Goddess

Huxley

Mother has given Goddess the day off with the night she has had. We returned a couple of hours ago after staying the night at one of the local hotels. After taking her to file the report, I ensured we had two separate rooms but made sure they were adjoining just in case she needed me. I know she welcomed the remaining of the night to be alone to process all that had transpired. This morning when we returned, she wasted no time hurrying to her room to go back to bed—probably up much of the night with her thoughts.

The burner that I keep nestled in my front jean pocket buzzes, and I excuse myself from the main dining room where I was enjoying a late breakfast. This is the call I’ve been hoping not to get. Only one person has access to this number.

“It’s time,” the voice on the other end notifies. “You have to move.”

“How long do I have?”

“A day. Two max, but with greater risk.”

Shit. These time constraints are not ideal. “Source?”

“Unknown.”

“Reboot.”

“Affirmative.”

Though cryptic, the instructions are clear. This orchestrated Houdini act will require finesse, but I know I need to start with my mother. I find her where I knew she’d be—the kitchen. She’s kneading dough to be made into rustic Italian crusty bread later.

“Just can’t stay out of the kitchen,” I tease, causing her to look up. She gives me a shrug before a guilty grin threatens to break through.

“What else would I do with my time if I wasn’t keeping myself busy? Besides, it helps for the staff to see I’m in this with them.”

“And I’m sure they greatly appreciate you. I just have to give you a hard time.”

She stops kneading. “What’s on your mind? You sought me out for a reason, and I’m sure it wasn’t just to tease me about being hands-on in the kitchen. Is Goddess doing okay?”

She gives me a side-eye. My mom is nothing if not preceptive. She’s always had a sixth sense, and I hate that I have to lie to her.

“Something pressing has come up back in New York. I need to leave for about a week—two at most, but I’ll be back.”

She levels me with a stare, looking for the lie within my gaze. “You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you, Huxley?”

“Of course not. Why would you ask that?” I school my features and take care not to give anything away.

“Because while I enjoy having you here, your arrival seems calculated. What handsome young man would want to be stuck in some small town unless he’s running from something? Your life is in the big city— always has been from the moment you were old enough to leave home.”

“City life is great, but it is missing one thing. You. If I thought for a second that I could persuade you to leave this place and open an Italian restaurant in New York, I’d move you there myself.” I chuckle. “I promise it’s just business.”

It is business, so technically, I didn’t lie. And I do plan to come back in a couple of weeks once this job is done. I know the words that will fall from her lips before she utters them, and I hate that I’ve had to use my power of manipulation against her.

“So then you will have no problem bringing Goddess with you? I mean, what if that fiancé of hers comes back?”

And there it is. “Why would I do that? Besides, she filed charges on him last night and has a restraining order.”

“You and I both know that doesn’t make her safe. I know she has been biding her time here until she figures out her next move. Maybe New York is it.”

I knew she would suggest that I take Goddess with me. In part to verify I’m not in some kind of trouble and also to ensure that Goddess is safe and has a chance to go to a city with more opportunities than Marietta.

“I’ll talk to her tonight,” I assure. “I’m heading out first light.”

“Do you need me to talk to her? She may be more open to the idea if she knows that I’m the one who thinks she should go. She’s always welcome back here, of course.”

“Thank you for offering, but I can handle it.” Goddess doesn’t know it yet, but she has no other option.

I give my mother a reassuring hug, unfazed by the flour that transfers from the front of her apron to my shirt. If she senses anything further, she doesn’t mention it.

I back out of the kitchen and then take the stairs two at a time. I need to alert my men to ready the estate. My reprieve was brief but needed. Operation Phantom has been activated.