Flatline - Murder | Mystery | Intrigue

Chapter 22

Kay

Going back to the office was going to be awkward as hell considering the man who everyone treated with reverence, was all but on his knees the day before. Still, life had to move forward so the sooner I got it over with, the better. It would be a quick stop anyway as I needed to get to the shoot location. I thought about Emile as I drove to the office and wondered if I had done the right thing. I had certainly enjoyed our physical chemistry, but at what cost? We hadn’t exactly got off on the right foot and it had been steadily downhill from there. I didn’t think we’d be great long term, all things considered. It was time to forget Emile and probably Peter too, but I’d have to spend some time figuring the Peter situation out too. 

I walked into the building to find shocked and worried faces all around me. I frowned as I slowed to figure out what was happening. Just as I reached the lift, the doors opened and Giana was being led out in handcuffs by two police officers. I froze, wide-eyed as they passed me. Giana was the quietest girl in the office; I was reeling. She had always seemed so conscientious and hard working and at just twenty-one years old, everyone had high hopes for her. I couldn’t even begin to fathom why she would be arrested. 

“Close your mouth,” Jess said as she walked up to me. My mouth closed instantly, but I couldn’t even muster a word. 

“What the hell?” I finally managed to say. As if I hadn’t had enough surprises that week.

“Apparently she embezzled loads of money.” Jess said as she crossed her arms on her chest and frowned in Giana’s direction. “To the tune of  six million Rand and you know she has a two year old kid too. I’m sure it has something to do with her boyfriend; he’s so much older than her and I’m almost sure he is abusive.”

“Really? Giana did? I didn’t even know she had a kid.” I was still bewildered. That was obviously the reason the company was in distress, not that I cared anymore. As soon as I could, I would be out of there. “Well, I suppose after the week I’ve had, nothing should surprise me anymore,” I muttered. 

“What do you mean, Kay?” Jess directed her frown at me and waited for an answer. I sighed, I’d have to update her quickly. 

“Well, to make a long story short, Emile propositioned me the other night. When I declined, he tried to blackmail me with the account.” Jess’s eyes widened. “That’s not even all of it,” I started moving towards my cubicle and gestured for her to follow, “I told Mr Andrews about it. He felt it was my fault and after we exchanged some… words, he fired me.” 

“What the hell?” Jess exclaimed. I put my hand up to stop her imminent tirade. 

“Yeah, well it gets weirder. Somehow Emile found out that  I had been let go and insisted I be rehired or he would cancel the deal. Despite my refusal on the phone, Mr Andrews then came to my house and apologized.” I ran a hand through my hair, saying it out loud really brought home how crazy the last few days had been. “Emile then wanted to meet for a drink, I wanted to know what he was thinking so I went. He apologized and well… we kinda had a hot session after that.” I smirked as the look on Jess’s face became more and more comical. 

“Holy crap girl! That’s a whole lot of drama right there,” she said. “For someone who had such a quiet life not so long ago, you could easily have a reality show now,” she giggled and I slapped her shoulder.

“It might seem funny now, but it really wasn’t at the time,” I scolded. “Anyway, I really need to get going. I want to be at the location before anyone else and I really want to avoid Mr Andrews. I also want to drop off some snacks for Seth on my way.” I sat down at my desk and started sending out messages with the location and schedule to all involved. 

“Ok, well stay out of trouble. I’ll see you Monday,” Jess said as she moved over to her cubicle. I waved goodbye and thanked her. 

Twenty minutes later I was back in my car heading to the location having dropped off Seth’s snacks which I had packed at home. It wasn’t visiting hours so I planned to return that evening and spend some time with him. I missed him terribly and felt incredibly thankful that he was spared. My life would have a huge hole in it without him. 

I drove into Hanover Park slowly, trying to avoid the ever-present potholes and quite thankful that my old Toyota Corolla wasn’t flashy. Poorly dressed kids ran amok, playing in the streets unsupervised. The suburb spanned about two square kilometers and was home to over thirty-five thousand people, yet it was a community where neighbors knew each other well and looked out for each others’ kids. The area also had two opposing gangs and Peter wasn’t wrong when he said it was exceptionally dangerous. I was hoping to be in and out as quickly as possible.

I parked at the chosen location. On one side was an unfenced set of two-storied buildings with the tiniest apartments facing each other. The staircases placed on the outside broke the uniformity of the unkempt buildings and the washing lines placed in the middle provided a burst of color in the otherwise drab setting. Children of all ages ran around playing and squealing at the top of their little voices. It was busy. 

On the other side of the road was an open field with peeling a set of swings, a slide and a merry-go-round in bright primary colors. A few kids were enjoying those too. I got out of the car and took a look around, wondering where Eric and the creative director would position the models. I was quite excited to work with Eric. He had quickly made a name for himself as an innovative and unorthodox photographer. I didn’t know much about the art, but he seemed to have developed a personal formula that gave his work a very recognizable edge. We were very lucky to get him; his work would almost guarantee a successful campaign. 

“Kay, it’s lovely to see you,” Eric said as he walked up to me. I smiled, it had been years since we had last seen each other and this was our first opportunity to work together professionally. The years had been good to him; his long, curly dark hair, olive skin tone, full lips and dark broody eyes made quite a handsome combination. It was obvious that he worked out too, his skin-tight jeans and fitted shirt showed off his physique in all the right ways. He was beautiful to look at. 

“Hi Kent,” I greeted as he leaned in for a hug. His cologne was mesmerizing, it smelled earthy with hints of Oud and money; it must have cost a pretty penny. Eric was certainly a catch and I vaguely wondered if some lucky woman had scooped him up. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help at such short notice. I know we haven’t ever been close so I really appreciate it,” I said. 

“It’s my pleasure.” He smiled and it was dazzling. “I was intrigued, I believe this setting will yield some exceptional work. Also, I’ve always wanted to work with you,” he replied. My eyebrows rose involuntarily. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him. 

“What?” I choked. “Wow, I didn’t even think you remembered me,” I replied, frowning. Why would the celebrated Eric want to work with an unknown advertising executive like me? 

“I have a little confession,” he smirked and the s*x appeal poured off him. “I had a crush on you back in high school,” he said sheepishly. “I wish I had done something about it then, it’s one of my few regrets.” He moved a little closer to me. “I have been following your career, hoping we could work together someday so I was very pleased to get your call.” 

“Good morning,” a deep voice interrupted, causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. My body instinctively recognized that voice. Emile strode over to us with a frown and I fought to contain the eye roll that so desperately wanted to appear. Still, I couldn’t deny that my heart rate had sped up as soon as I heard his voice. 

“Good morning Emile, this is Eric Kent, our photographer and an old friend. Eric, this is Emile Riley, owner and CEO of Flatline clothing” I replied. I figured since it had been in the papers already, there was no point in hiding his true role in the company.  

“I’ve heard of you, nice to meet you,” Emile said as he extended a hand in greeting, but the expression on his face didn’t match his words. Eric shook his hand. 

“Good to meet you,” Eric said, matching Emile’s body language. I sighed mentally; yet more testosterone. 

Just then the creative director, Joe Mansfield, and the models arrived in their respective vehicles. Six models of varying sizes and ethnicity piled out of a van and sauntered over to us. I watched as their eyes widened in recognition and could already feel the sense of competition between them over the two gorgeous men standing in front of me. It annoyed me to no end, but I refused to show it. 

“Hi,” a leggy blonde simpered, running her hand over Emile’s arm.