Page 60 of When Ice Queens Collide
Chapter 24: Simone
The bag was on the bed by seven-fifty. A weekend bag, soft-sided, the one she'd bought in Milan years ago. In it were two changes of clothes, a second pair of shoes, and a toiletry kit. Her laptop went on top.
The plant was still on the kitchen windowsill. A pothos in a clay pot, the leaves variegated green and cream, the vines just long enough to start trailing down the edge of the sill. She had bought it the Saturday after her mother left, walking past a flower shop downtown. The woman behind the counter had told her pothos were difficult to kill.
She picked up the pot. The clay was warm where the sun had been on it. She picked up the bag with her right hand and the plant with her left and went to the door.
In the elevator she set the plant on the rail and watched the floor numbers descend. Twenty-nine. Twenty-two. Fifteen.
Outside, the air was cold and smelled like wet cement. She set the plant on the passenger seat and braced it with the bag soit would not tip on the turns. She turned onto the road at eight-twenty.
The Vaughn Industries lobby was full of morning light and people moving through it with coffee cups. Marcela at the front desk recognized her, took half a second to register the difference, and then asked her to sign in. Simone signed in, and she handed her a visitor's badge on a lanyard. Simone clipped it to her lapel and rode the elevator up.
Helen was at her desk. She stood when the elevator opened. “Ms. Rousseau.”
“Hi, Helen.”
“They're in the conference room. Ruth has the documents. Alexandra is on a call but she'll be in by ten.”
“Thank you.”
Helen had a clipboard against her hip and the same composed expression she had worn every time Simone had passed her, but she stood a half-step closer than usual and said, evenly, “Welcome.” Then she turned back to her desk.
Simone walked down the corridor. The conference room door was open. Ruth was at the head of the table with two associates and a stack of bound folders, and she nodded at Simone. Simone took the chair on the long side of the table and set her phone face-down beside her water glass. She wrapped her hand around her water glass; it was cold and sent a shock through her system.
Ruth said something quiet to one of the associates, and the associate left the room. Across from Simone, the other associate was reading the document in front of her. Outside the windows, a gull cut a slow line across the harbor and disappeared behind the glass of the next building.
Alexandra came in at nine-fifty-eight. She was wearing a dark gray pantsuit, and her hair was pulled back in a loosebun. On her way to her seat, she glanced at Simone, a brief acknowledgment, and Simone felt it in her chest.
“All set?” Alexandra asked the room.
“All set,” Ruth said.
Meg came in then with the final draft of the release in her hand. She set a copy in front of Alexandra and a copy in front of Simone. Simone had read this document four times already in the last forty-eight hours—first with Audrey, then with the Rousseau Global lawyers, then with Alexandra on the phone Wednesday night. They had written it together. Re-reading it now, she found nothing to change.
She looked up to see Alexandra already looking up at her. “Ready.”
“Ready,” Alexandra agreed.
Meg took both copies and went out. Minutes later, Simone heard phones begin to ring down the corridor. Simone's phone buzzed face-down on the table, but she did not turn it over yet. She watched as Alexandra picked up her own phone and read something on it, her profile very still, the light from the window catching the line of her jaw and the silver at her temple.
Simone finally turned over her phone. Audrey had already sent three messages from London: a confirmation that the Rousseau Global side had gone out at the same time, the European market reaction, and one line:Well done. Talk Monday.
Simone put the phone face-down again. More calls came in. Simone and Alexandra worked through the morning, and the room emptied around them in stages. By one, only she and Alexandra were left. Alexandra stood at the window with her phone against her ear, and Simone closed her laptop and looked up.
Alexandra finished the call. She set the phone on the windowsill and stayed there for a moment with her back to the room.
“Long morning,” Simone said.
Alexandra turned. The composure she had worn for the conference room loosened just at the edges. “Yes.”
She crossed back to the table and stopped beside Simone's chair. She did not sit. She put one hand flat on the table next to Simone's laptop, close enough that her little finger touched the edge of Simone's sleeve, and she stood there for a moment looking down at her.
“All right?” Alexandra asked.
“Yeah, I’m all right.”
Alexandra's hand stayed where it was. Simone reached over and covered it with her own. “I'll see you at the house,” Simone said.
