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Giana took us into a kitchen. It was the size of the whole house it seemed, with pristine granite counters and a huge table. A man sat at the head with a laptop open, wearing a button-down shirt, and looking much cleaner and more put together than all the others in the front room. He glanced up, smiled at Giana, kissed her when she dipped won toward him, then gazed at Rees.
“Hello, Linus,” Rees said. “I’m surprised you could make the trip out here.”
Linus slowly shut the laptop. He was handsome, though he had thinning hair and a dark five o’clock shadow. He wore business casual clothes, cut to fit him skin tight. Giana sat down next to him, folding her legs under her, and looked up expectantly at Rees, who didn’t move to sit, and lingered at the head of the table. I stood next to him, hanging back slightly, not sure if I belonged in this moment. It felt too intimate, and I was like an interloper in this strange, messed up relationship.
“Giana said you’d show up,” he said, with a heavy Italian accent. “I say to her, I doubt it. He’s smarter than that.”
“I assume she also told you what Desmond did,” Rees said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He produced a copy of the letter and held it up in the air.
“Ah, the letter.” Linus held a hand out. Rees tossed it to him, and the pages fluttered in the air before hitting the table and sliding over. Linus picked them up, lips pinching together as he read. Giana leaned over onto his shoulder and skimmed along.
“It’s real,” Rees said. “Jack can back it up. Millie can, too.”
Linus glanced toward me. “And you are?”
“His assistant,” I said. “And he’s not lying. It’s real.”
“You have no reason to lie,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he finished the letter. The music downstairs finished, and I looked around the room again: the cupboards were white and the refrigerator was stainless steel. A bad door led out onto a large, open yard, with another porch.
“You know how things are with me and Desmond,” Rees said. “He’s hated me for a long time. I think this is part of his end game.”
“End game for what?” Linus asked, tossing the pages down. “For ruining you? No need to drag me and my wife down as well.”
“I’m not sure he cares about that,” Rees said. “You were both useful to him. The media loves stories about Giana, especially stories that involved young, rich men like me.”
“Ah, because my wife loves young, rich men, yes?” Linus leaned against Giana and kissed her cheek. “Is that true, love?”
“I’ll admit, I have a thing for money,” she said, and laughed when he kissed her again and pinched her leg. She pushed him away then stood. “You know there is nothing between me and Rees, darling. I’ve been telling you for weeks now.”
“Yes, yes, I know this,” he said, waving it away like it was meaningless. “And yet rumors persist. It looks bad for me, yes? I am a politician. These things matter.”
“I’ll clear it up,” Rees said. “I came down here out of respect for you and Giana, and I swear I’ll make sure it goes away.”
“I bet you will,” Linus said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Sometimes, I think to myself, Rees is a good man. But other times, I think, he is a scary man with too much money. Which are you?”
“Both,” Rees said, holding Linus’s gaze.
There was a long, tense moment. I looked at Rees and tried to picture the versions of him that Linus mentioned: the good man, trying to do right by his friend Giana, and the terrifying man with nearly infinite resources. I could see them both, but also so much more than that.
“Well then, why don’t you sit down, and we will hammer out how we will fix this, okay?” Linus gestured at the chair in front of Rees. “Sit and we will talk. Patch things up, as you Americans say.”
Rees glanced at me, then pulled out the chair. I went to sit, but Giana leapt up and walked over to me. “I’m going to borrow this one. Have some girl time.”
I blinked at her, but before I could argue, she had her arm through mine, and was tugging me to the back door. Rees didn’t seem to care, too busy staring down Linus, who wsa too busy staring right back. They were having a dick measuring contest, and Giana was right, I didn’t need to be present for that.
Although I was a little curious which was bigger.
Giana took me out the back door. She sat on a swinging bench and stretched her back as she lit another cigarette. She offered me one, but I turned it down, and sat in a chair, legs curled under me.
