“Forever,” I say, more sharply than I mean to. Then I soften it. “Or close enough. We met in college. We were like sisters.”
“Oh.” She nods and looks down into her glass.
“It is a little strange,” I continue, because I can’t help myself, “you being here when you didn’t know her.”
Her eyes widen immediately. “Oh—I was already with Phillip this morning, helping him with some business things, and he said it wouldn’t be a big deal if I came.”
“Of course it’s not a big deal,” I say with a smile so polished it almost hurts. “It’s just interesting, given that he only agreed to this memorial if we kept it very small. ‘Closest friends only,’ he said.”
She doesn’t answer, but I can see the discomfort settling over her now, the first real crack in the glossy politeness. Good.
“So do you work through an agency?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I used to work at the coffee shop across from his office. That’s how we met. He came in every morning and ordered the same drip coffee, and one day we just… started talking.”
“Just started talking,” I repeat, letting the phrase linger between us.
“Yeah.” Her voice trails off as her eyes dart across the pool to Phillip. He’s already watching us. When their gazes meet, he lifts one eyebrow, subtle but unmistakable.
I keep my expression soft. “Have you been an executive assistant before?”
She hesitates. “No.”
“That didn’t strike you as odd?” I ask. “A man like Phillip hiring someone with no experience?”
Her fingers tighten slightly around the stem of herchampagne glass. “I guess I just thought it was an opportunity. Working in customer service is hard.”
“I’m sure it is. Then again, so is being the executive assistant to a multimillion-dollar businessman.”
She gives me a bright little grin that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I like a challenge.”
“I’m sure you do.” I let my gaze rest on her for just a moment longer. “Have you been spending a lot of time at Whitney’s house?”
“Phillip mostly works from home,” she says. “The office in Tigertail Village is more of a… satellite thing.”
I tilt my head. “Is that what he told you?”
Her confidence falters. “Yes.”
“That’s interesting,” I say. “This is the first I’m hearing about an office in the village. I wonder if Whitney even knew.”
Chrissy says nothing to that. She looks young suddenly, not just in age but in instinct, like someone who wandered into deep water and is only now realizing she can’t touch the bottom.
I’m on the verge of inviting her to brunch, of throwing out a line and seeing whether she’ll take it, when Phillip appears beside her again, his smile thin and clearly forced.
“How are you two girls getting along?”
I hate that he calls us girls, hate that he thinks the word softens anything, but I let it pass.
“Chrissy is lovely,” I say smoothly. “I was just asking if she might want to join me for brunch sometime this weekend.”
Phillip cuts in before she can answer. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. We’ve both been so busy with?—”
“I understand,” I say, slicing cleanly through whatever lie he was about to build. “Let me know when your schedule opens up, Chrissy. I’m always here if you need a friend.”
The last part is deliberate, laid on thicker than necessary, but this woman clearly has access to parts of Phillip’s life I don’t.If I’m going to figure out what happened to Whitney, I may need Phillip’s little blonde accessory to trust me first.
Chrissy smiles, relief returning to her face now that the conversation is drifting away from dangerous ground. “Thank you for putting all of this together,” she says. “Phillip has been so distraught, and between the paperwork and everything else…”
