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“I agree,” she said. “Now’s your chance to play the chauffeur.”
We all laughed together, before Johann gestured for Natalie to get into the back seat, closing the door behind her before entering the back seat from the other side.
“She’s lovely,” he said to me quietly, before slipping into his seat. “Lovely.”
I opened the driver’s door, but as I did I noticed a reflection on the window. Someone was staring at me. I turned quickly; there were two people—a man and a woman—looking at the car, whispering to one another. But once they registered that I was looking at them, they abruptly began walking away, looking back at me not-so-subtly a few seconds later. I scanned the vicinity with my eyes; two other people were staring at me—or at the car, I couldn’t say for sure—until, noticing me noticing them, they also absconded.
“What’s the hold-up?” called Johann from the back seat.
“Nothing,” I replied quickly, before slipping into the driver’s seat. And then I set the car into motion, all the while convincing myself I’d imagined the whole thing.
15
Rumor Has It
Natalie
On Sunday morning, I woke up in a pleasant mood. Lucas had introduced me to Johann, an art dealer friend of his, the day before, and things had gone swimmingly. Johann insisted he adored my work, and while he didn’t want to make any promises, he was fairly certain he had a client in mind who owned a gallery in Manhattan and had exhibited similar pieces in the past. Lucas had volunteered his house for this encounter, which was somehow even grander and more lavish than I remembered his penthouse in Los Angeles was, where I’d left him all those years ago. His generosity seemed so boundless—I noticed, even from the way he had arranged the meeting with Johann, that he understood I would not ask him for help, and yet he had conspired to help, nonetheless.
And so, in this pleasant mood, I made my way to work, doing a little dance in the kitchen with Sophie as she ate her oatmeal.
“I’ll see you after work, sweetheart,” I said. “Keep Grandma and Grandpa company, okay? I love you.”
“Okay! I love you too, Mommy!” Sophie yelled back, and I stepped out the door with a heart so full I thought it would burst. Despite it all, everything was turning out alright.
Or so I’d thought.
When I got to the hospital, Gretchen sat up in her seat. “Natalie!” she called out.
“Hey, Gretch. What’s up?” Gretchen and I weren’t especially close, but we chatted here and there; she only ever demanded my attention like this when she wanted to gossip.
“I should ask you the same thing!” she said, struggling to subdue a grin. Then, when she noticed the look of confusion spread across my face, she said, “Oh, come on, you know what I’m talking about.”
“I really don’t,” I responded. “Why, did something happen?”
“You tell me!” Then she realized my expression was no less confused. “I’m talking about you getting in a car with Lucas Mendosa.”
I almost choked; I was mortified. I hadn’t even known Lucas’s last name. “How do you…” I started.
“Oh, honey, it’s all anyone’s been talking about since yesterday. Kimberly saw the two of you, plus some other guy, getting into his car downtown. Then Kimberly told Anastasia, and, well, you know how Anastasia is…”
I did. Anastasia gossiped like it was a full-time job, and she was working overtime.
“Anyway,” Gretchen continued, when I didn’t answer. “I heard from Stephanie this morning, in the break room.”
“Gretchen,” I said, still in shock, “I don’t understand. Yeah, I was with Lucas, but why does everybody care so much?”
Gretchen laughed. “You’re kidding, right?” Then, when she realized I wasn’t kidding, her facial expression shifted. “Lucas Mendosa… as in, Mendosa Enterprises… the major real estate corporation? Nothing? I’ll put it this way, since his dad died, he’s the richest man in Minnesota. Hell, he’s one of the richest men in thecountry.”
I was at a total loss for words. I had known Lucas was rich, and that his money was likely inherited, but this was unlike anything I had ever imagined. And not only that, but everyone else in town, everyone but me, already knew?
“Now, personally, I’m all for you securing the bag,” Gretchen continued, and for a brief moment I appreciated her lack of self-awareness. “I’ll tell you right now, though, a lot of the girls aren’t happy with you.”
This compelled me to speak. “Excuse me? Aren’t happy about what?” It came out more aggressively than I had anticipated.
Gretchen retreated, as if afraid I might hit her. “It’s just that… well, like I said, he has a lot of money, and some people—I won’t name any names, even I know how far is too far—but some people are wondering, you know… what you had to do to get it.” She exhaled. “And there are some theories.”
“Theories?” I exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that we were in the reception room of a hospital. An old man looked up with genuine concern. I waved awkwardly at him, and he nodded before looking back down at his magazine.
