Caitlin made a tiny snort. “I wonder if it’s easier when you know it’s coming. Something like cancer. When you have some time to settle things. To say goodbye. What do you think?”
How the hell was she supposed to respond to this?
“I think it would be,” she said. “I wish I’d…” She took another sip of wine, trying to figure out what to say. She didn’t exactly want to confess all to this woman she didn’t know, whose own tragedy made hers look small by comparison.
But Caitlin had opened the door. She obviously wanted to talk about it. Wanted to hear Michelle’s story.
Maybe she was tired of telling her own.
“My husband left a lot of loose ends,” Michelle finally said. “It was… it was a real mess. His business… well, things were really bad. He made a lot of mistakes. And all I can think of was… that he was too embarrassed to tell me about it.” Her turn for a minimal shrug. “I wish I’d known. I wish we’d had a chance to talk about it. Not because I could have fixed it for him, just so that…”
She didn’t have to fake the wave of emotion that closed her throat. “After he died, I finally just took off,” she said. “Left the mess behind and traveled for a while. It wasn’t the most mature thing to do, I guess.” She looked up. Met Caitlin’s eyes. Her somewhat distant gaze. “But now it’s time for me to be a grownup. To get to work.” She smiled.
“So here you are.”
“If you think it’s a good fit. This is about what you need.”
Caitlin poured herself more wine. “Well, I need someone to keep me on track, basically. Manage my appointments. Book my travel. Make sure I get places on time. Tell me who it is I’m seeing and why they’re important. There’ll be some event planning involved, most likely.”
All work that Michelle had done before, during her ten-year marriage to Tom (all those parties and fundraisers), her stint as “associate director” of the photo gallery before that (when a wealthy collector or artist came in the door, you’d better know who it was), the clerical and admin jobs she’d had during and just after college.
She nodded. “Those are things I have experience doing.”
“Also…” Caitlin hesitated. “I don’t know how you’d feel about this.” She chuckled in a way that sounded almost embarrassed. “Porter tells me you… well, that you like going to the gym and doing yoga and that sort of thing.” She waited for Michelle’s nod. “I guess I could use more of that. Everyone tells me I should. I just haven’t… I’m not very motivated, I guess. And it’s tough with my schedule, sometimes.”
“Well, I’m not a trainer, or anything. But if you want a workout partner, I’d be happy to do that. It would help keep me on track too.”
Nothing you can’t handle.
“Good.” Caitlin smiled. Her eyes seemed to brighten. “There’s times when you know you should make some changes. You just need a little push.”
“You and Caitlin seemed to be having a nice sit-down,” Porter said, as they walked down the drive to his Escalade.
“I hope so. I really enjoyed meeting her.”
According to Gary, she already had this job. Porter had acted as though she’d needed to at least pass the test with Caitlin. Michelle thought that she’d passed, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Where can I drop you?” Porter asked.
Michelle hesitated.
She assumed that Porter knew Gary. That it had been Gary’s “recommendation” that had gotten her this far. But there could be a layer between Gary and Porter for all she knew.
Better to not make the assumption, at least not yet.
“I guess that depends,” she said. “If you think I’m a good match for the position, then how about the Galleria?”
“The Galleria?”
“I’ll need some new clothes for this weather.” She smiled at him. “If not, my hotel’s fine.”
Porter grinned back. It might have been sincere. “Well, I’ll have to run it by Caitlin first. But why don’t I go ahead and take you to the Galleria? You can try on a few things. See what you think about the fit.”
Chapter Seven
She bought a couple of pieces at Neiman Marcus: a fitted shirtdress and a jacket by Burberry Brit, two simple silk tees from Eileen Fisher and two pairs of Stella McCartney slacks. A black leather Cole Haan tote with a padded laptop pocket. Things that were stylish but not flashy. She’d need another suit, but she wasn’t going to spend that kind of money until she knew she’d gotten the job.
After that she stopped at the Best Buy and bought a new burner phone, just in case. Then treated herself to dinner at a “Contemporary American” restaurant close to the Galleria that had gotten a lot of good reviews: “pan-seared wild king salmon in red cherry barbeque sauce, with heirloom baby potatoes and broccolini drizzled with truffled lemon butter,” paired with a Washington pinot noir.
By the time she got back to the hotel, it was close to 9 p.m. She smiled at the friendly desk clerks, took the elevator to her floor, unlocked the door to her room with the card key, hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door. Tossed the bags of clothes on a chair. Kicked off her shoes, shed her Armani suit, hung it in the closet.
She put on a baggy T-shirt and fell back onto the bed.
This is insane, she thought. Danny is in jail, someone hurt him, and I’m eating truffled broccolini.
Her iPhone rang. The Get Smart theme. Fucking Gary.
“Hey, there. You do some shopping?”
“Yeah, Gary.” She felt exhausted. “I did some shopping.”
“Good. Looks like you’ll need the wardrobe. I gather you made a good impression.”
“You talked to Porter?”
He chuckled. “Now, did I say that?”
“So, you talked to someone else? Why don’t you give me a hint?” The rush of adrenaline lifted her up on her elbows. “You don’t tell me things I need to know. Do you want me to fuck up? Is that it? Because I’ve thought a lot about what happened in Mexico. And the way it seems to me is, you don’t really care one way or the other.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“Of course I care,” he finally said. “Mexico was different.”
“Different, how?”
“Well… in that situation, there were a couple of scenarios I would’ve considered a success.” A snort. “Not the one that ended up happening, as it turned out.”
“Such as?”
“If you’d gotten good intel on Danny and what he was up to? That would’ve been great. If you’d… served as a reminder to him? You know, of what his situation was? That would’ve been useful too.”
Don’t scream, she told herself. Don’t lose it.
“Oh, you mean that someone who was fucking him might be spying on him? That situation? Is that what you’re getting at?”
“That, and what happens to people who don’t do what they’re told.”
He sounded very calm.
There it was, the threat. And the admission. That he’d tried to have her killed.
Of course, she’d already known that.
Gary’s sigh rattled the speaker of her iPhone. “Look, try to see it from my point of view. I didn’t know you back then. But I’ve moved beyond that, Michelle. I really have. Now I know you’re too valuable an asset to burn that way this time out.”
She laughed. This was all such bullshit. “You’re blackmailing me into this. Just like you did before.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” He sounded so calm she could almost believe that he wasn’t a crazy man who’d once tried to kill her. “See, you could’ve walked away from this if you’d wanted to. This is about saving Danny’s hide. Not your own. Still surprises me, to be honest.”
“And you wouldn’t have tried something else if Danny hadn’t worked? Threatened my family? Implicated me in my husband’s scam, maybe?”