64 | THREE STAGES OF ANGER

JOY

I followed Richard into the tall building with long glass windows and excellent furnishing and everything posh. The floor was cream marble and the walls were bright white. Opposite the entrance was the reception table. Two women in proper shirts and skirts, blazers and vests, smiled at us as we entered. 

“Mr Brown,” one of them said.

Richard only gave a terse nod and walked past the table toward the elevator, ignoring their bright smiles.

I really wanted to greet them, given how neglected they looked, but I was too worried to even fake a smile in my defence.

We’d gone to Vince’s penthouse, but he wasn’t there. The place seemed ghostly. Beau was currently at the police station and his phone was out of reach, like Vince’s. I knew I shouldn’t have hidden it. But who knew he was observant enough to catch it?

I remembered his lectures on listening before reacting, but now he was doing the same thin