Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Percy?”
“Ms. Hawthorne,” he says. “I do apologize for arriving unannounced.”
I blink, still trying to recover from the sheer surprise of finding him outside my door. “Um… what can I do for you?”
His expression changes, more subdued and conciliatory. “I would greatly appreciate it if you came with me.”
My body immediately stiffens. “Came with you where?”
“Mr. Langley would like—”
A bitter laugh escapes me, cutting him off. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“I understand your reticence,” Percy replies calmly, and the frustrating thing is that he sounds like he genuinely does understand. “Truly, I do.”
“Oh, I don’t think you do,” I snap at him and then immediately feel awful. I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry, Percy. My anger isn’t for you. It’s for Julian.”
“I cannot even begin to imagine,” he says sympathetically. “And frankly, I would not be here if it weren’t for Mr. Langley’s incompetence of botching everything up with you.” I blink in surprise at the harsh words for not only his employer but for the man who is like a son to him. “Please know I would not be asking this of you if I didn’t know it was absolutely of the utmost importance that you come with me. Not important, but rather critical.”
I fold my arms tightly across my chest, trying to hold on to my anger because it’s safer than the alternative, letting vulnerability seep in. “Critical for him or for me?” I ask.
“Both of you,” he responds. “This is critically important for both of you.”
I eye him with skepticism, and because I’m still salty, I can’t help but say, “It seems to me the height of a man’s laziness that he can’t come himself but rather sends his butler to make apologies.”
Percy’s chin jerks inward and he looks offended. “I am not here to do Mr. Langley’s work in winning you back, Ms. Hawthorne. I’m here because you won’t respond to his texts and he would very much like to talk to you. I’ve been tasked with the unenviable position of getting you to agree to see him, and we’re both banking on your empathy of my plight.”
Okay, part of me is charmed and he must sense it because he adds on, “Please… I fear Julian will terminate me if I don’t follow through on this.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Percy. You and I both know you’re the most important person in his life. He couldn’t survive without you.”
“Survival, Ms. Hawthorne. You said it right there. Survival is what this is about. Please… please come with me.”
Despite my best efforts to remain unmoved, and perhaps because my curiosity gets the better of me, twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Julian’s Town Car while Manhattan slowly disappears behind us. Percy tried to get me to sit in the back seat, but I refused.
The drive unfolds mostly in silence. Not uncomfortable silence exactly. More the kind that is somehow respectful, like Percy understands I’m trying to hold myself together and has no desire to crowd me while I do it.
After crossing over the Triboro Bridge, the familiar warmth and electricity of Uptown gives way to a world that’s colder and more industrial. Warehouses. Long stretches of chain-link fencing. Freight yards with lighting that signals workers still doing their thing.
Welcome to Queens.
I glance over at Percy once or twice, thinking maybe he’ll explain where we’re going, but he remains focused on the road, both hands steady against the steering wheel.
The farther we drive, the more I begin to wonder.
“We’re nearly there,” he advises me.
Finally, Percy slows the car near a long iron fence before making a left turn through open gates.
And then I see it: St. Michael’s Cemetery. Rows and rows of tombstones stretch endlessly across rolling hills.
“Why are we here?” I ask in confusion. “Why did you bring me to a cemetery?”
Percy doesn’t answer. Instead, he drives deeper into the sanctuary until I spot a small hill up ahead.
And that’s when I spot Julian. Even from this distance I recognize his frame.
He stands alone near the top of the hill in a long black coat, silhouetted against the gray sky while a drizzle begins and rain falls softly around him. He looks completely motionless, carved into the landscape itself.
Is someone being buried tonight?
The car rolls to a stop quietly along the path below the hill.
Percy shifts the car into park but doesn’t immediately look at me. His gaze remains fixed on Julian standing alone in the rain.
Then finally he turns in his seat. “I believe,” he says gently, “it’s time.”
I stare through the windshield at Julian, confusion and dread and hurt all tangling violently together inside me.
Percy’s voice softens further. “My advice, if I may…” I glance toward him and he hands me an umbrella. “Listen… with not just your ears… but your heart too.”