A Promised Fate (17 page)

“How do you know this woman?”

“Like I said, we’ve worked together in the past.
Lirik and I share the same passion. Go easy on her this week.
Fashion Week isn’t something she’s used to. It’ll be hell on her.
It is hell on everyone.”

“Hmm.” My glasses bumped up my forehead as I rubbed
at the bridge of my nose. “Ava hasn’t mentioned Fashion Week
much.”

“I talked with her about the show over lunch just the
other day,” Margaux reassured me. “She’s excited to announce the
new children’s line with me. She’s nervous, naturally, but she’ll
have you there for support. She’ll be great. People love seeing
Ava, you know that.”

“They really do.”

“Beauty like hers is rare. She has
a certain
je ne sais quoi
that most people would kill for.”

“Mmm.”

Margaux sensed my hesitance. “I
need you on board with me. If Ava sees that you are wavering about
her attending the Saturday show, she’ll back out on me. This entire
event is based around her -- the future of
baio
is riding on this.”

“I am protective of her. I can’t help but have cold
feet about this situation.”

“I know you are protective, Ari, and that is why I
like you. You always put her first.”

“Someone has to.”

“Let’s just get this issue between us off our chests
right now.”

“Fine.”

“I know that you never approved
those images for marketing. I did it myself. The photo hit print.
It’s a done deal. Ava is
baio
. Her image is what sells. The
timing on this couldn’t be more perfect, ten years, new faces, new
babies, new clothing line. I want this. Let’s not forget that I
still own this company.
Baio
is mine until I die, and then you two can piece
if off, burn it down, or run my name into the ground, but not a
moment sooner.”

“I thought Ava would want to review the images
first.”

“She’ll be fine with the ad campaign. She is darling
in it, what’s not to love?”

“We are really putting her out there. I worry she’ll
get too much exposure. The media has a frenzy when she is spotted
already. What if this hype pushes her image too far into the
spotlight? Privacy is important to us.”

“You’re thinking too much about this. It’s one little
week. She’ll be at the show for three hours tops and I have given
approval for just one interview. By the way, her dress is ready.
She’s going to love it! I am so excited to see her in it.”

“I’m sure she will love the dress. She always does.
There is nothing I can do to get you to change your mind on this?
Did you see the other campaign ideas?”

“Decorators are at the show site with the image right
now. You’re too late.”

I stood from my seat, our informal meeting was
nowhere near finished but I didn’t want to talk another minute
about exploiting my wife in order to sell new jeans.

The image she approved for marking the event was a
series of photos from Ava’s private life. The most intimate in my
opinion was a photo taken ten years earlier at the first ever
baio
show. Billboards, posters and
baio
stores and
merchandise bags would be plastered with a picture of nine-year-old
Ava in a sunny yellow dress squeezing Margaux’s bony fingers right
before the two walked down the runway at the close of the show. To
me, it was obvious that Ava was scared out of her mind, but to
everyone else, the photo would be sweet and would show the strong
bond of a loving grandmother who set out to design clothes with her
granddaughter in mind. The images seemed harmless but the intent
was what hit my gut all wrong.

Ava and Margaux would once again be walking down the
runway together at the close of Fashion Week during the Saturday
night event. Max and I were set to join them. B
aio
would be
making the official announcement of Ava’s pregnancy, the newest
heir or heiress of the company, and Margaux would also be
announcing her new venture,
baio babe
; a
baio
clothing line for babies and children. Ava loathed the idea of
carting Max out in front of all those people but Margaux can be
persuasive and she had somehow won the battle.

“I didn’t realize we were finished here.” Margaux
frowned at the untouched stack of agreements.

“I think we are good here.”

“I’m on your side, Ari. Really, I am. ” She said and
I left without a second glance.

