Deception (Infidelity #3)

“Chelsea is working for Montague Corporation?”

“Yes, in their HR department.”

I didn’t give a shit what department she was in. I was more concerned with why in God’s name my best friend would be working for Montague. She had to know it was my family’s company. Or did she? I’d purposely avoided all things Montague while at Stanford. Chelsea knew my name was Collins and my parents’ last name was Fitzgerald. I couldn’t recall if I’d ever mentioned Montague. But without a doubt, she knew I was from Savannah.

“Mrs. Moore,” I asked, “why does Chelsea think I’m angry?”

“Well, like I said, you two should talk. Are you still seeing that incredibly handsome gentleman?”

Subject change!

“I am. Please don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. That’s the point. That’s what I told her. Really, you two should talk.”

I took a deep breath and held the phone between my shoulder and ear as I unzipped my backpack and searched for a pen and a piece of paper. “Would you please give me her new number?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t you know if you can give me her number? She’s my best friend and something isn’t right. I can feel it.” I was getting more worked up than I’d been before I called.

“You know, I believe in those things.”

“What?”

“It’s like a sixth sense. I think they’re real.”

The woman was batshit crazy.

“Her number?” I asked again.

“Alex, dear, I’ll tell her we spoke. I’ll tell her to give you a call. You really don’t sound as upset as she said.”

“Not with her,” I clarified. “I’m upset that I can’t reach her.”

“Yes, well, I’ll let her know. I need to go now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Moore.” For nothing.

I held my phone as I peered out the car’s window. The skies were gray and a cold rain had been falling off and on throughout day. It was the perfect weather for the way that call made me feel.

What the hell?

Chelsea was working for Montague. Maybe that was why she thought I’d be angry. Maybe she did know it was my family’s company, and I knew without a doubt that she knew how I felt about my family. But a job is a job.

If she’d gotten hired solely based on her degree and qualifications, I didn’t give a shit. I was happy for her. What concerned me was the rodent of suspicion that began to claw to life in the recesses of my mind: the belief that everything wasn’t that simple.

Why would my roommate, Chelsea Moore, whom my mother never seemed to like, be offered a job at Montague?

Someone was up to something and I feared that Chelsea would be the one who’d end up hurt in the process.

Once I was back in our apartment, I went to my office and Googled Montague Corporation. The picture on the website of the CEO made my skin crawl. It was probably taken over ten years ago. Alton’s hair still had a hint of blond, but his eyes were just as beady as ever.

It had felt good to be honest with Nox about things from my childhood. I’d been truthful, but not too explicit. Seeing Alton’s picture filled me with the dread I used to feel knowing he was home, under the same roof. It wasn’t only the corporal punishments or that I was a constant disappointment. It was his need to demean and belittle everything from my choices to my accomplishments. It was as if doing it made him more powerful.

I knew Alton had nothing to do with the daily hire of employees at Montague Corporation. That job was beneath him, unless it was to hire his own assistants. He liked having a part in that. Youth, big breasts, and long legs were the main requirements. I was pretty sure those particular attributes rated more than the ability to read and write.

My stomach churned at the thought of Chelsea working near him. Thank God she was in HR and not in administration.

I scrolled the website until I found an information telephone number.

Deciding if I would use my entire name, I programmed the number into my phone and hit call. It took an incessant amount of number-pushing, but I finally reached a real person.

“Montague Corporation, how may I assist your call?”

“I’m trying to reach one of your employees,” I replied.

“Ma’am, this is the general information number.”

“Then I need the number for your human resources department.”

“If this is a job inquiry, we ask that you visit our website at www—”

“No,” I said, interrupting the receptionist, “this isn’t a job inquiry. I need to speak to an employee who works in HR.”

“Do you know the party’s extension?”

“I don’t,” I said incredulously. “That’s why I called you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Your name?” I asked, using my most authoritative tone.

“Kate.”

“Kate, perhaps you’d like my name?”

“Ma’am, I can’t—”

“Alexandria Montague Collins. I will mention your lack of assistance to my father, Alton Fitzgerald, the next time we speak.” I spat out the words, not wanting them to remain on my tongue any longer than necessary. Kate didn’t need to know I had no intention of speaking to him anytime soon.

“Miss Collins, I’m sorry. May I connect you to human resources? Who is the employee you’d like to reach?”

“Chelsea Moore. I believe she was a recent hire.”

“Yes, she’d still be in our directory…”

Suddenly, Kate and I were best friends. She couldn’t do enough to help me, other than actually connect me to Chelsea. According to the person who answered in HR, Miss Moore was out of the office, but they would take my message.

As I hung up, I contemplated my new knowledge. At the very least I’d confirmed that Chelsea was all right. She was living in Savannah and employed at Montague Corporation. I couldn’t make heads or tails out of why, but that information was more than I knew this morning. I also knew to stop sending text messages to a phone she was no longer using.

I considered calling my mother or Jane and asking them what they knew, but what were the chances that either one of them knew anything about Chelsea? I was most certain that my best friend and mother weren’t frequenting the same establishments. I imagined Chelsea with a plastic ‘to go’ cup on River Street. My mother had never been to River Street after dark, and she’d lived in Savannah her entire life.

I had one last hope.

Since none of it made sense to me, I decided to call the one person who made sense out of everything.

“Deloris,” I said when she answered.

“Alex. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, fine.” As the words came from my lips, I heard the front door of the apartment open. I stilled and listened, knowing it was too early for Nox.

“Hello?” The friendly female voice came from the living room as the alarm system beeped with the input of a code.

I covered the mouthpiece. “Lana, I’m in my office.”

In merely a few seconds, she was stepping through the threshold. Lana was a nice-looking woman in her early forties with shoulder-length brown hair and a fit build. Whenever I saw her, she was dressed casually in blue jeans and Sketchers. I supposed there was no need to dress formally to cook, clean, and do laundry.

“It’s just me,” she said with a smile. “I’m never sure if anyone is here.”

“Only me,” I confirmed. “But I’ll stay out of your way. Mr. Demetri has made it perfectly clear that your cooking is preferred to mine.”

Her cheeks rose as she beamed at the compliment. “I’m sure if you had more time…”

I waved her off. “No. Time won’t help my culinary skills.” I pointed to my phone.

“Oh, sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I nodded as I went back to Deloris. “Sorry, Deloris. Lana just got here.”

“What can I do for you?” Deloris asked.

“I just learned that Chelsea has a new job.”

“You did?” she asked with more concern in her voice than seemed warranted.

“It’s not bad,” I reassured. “At least, I hope it isn’t.”

“It’s not?”

“Her mother told me that she’s working for Montague Corporation. Do you think that’s coincidental or just plain weird?”