“Was one of them a fat guy, face like a bulldog?”
Seeming to be offended by the description, she said, “He was…heavyset. Not a handsome man.”
“Not handsome and nice like Agent Easton.”
She didn’t say anything to that, only looked at him with unblinking eyes.
He asked, “What about the third man?”
“I don’t remember him very well.”
Gif Lewis, Rudkowski thought. That guy faded into the woodwork. Rudkowski worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Easton used a credit card?”
She answered with a curt nod. “He reviewed the bill to make certain I had added the minibar charges. Plus the cake.”
“Cake?”
“He called down and asked me to have room service deliver—”
“Cake?”
“Yes.”
No more “sir,” he noticed. Not that he cared about her opinion of him, but he added a bit of saccharine to his next question, because it was the most important one. “Ms. Li, after settling the bill with the additional charges, did Easton happen to tell you where he was going from here? Did he make a reservation at one of your chain’s other hotels?”
“No. But he left something for you.”
“For me?”
“That’s what I was trying to ask you at the start before you interrupted. I was about to ask if you had come to pick up the envelope. Mr. Easton said that you might be coming by for it within a few days. Honestly, I was about to give up on you. Wait just a moment, please.”
She disappeared into an office and returned shortly with a letter-size envelope. “Here you are.”
He plucked it from her hand. “Thanks.”
“I’ve already been thanked. By Mr. Easton. I was happy to provide the service for him.” She turned her back on him and went back into the office.
Rudkowski stalked across the lobby and through the double doors, waiting until he was outside to rip open the envelope and pull out the single sheet of hotel stationery. In the center of it was printed: Hey there, Rudkowski. Kiss my ass.
Chapter 12
Stroking her cheek to remove the speck of chocolate icing had been one thing. Licking it off his thumb had been another. If Drex had stopped at the former, and hadn’t done the latter, she would have forgotten the incident by now. Probably. Maybe. But because he had done it, she was still thinking about it two days later. With each replay of the scene in her mind, the scintillation was magnified. As was her unease over it.
Because it hadn’t been a reflexive action that could be laughed off. He hadn’t noisily smacked his lips or wisecracked about her chocolate addiction. It wasn’t wittiness that had simmered in his eyes as they’d held her gaze. Nothing like that.
No, licking it off his thumb had been provocative. Which compelled her to report it to Jasper.
But she hadn’t.
She hadn’t told him later that afternoon when he returned from the country club, or during their dinner out that evening, or when they’d come home to find that Drex had brought back their fan, along with a note regarding tonight’s reservation.
On any of those occasions she could have mentioned the incident to Jasper in an offhanded manner, made light of it, and given it no significance. But she hadn’t slipped it into a conversation, and now too much time had passed, during which it had acquired significance.
Of late, there had been a mounting tension between Jasper and her, made even worse because neither of them acknowledged it. Telling him about the incident with Drex might force them to expose problems within the marriage, which, to this point, neither had been willing to do.
In any case, telling Jasper about it now would feel like a confession. He would want to know why she was just now getting around to informing him of it when they were an hour away from joining the man for a double date. She didn’t want to get into anything with him just before leaving for their evening out.
As predicted, Elaine was as giddy as a coed who’d been invited to the prom by the varsity captain. She’d called Talia within minutes of Drex’s inviting her and had recounted word for word all he’d said, speaking as though every sentence ended in a pair of exclamation marks. Over the course of the past two days, she had called Talia no fewer than a dozen times in a dither over what she should wear tonight.
Meanwhile, Talia hadn’t seen or heard from Drex since leaving him on his doorstep. Without taking time even to say goodbye, she’d gotten the hell out of there. Several times, she had noticed that his car wasn’t in the driveway, but hadn’t caught sight of him leaving or returning. When she casually asked Jasper if he’d crossed paths with him, he’d said with disinterest, “No.”
Now, soaking in a bubble bath, chin-deep in scented suds, Talia wondered if Drex shared her disquiet over the incident. If he had dwelled on those few moments as much as she had, he might regret what he’d done and could well be embarrassed when he saw her tonight. Would it make for an awkward situation?
No. There wouldn’t be any awkwardness because she wouldn’t allow there to be. She would treat him as she had before: friendly, but with boundaries clearly drawn.
She was probably making far too much out of it anyway.
Having resolved that, she climbed out of the tub and proceeded to dress for the evening. She and Jasper had offered to pick up Elaine at seven. At fifteen minutes to, Talia checked her reflection in the mirror one last time, picked up her handbag, and, as she emerged from her dressing room, called to Jasper, “I’m ready.”
Elaine lived in a classy community of townhouses, Georgian in design, which afforded owners ample and pricey square footage, but zero lot lines. Talia parked at the curb and went up the walkway connecting the sidewalk to Elaine’s front door, which was made private from the street by an iron picket fence lined with shrubbery.
Within seconds of Talia’s ringing the bell, Elaine opened the door and exclaimed, “Oh my God, you look stunning!”
“Thank you. So do you.”
“It’s new.” Elaine pinched up the full skirt of her dress and curtsied.
“It’s lovely.”
“I can’t do slinky anymore,” she said wistfully, eyeing Talia up and down. “Is Jasper parking the car? Come in, come in so the mosquitoes don’t eat us alive. Drex, will you please tend bar?”
Talia drew up short just as she stepped across the threshold and spotted him lounging on the sofa. A great cat, having feasted on a fresh kill and lazing in the sun, couldn’t have appeared more satiated and indolent as he unfolded himself and stood up. “Hello, Talia.”
He was wearing dress slacks and a necktie, but the tie had been loosened, his collar button undone. She hadn’t yet braced herself to look him in the eye for the first time since last she saw him and was so taken off guard to find him here that the first words out of her mouth sounded like an accusation. “I thought you were meeting us at the restaurant.”
“He called and asked if he could come by early,” Elaine said. “And look what he brought me!” She pointed to the coffee table on which lay a rubber-banded manuscript.
“He had a copy made and asked me to read it and give him an honest assessment, which I swore I would do.”