It had been nearly two hours since
Ava’s scheduled appointment and I had yet to hear from her. Ava is
always good about calling me as soon as she leaves Phillips’
office. Given our past together, when I don’t hear from her right
away, I assume the very worst. My heart was already beginning to
pick up its beating pulse and my mind raced with an endless supply
of
what ifs
.

“Messages?” I asked Lirik without breaking my
stride.

She shook her head no and opened her mouth to talk,
but I shut the door behind me before she got a word out and phoned
Ava again. My call was sent back to voicemail. I left another
rushed message and then called my mother.

“Has Ava picked Max up yet?” I didn’t even give her
the chance to say hello.

“He’s still here. I haven’t heard from Ava yet. Why?
Is everything alright?”

“Go next door and check to see if she’s home and then
call me back on my cell.”

The ache in the pit of my stomach was like an alarm
bell. Something wasn’t right. I had been ignoring my feelings of
unease all morning, blaming my disquiet on stress and the new
assistant. From the moment I reached the reception desk, something
felt wrong. I paced the floor in front of my office window and
impatiently waited for someone to call me.

My cell phone rang from my pocket and I scrambled to
answer the call. It was my mother.

“I am here and Ava’s nowhere in sight, Ari. She is
probably still with the doctor.” Her footsteps echoed through the
line as she walked into our home.

“Is her car in the garage?”

“Let me check…” The quick opening
and closing of the door leading from the kitchen hall to the garage
sounded in the phone while my mother opened and then closed it
again. “No, it isn’t…
Tsk
. Here’s the problem
…”

“What, what is it?”

“Ava left her cell on the kitchen
counter.
And
her
new watch. Oh, lookie here
and
her wedding ring and necklace.”

“
Great
.”

“Ari, how many times do I have to tell you two to
stop leaving your bedroom TV on? I mean, seriously that is so
irresponsible -- you waste so much energy doing that.”

“Ma, we didn’t leave our TV on.”

“I can hear talking coming from the TV in your room
-- it’s clear as day.”

“No you can’t,” I sighed. “Believe me, we weren’t
watching TV this morning.”

She
tsked
again.
“Boy, you two are messy. There’s stuff everywhere,
Ari.”

“Whatever … just check to see if she left a note. She
might have gone to the gym or something.”

“Oh no!” My mother breathed into the phone.

“What?!” I shouted.

“Sorry!” she squeaked. “Calm down. It’s nothing --
just an accident.”

“What the hell are you talking about!?”

“Is that how you talk to someone who is doing you a
favor?” She scolded me for yelling at her. Her tone was too playful
for my frantic and worried mind. She caught on to my annoyance when
I breathed heavily into the phone and then my mother went on to
explain the situation she stumbled across. “It’s nothing, a photo
frame must have somehow fallen from the wall. There’s some broken
glass on floor. It’s not a big deal. I’ll clean it up before Ava
gets home.”

“What? Why would a frame just fall from the
wall?”

“Accidents happen. Darn…” She kept talking but her
chatter was mostly just to herself, “That was my favorite picture
of you three. You’ll need a new frame for that one for sure …
completely shattered as if someone ripped it from the wall and
threw it across the room ... what a shame. There is a lot more
glass than I would expect from that tiny frame … oh, wow, there’s
glass everywhere…”

Fear hit me like a tidal wave. Sweat stung my pores
and I froze in my chair and hairs painfully pricked the back of my
neck. Something was wrong, -- the bedroom TV was rarely on, when I
left our home that morning the place had been clean, the frame
would not just fall from the wall.

“Ma,” I swallowed a balloon-sized
gulp of air, “Ma, get out of the house
now
.” I could only whisper to keep
from screaming.

“There is glass everywhere, if I don’t vacuum this
up, Max will end up with a cut on his foot or worse.”

“Ma, you need to listen to me. Get out of the house.
We will clean it later. Go check on Max and Lauren.”

“They're fine, they were watching a movie. This will
only take me a minute to clean.” The tinkling of lose shards of
glass rattled against the dustpan.

