Page 96 of Fake Dark Vows
They don’t.
Sumaira is waiting for me when I step out of the elevator, a gold embroidered silk robe fastened around her waist, fluffy mules on her feet. “Brandon? Is it your father?”
“No. His condition is stable. That’s not why I’m here.”
She, too, eyes me up, her eyes lingering on my unshaven face and bloodshot eyes. I’ve lost all concept of time but looking at the pink-gray sky taking up most of the view from the tall windows, I’m guessing it’s almost dawn. I don’t even know how long Rose has been missing.
I follow her into the open-plan kitchen where she starts the coffee machine. “You look like you could use some caffeine.”
“I need to speak to Ron. Is he here?”
Her eyes drift towards the bedroom and back again, and she busies herself finding cups and spoons. The kitchen cabinets are shiny crimson, the accessories ivory, the black marble counter, a reflection of Sumaira’s vibrant culture—it’s a complete contrast to my mother’s kitchen which is pale and understated, designed to draw the eye away from the cooking area.
“No,” she says now. “He isn’t here.”
“Where is he? Can I get in touch with him?” I’m already sliding my phone out of my pocket.
“I-I don’t know where he is.”
I swallow and inhale the aroma of fresh coffee beans. I need caffeine more than I realized. “Has he been to see my father?”
She shakes her head. She doesn’t move from behind the counter as if the promise of caffeine is what’s keeping her upright too.
“What’s going on, Sumaira?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice breaks.
“Rose is missing, and I think that Ron is involved somehow. Please, Sumaira, I need you to help me. Anything that you can tell me, anything at all.”
Her shoulders heave with unshed sobs. I walk around the counter and pull her into a hug. It’s a bizarre sensation hugging one of my parents’ friends—they’ve always been around, strong, loyal, people I looked up to—and this scenario should be flipped on its head. She should be the one comforting me.
I settle her on the couch, fill two cups with steaming black coffee, and sit opposite her. When she has calmed down, she tells me what she knows between small dainty sips.
“He hasn’t been the same since the takeover bid. I talk to him, and he isn’t listening. He’s away with the fairies most of the time. I asked him if there was another way for him to keep control of the business, and he told me it wasn’t that simple. I wanted to help.” She looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I wanted to help, Brandon.”
“But he wouldn’t discuss it with you?”
“I’ve never gotten involved with the business. He asked me why I wanted to start now when it was out of his control.”
“What did he mean: out of his control?”
“I don’t know.” She slides a silk handkerchief from the pocket of her robe and uses it to dab the tears from under her eyes. “Do you know what’s wrong with him, Brandon? I know the company has been his life, but what about me? What about our daughter? Our plans for retirement?”
I swallow a mouthful of coffee. It isn’t enough to dispel the swirling uneasiness in my gut. “I guess, sometimes, plans don’t feel real until it’s happening.” I pause. “Did he ever mention Rose to you before now? Rose Carter?”
“Rose Carter?” She furrows her brow.
“My mother’s temporary housekeeper on Ruby Island.”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I set my empty cup down on the coffee table and rise. “I can’t stay, Sumaira, but I’ll speak to Ron. See if we can reach some sort of agreement.”
The sun is spreading its glow above the skyline of glass towers when I emerge onto the sidewalk. I call Julia. Her number is still unobtainable. I walk without thinking, my legs carrying me forward until I’m standing outside the Russo building.
When Carlos Russo first started out, he took over the entire top level of the building, and as his business grew, he spread his wings to the lower levels, but refused to move. He remembered his roots, and I also heard him say once that moving to another building or another city would bring bad luck upon him and his family.
I don’t stop to speak to the security guard.