The call was from Michael.
“Dude, why aren’t you picking up? I’ve called you like three or four times. If you kept ignoring me, I was about to call the cops.”
“My phone was on silent for some reason. Didn’t hear a thing,” Clive replied, raising an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you try my work number?”
“You changed your work number a few weeks ago, remember? I never saved the new one.”
Clive paused, suddenly remembering. He’d switched numbers right after Amelia woke up. He’d been so busy back then that Kristen had taken care of it for him.
“So, what’s up?” Clive asked, scrolling through his mountain of unread messages.
His finger froze when he spotted a missed call from Amelia that morning, right around the start of the workday. The ringtone had gone on for over a minute.
Clive frowned and walked out to the living room. He dropped onto the sofa and checked his work phone. Sure enough, Kristen’s call had come in right after Amelia’s.
So that was it. Amelia had given Kristen a hard time about moving the lab equipment because she couldn’t get through to him?
Clive pressed his fingers to his temples, a headache starting to build.
“Cameron’s throwing something together tonight—lots of people from the circle, second-gen rich types, you know. Come out, have some fun,” Michael said, his voice still on the line.
Clive didn’t even hesitate. “Sounds good. What time, where?”
He honestly needed a break.
Plus, Cameron hardly ever hosted anything himself. With the Henson family’s reputation, whenever he did, pretty much everyone with a name showed up.
“Eight o’clock. The Hollow Beat.”
***
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