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“I can’t see anyone dumping you in the middle of dinner.”
“You can be the first.”
I looked into his eyes, and he was only partially joking. Those eyes promised something, something I couldn’t readily name. That promise was both scary and inviting. Was I brave enough to go for it?
“New Year’s Eve,” I said. “If I need to, I can arrange for the babysitter to call with an Emily emergency.”
“If you’re not there when the clock strikes twelve, I will be terribly disappointed.”
I felt the heat rise in my body. Dang, if he didn’t always say the right thing, the sexy thing, the thing that turned my mind to mush.
“You’re not the only one who will be disappointed,” I said.
He chuckled. “I was hoping you would say that.” With a little wave, he headed for the door. “I can see myself out. I'd appreciate it if you would look into the Tyra thing.”
“I’ll get started.”
I didn’t chase him. He could let himself out. I didn’t want to appear too eager. I knew that my body responded to him. I knew that he was incredibly dangerous. I wondered if I could trust myself with him when he turned on that vampire charm. In a way, I wanted to experience that mystique. In another way, I was nervous that I could never match his intensity. Did I really need to try?
Yes.
I turned to my computer. I needed to know more about Tyra Green. The Internet was the place to start.
Tyra loved social media. Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, and Instagram. Her selfies and comments covered the waterfront. She commented on current events, recent history, political history, and even ancient history. While she sided with major media and government agencies for the most part, she generally left herself an escape hatch if she needed one. She sided with scientists and popular opinions for the most part. If she had been fooled by someone, she wouldn’t be the only one. There was safety in numbers. At the same time, she made herself appear to be leading various parades. She was on the edge of societal evolution and revolution. How true was that? I couldn’t really tell. She was like a chameleon, changing her colors as needed.
The company records weren’t any more revealing. Her evaluations praised her work ethic and intelligence. Her promotions came in order and more quickly than for other corporate stars. She had moved several times; mobility was a plus in management circles. As far as the companies were concerned, she had not made any significant errors of judgment or execution. An ideal employee on her way to the top. I had little doubt that she would become a CEO before long. She had learned how to navigate through the fickle currents and eddies of the modern organization. I was impressed.
I changed over to her personal life, a side that was much more difficult to find and peruse. She was pretty. There was no confusion there. Tall, thin, with skin the color of toffee and just as smooth, dark eyes, red lips, and hair styled short and close, she could have been a model. Maybe she was in her youth. I didn’t find any modeling photos, but that meant nothing. Several videos featured her speaking. Her voice was firm, her enunciation perfect. I suspected she had attended some sort of finishing school, a place where the emphasis was placed on speaking well. As far as I could tell, she didn’t use a teleprompter or cards. When she took questions, she disarmed anyone who wanted to start an argument. She must have been a terrific debater. No wonder she was rising so fast.
Had she taken acting lessons?
That was a good question, one I couldn’t answer.
She had married once. Her son still lived with her. He was a gifted athlete, a football player. The divorce had not raised a ruckus. Her ex had moved on and, in general, had nothing back to say about her. That was revealing. Was she a manipulator? I found it hard to believe that she wasn’t. She had to have enemies. Everyone did. Yet, I couldn’t find any. I told myself I needed to dig deeper. That would have to wait. I needed to fix dinner. Stew sounded hearty on a cold evening in Chicago. I was stirring when Emily plopped at the table.
“School tomorrow,” I said.
“Do I have to?”
“I believe tomorrow is winter celebration day at school.”
“Santa Claus?”
“No, but I think someone will pass out gifts. And there will be cookies and games. You like games.”
“I’m good at games. OK, I’ll go.”
“Sounds like a plan. Also, I have an after-work event to attend. A winter celebration for adults.”
“Will Marcie babysit?”
“I believe she will.”
Emily smiled. “Good. I like Marcie.”
“We all do. Now, be a good girl and set the table.”
Emily headed to the cabinets and pulled out our favorite bowls.
