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We’re welcomed into the sophisticated soft gray interior and seated in the slightly secluded back alcove of the intimate space. I look out the long open view to the large windows facing Clark Street. A vision of a face pressed against the droplet-dappled glass proves to be a trick of the light. Not knowing when or where Sam might pop up gives me jitters. I want to pack Micki into my suitcase and take her with me to London. The two weeks before we meet again in Paris will be hell.
Cress leans forward and looks narrowly at my girl. “What happened today, Micki?”
“I learned that tutoring is amazing.” Her smile is so bright I can’t help wondering what she’s covering up.
“The meeting?”
Micki gives a comme ci, comme ça gesture, then changes the subject. “Are you still planning to buy a new place in London, Max?”
“If we have time to look. Ian spends so much time out of the country, he’s happy to put our Clerkenwell house on the market.”
Micki taps one long, red fingernail on the table. “That’s your older brother?”
“Yeah, the annoying one.” Max’s tone is light, with a slight hint of irritation. Mostly good-natured bantering and a bit of one-upmanship seems to be their MO. Ian’s the temporary British consul in Chicago and is flying to London with us. I look forward to his stories of the trials of being the representative of every British person in the area.
“Ian has been dealing with the fallout of a British teenager accused of vandalism. He’s a minor and his father took him home before the police could arrest him. Ian’s the negotiator for having him sent back to stand trial. The whole thing’s a tangle because his mum is a consulate employee and claims diplomatic immunity, but the kid’s not eligible. Not sure he’ll sort it out before we leave for London.”
While Max, Cress, and I delight in Brindille’s French delicacies, Micki moodily stirs her soup but only has a spoonful and pokes at the salad. Even her favorite entrée, lacquered duck, doesn’t tempt her. When she refuses dessert, Cress presses her.
“At least share the clafoutis with me.”
“Sorry. Not hungry. JL plied me with a huge piece of Portillo’s chocolate cake not that long ago.”
By now we’re finished with the meal. Over coffee, I take Micki’s hand. “Ma chouette, you didn’t say how the client meeting went.”
Her eyes flash with something I can’t read. Anger? Frustration? “I told you it was okay. Nothing else to say.”
Cress frowns. “Was this just another preliminary thing with the client?”
“Hayden and I told Greenberg what kinds of access we need to people and files. He wasn’t happy. Kind of strange for someone who says he has nothing to hide.” She shrugs. “Then he went off to play golf.”
On that note, we leave the restaurant. Two GSU vehicles idle at the curb. Sean sees us and pops the door locks. Max and Cress take the second one.
Atmosphere like a heavy fog rolling in from the lake constricts my chest and makes breathing difficult. I try to catch Micki’s eye, but she’s looking away. Her face is like marble, the sorrowing Madonna of Michelangelo’sPietà.When we’re at her place, maybe I can coax her to talk about whatever is weighing on her soul.
We pull up to the building and she climbs out before I can move around to help her down.
“Go home, JL.”
“Can’t. I’m tonight’s bodyguard, and I’ll drop you at work in the morning.”
Sean has opened the trunk and hands JL a gym bag.
“See you at the office tomorrow, Sean.”
He gets back into the driver’s seat, produces a small wave, and takes off at speed.
“Need to discuss that with him,” I mutter.
Once upstairs, I make myself at home in the living room, ready to worm the truth out of her.
ChapterEight
The absence of old friends one can endure with equanimity. But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one has just been introduced is almost unbearable.—Oscar Wilde
Micki
A glaringly brightSunday morning crashes my eyelids way before I’m ready to get up. Last night, Cress and Max had dinner for his coworkers—and me. I was there as Cress’ friend and JL’s something. We have no definition yet. Maybe Paris will clarify things. Unfortunately, a big blow-up at the end of the evening cast a pall over everything. Today the traveling band leaves for London. I should go to the airport, but my defender and I pick up a drive-through breakfast and go into the office to prepare for the Monday morning meeting.
