Annihilate Me by Christina Ross Read Free Book Online Page B

make a good beef stew?”
    “Absolutely.   And a chicken soup that will curl your
toes.   And obviously fish—I
can do any sort of fish, and it always will be tender for the same reason those
eggs you’re cooking will be.   Low,
low heat.   Oh, and I can do a
macaroni and cheese with fresh mushrooms, lobster, and spinach that you’ll
never forget.   And I have a bit more
up my sleeve.   Just not the super
fancy stuff you’re about to do.”
    “I’m
so glad you’re here, Jennifer.”
    We
went into the kitchen, which was a massive space filled with high-end
appliances, a large bar area with comfortable stools, lots of overhead
lighting, and the aroma of fresh coffee.  
    “Would
you like a cup?”
    “I’m
dying for a cup.”
    “Cream?   Sugar?”
    “Both,
please.”
    Before
he poured the coffee into a large white mug, he put out a tray service.   “Help yourself.”
    I
went straight for the cream and sugar, and indulged.   He watched me with a smile.   The coffee was delicious.   After getting almost no sleep, I was
thankful for it.  
    And
I knew I was damned lucky for him.   I watched him move around the kitchen, which seemed like a lover to
him.   He knew exactly where
everything was.   I watched him chop
the tarragon and lightly beat the eggs with a bit of heavy cream in a glass
bowl.   He prepared the asparagus
with olive oil and salt for roasting, and ground the fresh Parmesan in a food
processor so it could be used later.   The croissants looked divine and flaky beneath the domed pastry dish.   Butter softened to room temperature sat
beside them.   Next to the croissants
were two white plates, silverware, napkins, and two juice glasses.   The Times was to my right.
    I
opened it to the business section while he cooked.   I scanned the page and was surprised to
find a story with a headline that read “Wenn Eyes Kobus Airlines.”   It was a brief story that detailed the
troubled airline and how its fleet could benefit the successful Wenn Air.   When asked if the rumors were true, Wenn
declined comment, though the Times reported that several unnamed sources confirmed
that Wenn did plan to go forward with a takeover bid.    Gordon Kobus, who owned the
airline, did comment.   I remembered
him from the fundraising gala at the Museum of Natural History   where he stared with open hostility at
Alex while we were in the Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda.   The man gave me the creeps.   His quote gave me a chill:   “Alexander Wenn’s father once wanted my
airline, and he failed to take it away from me.   So will his son, who isn’t half the
businessman his father was.   He’s a
mere boy.   It won’t happen.   Mr. Wenn can rest assured of that.   I will fight him and the board of Wenn
Enterprises every step of the way should they come anywhere near Kobus.”
    “That’s
just a damned threat,” I said aloud.
    Alex
put the asparagus in the oven and looked up at me.   “You found the story, I see.”
    “Who
leaked it?”
    He
shrugged.   “Somebody did.   It might have been Kobus himself.”
    “Because
his stock would soar on such news.”
    “That’s
right.”
    “I
hope it didn’t come from in-house.”
    “I’ll
never know.   The board is behind the
idea, so I’m thinking it didn’t come from anyone within Wenn.   I’m thinking Kobus wanted his stock to
rise on the news.   As for the
‘unnamed sources,’ I have no clue who they could be.”
    I
decided to go there.   “Last night,
you seemed distracted when you picked me up.   This morning, I felt the same way when I
saw you.   I’m assuming this is why.”
    “It
isn’t.”
    “Then,
what’s troubling you?”
    He
reached for an oven timer and set it for the asparagus.   “I want to spend more time with you, but
I can already see that going forward that’s going to be difficult.   Sometimes it’s going to be
impossible.   That worries me.   And it frustrates me because I don’t see
an end to it.   I