I want to stay. Be part of the next iteration.” She’d never told Rachel or Anna how bad some things had been. How for her first five years at Langham she didn’t even change the photocopier paper without enlisting someone to watch her back. How a group of like-minded women shared a Google doc of all the men to avoid being alone with.
“Time to brush your teeth, sweet pea.” Anna appeared back in the kitchen before Rachel could prod any more. “Say goodnight to Auntie Lacey and Auntie Rachel.”
Libby slid off her chair and pattered around to Rachel. “Night Auntie ’Achel.” Her little arms reached around Rachel’s waist, and her chocolatey cheek pressed frosting into Rachel’s dark blonde hair.
“Night, sweet girl.” Rachel grabbed the cloth off the table and rubbed it on Libby’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
They interacted with ease, and Lacey felt a flicker of regret. She was mostly a stranger to Libby, their relationship stunted by distance and occasional visits. She braced herself for Libby to skip right past her, a goodnight flung over her shoulder.
“I’ll—” She reached out to gather up the plates and mugs scattering the table as if that would shield her from the coming rejection. Anna’s kitchen walls were still Pepto-Bismol pink from when the apocalypse had hit. Maybe they could fix that while she was here. Slapping paint across a few surfaces might help her work out her angst.
“Auntie Lacey.” Libby stopped beside her chair, her green eyes questioning. Her pink pajama bottoms sagged a little and were slightly too long, so small flannel ponies gathered around her feet. “Will you do my bedtime goodnights. Please.”
Lacey looked at her for a second. She didn’t do kids. Kids scared her. They were unpredictable and had a penchant for telling the unfiltered truth. Libby was the only kid she even knew apart from the hooligans who played soccer in the hallway outside her condo, but they didn’t count. “Honey, I would love to, but I think that’s a special job for your mommy.” The last thing she wanted was to overstep the bounds. Anna and Libby probably had some special goodnight routine and everything.
“Ha!” Anna laughed as she gathered the mugs. “You can’t escape that easy. It’s all yours.” She gave her a wink. “Just remember. You’re the boss.”
Libby’s small hand grasped hers, and she led Lacey up the stairs. Large polka dotted letters spelling L I B B Y across one of the doors provided an excellent clue as to which one was her bedroom.
“Okay, kiddo.” Lacey tried to insert a breezy tone into her voice as she pushed open the door to reveal a bedroom the same shade of pink as the kitchen. “Here we go.”
“I haven’t done my teeth yet.”
“Right. Okay.”
Libby gave her a look. “Do you even know how to put a kid to bed?”
“Not really. No.”
“Thank you for being honest.” Lacey had to bite back a smile as Libby’s parroting of something that Anna obviously said regularly was pitch perfect. “I can do it. You wait here.” Libby disappeared through another door, and the sound of toothbrushes rustling and water being turned on followed.
A few seconds later, Libby appeared back in the doorway. “Finished.” That had to be the world’s fastest toothbrushing, but Lacey wasn’t going to argue.
“What comes next?” Might as well let Libby tell her how this was done.