Chapter 1:

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Intervention

Anton's voice: cultured, rich - whispers on the phone to me. It has an undercurrent of a forgotten language’s diphthongs. I picture him, casually watching the news while clicking keys on his keyboard with his long, manicured fingers. "Leah, you know what to do. Tell Jonathan and Joey what is going on.” I hear Giselle's high voice speak, and a lustful gravel fills his tone as he talks to her. I fight the urge to wince, trying to stop my mind from filling in images of what is happening on the other end of the line. Giselle's voice is louder.

 

I foolishly nod even though I'm on the phone. Jonathan’s blue eyes wink at me and I say out loud. "Will do.“ He hangs up. I pull the phone from my ear and stare at the temp and time, not really reading it. I caress the leather of the seat I'm on with my other hand. Jonathan’s white, cold hand reaches out and touches my knee right where it sticks out of my gray, linen skirt. I compensate for the rhythm of the limo and look up at his narrow face and high cheek bones.

 

 He gives me a smirk. His voice is modern and bright. "I'm sure he appreciated you nodding on the phone!"

 

The mountain of a man to his left looks at Jonathan, then at me. He laughs. It is brayish and loud. He rubs his one-inch black hair back and forth, then nudges Jonathan with his left shoulder. With a Jersey accent he brays, "Good one!"

 

Blood fills my face and I know I'm blushing, but I laugh too. "Well, you know he is the boss, I need to be compliant.“ I lower my lashes; casually push the intimately placed hand from my knee and straighten my skirt. Jonathan winks at me with a smile. I shake my head in amusement, turning to stare out the window. We are driving through the city center. The driver cusses at a person on a bike who is immediately to his right when he is about to turn.

 

The mountain leans into me and says. "It's too damn early and I'm thirsty. "

 

I grab a Pellegrino from the bar and take a swig. I make my face blank. "Really?”

 

Jonathan leans into Joey while saying, "You can't have the boss’s private stock! No one else gets a drink!"

 

Joey leans into me. "How would he know?” He backs up and shrugs.

 

Jonathan and I exchange knowing looks. He glares at Joey. "You honestly didn't have anything before we left?”

 

Joey shrugs. "This was unexpected, wasn't it? I got woken up and told to put on a suit then meet you stiffs in the car!"

 

"So, who are we talking to?” Jonathan emphasized the word talking.

 

I pull out my tablet. "His name is Charlie Green. Been with the company six months. “A strand of hair falls in my face.

 

"Skimmer?” Jonathan examines his manicured nails.

 

Involuntarily, I snort. "Yeah, thinks he's a real artist at it too. Started about three months ago with a shell contract company.”

 

Joey sat up. "How much?”