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“He’ll think you’re finally putting your college education to good use instead of just your palate.” Andrea waved her fork toward his fifty-dollar glass of wine, and the one-hundred-and-eighty-dollar Kobe beef tartare.
Malcolm could not believe what he was hearing. He hung his head in disbelief.
“End of discussion, dear,” Andrea said. Then she raised her glass. “Cheers!”
Chapter Eight
New York City
Zoe spent most of the train ride scrolling through email on her tablet. If someone was keeping track of her digital footprint, it would be quite normal for her to be working on a Sunday. Or any day. Anytime. In fact, if she hadn’t accessed her company email account in longer than twenty-hours hours, someone would question why. For all intents and purposes Zoe was a workaholic. Her one exception was Mason Chapman. He was the only distraction she had allowed herself in recent years. She’d thought about visiting him. Many times. But she wanted to keep her fantasies alive, rather than quash them with the reality that he had lost interest. She heard Izzie’s voice in her head: Don’t be a jerk. You don’t want to live with any regrets. Izzie had said this the night before as they were sharing their hot toddies.
Zoe blinked several times. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours ago and yet it seemed like ages. As they began to enter the tunnel, the conductor announced, “Next stop: New York, Penn Station. New York, Penn Station. Next stop. Please remember to take all your belongings. New York.”
Zoe gathered her overnight bag and tote and put on her identifying coat. She moved toward the café car and stood behind the anxious travelers waiting to disembark. As she stepped off the train, she purposely did not look around. Act normal, she told herself. She moved with the throng of people along the platform, careful not to get too close to the tracks. The group slowed as they approached the stairs, while people fumbled with their suitcases, baby carriages, and shopping bags from an assortment of retailers. Zoe tried to avoid touching the handrails—something she’d never thought about before COVID. When you lived in the city, you tended to ignore the grime. It was the least of your worries. Now, pretty much everything invoked angst.
Zoe caught a glimpse of a woman about her own age and height moving with agility. She wondered if that was Sasha. She resisted the temptation to look again, but then the woman caught Zoe’s eye. It was a fleeting moment, but Zoe immediately understood the woman to be Sasha. How? She wasn’t sure. Was she merely imagining the communication? One thing was certain—she felt confident. She knew a group of people had her back.
When she exited the station she stood in the taxi queue. Zoe noticed the woman she had spotted a few minutes before walking toward a private car, but she paused before she got inside. When it was Zoe’s turn for the next taxi, the other woman got into the private car, which pulled out and got behind Zoe’s cab. The town car followed the taxi to Zoe’s apartment and pulled over a few feet ahead of them. Zoe noticed the rear passenger window roll down as the woman pulled out a mirror and pretended to reapply lipstick. The woman continued to watch Zoe in her mirror until she entered her apartment building.
Zoe got a thrill knowing she was being covered. She was greeted by the doorman who had been charged with feeding her cats.
“Hello, Carlton. How’s it going? How are my babies?”
“Good evening, Ms. Danfield. All’s well around here. Your fur babies are just fine. Fed them about an hour ago.”
“Thanks very much.” Zoe handed him a fifty-dollar bill.
“You are too kind,” the elderly gentleman responded.
“You are worth every penny.” Zoe smiled, thinking Carlton must have been guarding that building for decades.
As Zoe thanked her doorman, from her half-hidden position across the street, Sasha sent an update to Avery, who relayed it to Charles: Unknown Woman in black town car NY Plate LIB122 followed mark from Penn to apt.
* * *
Charles read the message from Sasha and then relayed it to Myra. “Right. Sasha is on the job and confirmed that someone else is also following Zoe.”
“But how did that other woman know Zoe’s arrival time?” Myra mused.
“Perhaps her itinerary was somewhere that was easily found?” Charles pondered.
“I’ll call Izzie and have her call Zoe. Until Zoe gets the burner phone, conversations are going to be cryptic,” Myra said. She picked up the landline and pushed the speed dial button for Izzie.
“Myra? Everything okay?” Izzie asked with a bit of trepidation.
“Not exactly. Sasha spotted the other person who has been tailing Zoe. But the question is, Who knew Zoe’s schedule and which train she would be on?”
“Good question.” Izzie’s brow furrowed. “I’ll call her and have a casual conversation. Stand by.” Izzie immediately ended her call with Myra and dialed Zoe’s number.
“Izzie! I was just about to call you! Thanks so much for your great hospitality,” Zoe said into the phone.
“A pleasure.” Before Zoe left, Izzie had instructed her to be careful about what she said on her phone. It could be tapped. Their cue word for being secretive was Rufus. “Rufus and I were just sitting around, and I thought I’d check to see how your train ride was,” Izzie said carefully.
“No issues. Right on time.” Zoe cringed a bit, wondering what Izzie was about to communicate.
“I was thinking about hiring a personal assistant. Tell me, does yours do all your travel arrangements?”
“Yes. Kyle is right on top of things.”
