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“Are you kiddin’ me? I’m happy as a clam!” I swivel artfully to avoid stepping over a tiny Chihuahua rushing alongside its owner, lying through my teeth.
“Lucas, the director, was so impressed with your performance. He called it electric. They should get back to me with the schedule and contract in the next few days.” There is a pause. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m all about business today. Would you like me to come over tonight? We can Hallmark and chill.”
Chrissy and I both like our movies the same way we like our pizza—with extra cheese and cheap red wine on the side. Normally, I’d be all over the offer. But today, I’d like to be alone. This new job symbolizes my return to the outside world. I need to digest it all.
“I think I’ll have a quiet one in tonight, if you don’t mind.” I smile, out of habit, to people on the street as I make my journey to my apartment block. They never smile back, not in this zip code, but it’s a force of habit I find hard to break.
“You got it, Win. Just wanted to put the offer out there. Enjoy your night.”
I kill the call and scroll through my phone to keep my mind busy. I have one unread message from Pablo.
Hey, sorry I missed your call again. I’m available if you want to talk.
It was sent at four thirty in the morning.
Pablo has been avoiding me for the past eight months. So does the rest of the staff of Silver Arrow Capital. Chip, Dahlia from HR, and Phil, Paul’s best friend. They’ve all been cagey about what they know—or don’t know—regarding Paul and Grace’s relationship. I still have no clue what my husband and that woman were doing together that day when their lives ended.
It’s easy to speculate Paul and Grace had an affair, but something in me refuses to believe he’d so callously betray me.
Paul wasn’t an angel, but he wasn’t a villain either. Besides, he loved me—I know he did. And he’d never indicated Grace was someone he even liked. On the contrary. Many times I found myself chiding him when he accused her of being self-centered and high maintenance when he returned home from work.
Never met a bigger headache in my life. That Corbin guy must be a glutton for punishment. All she does is whine and make demands.
Over the last few months, I’ve been trying to piece together the reason why Paul got on that flight with Grace. Did he truly give her a ride? Or was this salacious? I think back to our conversations, go through his things in our apartment trying to spot clues.
I haven’t found any evidence of an affair so far. Nothing to raise my suspicion. Everything he owned and kept close was so innocent. Photo albums, knickknacks, his stamp collection, signed baseball tees.
Sometimes I toy with the idea of calling that pompous creature Arsène Corbin. I bet he holds all the answers to my questions. For all his many glaring faults, he seems like a resourceful man. The kind who is quick to play catch-up.
I have no doubt he found out everything there is to know about the circumstances that led Grace and Paul to be on the same plane that claimed their lives.
But I can’t bring myself to ask him for a favor. Now, if he were the one to approach me, that’d be a whole different ballgame. Wouldn’t that be somethin’?
A dull pain thuds behind my forehead. I stop scrolling and call Ma. Rita Towles always manages to lift my spirits, even when they’re in the dumpster.
“Sugar plum!” she yelps in delight. “Your daddy and I were just talking about you. He’s right here beside me. Were your ears burnin’? He asked if I remembered the time you tried to walk in my heels when you were a kid and broke your ankle. ’Course I remember. I was the one to drive you all the way to the hospital while you were screamin’ to the high heavens.”
I still have a little scar on my ankle to show for that.
“It was a lesson well learned. Never wore heels again,” I say with a wistful smile.
“Other than on your wedding day,” she reminds me. My mood wilts again. All roads always lead to Paul.
“They were platforms, not heels, Ma. And I only wore them for the membership.”
Paul and I had married in my local church in Mulberry Creek. We buried a bottle of bourbon upside down at the wedding venue and danced into the night, barefoot. When he whisked me off to my dream honeymoon in Thailand, I got on the plane in pj’s he’d packed and bought for me ahead of time, my feet still muddy from the wedding. He rubbed them in his lap until I fell asleep on the long flight. It was just another way Paul was amazing. Considerate and always thoughtful.