“Ma,” I yelled at her at the top of
my lungs, “Get out of the God-damn house
right
now!
Someone is in there …
Go!
”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. The broom handle
clattered on the hardwood floor and a cold chill trickled down my
back, goose bumps crawled up my skin.

My mother ran through the house, the muffled sounds
of her quick footsteps were the only reassurance I had that she was
safe, the swooshing of the glass door was next, followed by the
roaring ocean waves letting me know that she was outside the
house.

I kept her on my cell phone and reached across my
desk to dial 911. I reported a break in, shouted my address at them
and hung up the line.

“Where are you?” I yelled at my mother.

“Home,” her voice trembled and she started to cry.
“I’m home.”

“Stay there. Lock your doors, the police are on their
way.”

I left the
baio
office without a word to
anyone. The soft side of my closed fist pounded the elevator key
pad until it dinged upon arrival. My tires squealed out of the
parking lot and I drove further into L.A. towards the hospital and
Dr. Phillips’ office. If I didn't find Ava there, then I would know
that something terrible had happened to her.

Clinging on to a speck of hope, I left my car idling
in front of the doctor’s office and raced through the doorway to
the main lobby. Too impatient for the elevator to take me three
flights up, I opted for the stairs and took them two at time. The
waiting room was full. I scanned every face looking for her. The
receptionist was on the phone and I talked over her conversation,
uncaring that I was interrupting her. “I am looking for Ava
Alexander. This is an emergency.”

She held her pointer finger up, gave me an annoyed
and incredulous scowl and then pushed a sign-in sheet attached to a
clipboard across the desk at me.

Reaching across the cheap laminate countertop and
over the small Plexiglas barrier, I pushed my finger down on the
phone piece, ending her call.

“Excuse
me
, Sir! You will have to sign in
and take a seat like the rest of the patients.” She gestured to the
full waiting room.

“I need to know if Ava Alexander is here with Dr.
Phillips. This is an emergency.”

“We respect the rights of our patients. Due to the
confidentially laws, I cannot release any information to you.”

“Listen to me. This isn’t
‘releasing information’ -- this is an emergency. I need to know if
my wife is here, or when she left.
Please
.”

“Ari?”

My heart soared. My burning lungs finally let go of
the oxygen they had been holding since the phone call with my
mother.

“Ari, what the heck are you doing here?”

“Christ, Ava. Are you ok?”

Dr. Phillips and Ava had walked together through the
door that separated the exam rooms from the waiting area. He
frowned at me.

“Ari, you are crossing a line.” Ava’s arms folded
tightly across her chest in disapproval at me barging in on her at
the clinic.

“No, you don’t understand. We have an emergency at
home and I couldn’t reach you. I needed to make sure you were here
and safe and not somewhere else.”

Her face fell. “What is it? Is it Max? Is he
alright?” Her fingers shook as she brought them up to her lips.

“Max is fine.”

“What is going on then, Ari?” Worry filled her big
pretty eyes.

“My mother walked in on someone breaking into our
home. We need to get back to talk with the police.”

“It’s the middle of day.” Her brow pulled into a deep
stitch of confusion.

“I know… I don’t understand it myself, but we have to
go.”

“
Ava,
” Dr. Phillips said with
emphasis, “Call the office if you need us.”

“I will.” She nodded at Dr. Phillips. “Thank you for
all your help today.” Her voice was weak and full of emotion.

I glanced at the time on my watch while she talked.
She had been with him for over two hours. Something was going on
with her. She was keeping a secret from me.

“Can you describe any defining features? Hair or eye
color? Any tattoos or scars?”

Ava and I sat with my mother in her kitchen and
talked with police. Tears streamed down my mom’s cheeks and a
growing pile of tissues mounted up on her lap.

“I … it just happened so quickly. I looked up, saw
people and ran. I can’t remember many details. I’m in such shock.
This is such a peaceful neighborhood. Why would someone do
this?”