Page 18 of Access

“You have an RBF like I have a third boob. What is it?”

Paco looked over, melting from the familiar warmth in Madison’s eyes. He got why Alex had been drawn in so quickly; letting one’s guard down was easy around her. Maybe a little too easy for his taste. He tried to get it together. “Let’s just say I really wanted to teach this to someone once, someone very special, but I lost the chance. I guess I just didn’t want to miss the chance again.” With her seatbelt still on, Madison leaned over to his shoulder, resting her head on it. She knew that look, and her heart sank. The look was loss. And with loss, sometimes there were no words. Just understanding. In that they were connected. He rested his head on hers as they quietly made their way back into the city.

They headed in the direction of Madison’s apartment, and Paco passed it without so much as a glance. She grabbed his shoulder to let him know he’d passed her place, which was easy to do with how it was crammed amongst so many other buildings. But he turned to her with the look of devilish assurance; she got it. He was up to something, yet again. “Don’t bother asking. We’re doing exactly what I said you would do. Promise.” His Cheshire cat grin assured her it was something other than she imagined. What did he say earlier? Something about a bath?

“Can you at least give me a hint?” she asked, in the hopes she might get further with this tactic.

He looked over, sizing her up for what lay ahead. He knew Alex’s intentions, but wasn’t about to spoil what he hoped would be a welcome surprise. Then, he offered, “Do you have that card I gave you?” She opened the Hermes clutch, finding the little card he’d handed her before he dropped her off at Sheila’s shower. She pulled it out to show him. “Good, you’ll need it.” She started thinking they must be going back to the office. “Yes, we’re going the wrong way for that too,” Paco said, realizing her gears were spinning. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me for now.” His smile returned, a frustrating but adorable substitute for answers. Madison sat patiently. What else could she do?

Between the perfect temperature, sunshine, purr of the luxury vehicle, and exciting events one after the other, she unexpectedly dozed off. She awakened a little disoriented when the door opened. Paco stood outside the car. “We’re here.” He offered his hand to help her out.

“Where?” Madison asked, realizing they were in some sort of posh garage.

“Where you’ll be staying, unless you object. I confess, my driving lesson was to keep you occupied until Alex finished this up for you. Use your card over there.” Madison headed to the swipe panel, and Paco followed. An elevator door opened.

She recognized the interior panel and, without a word, swiped her card again. The doors closed, reopening a moment later to a luxury penthouse apartment.

“Welcome home, Miss Madison. Enjoy discovering. Dinner will be served at 7:00 p.m. Your bath is already drawn and will hold its temperature for about an hour. Call me if you need anything.” He kissed her on both cheeks and stepped back into the elevator. “And don’t lose those gloves. You’ll need them again,” he promised as the elevator doors closed.

Did he say home?

The vastness of the penthouse apartment was remarkable, but paled in comparison to its contents. The furnishings and art were exquisite yet cozy. There were books throughout, some new and some old, and many with bookmarks, as if they’d been re-shelved mid-read.

Meandering through the halls, she came to the master bedroom, filled with light from the floor-to-ceiling windows as well as oversized skylights. Peeking into what she presumed was Alex’s closet, she found a room filled with a wide range of elegant clothing, tags intact, and all in her size. The closet looked as though Rodeo Drive had backed a truck up and unloaded every bit of the highest end clothing and accessories one could imagine. Again, every shoe was her size, and arranged by color and heel sequence, ready to be the perfect match to whatever her day or night needs were.

There was a special alcove to the side with a pedestal and lights shining from the top and bottom, spotlighting the pair Alex had given her. She softly brushed them with her fingertips. She glanced around and a smile warmed her face. I can practically do a J-turn right here in this space. This closet is nearly the size of my apartment.

The center of the closet showcased an island with the ubiquitous access panel. When she hovered her card across it, it opened like a reverse Venus flytrap, slowly exposing boxes from Tiffany and Cartier. Though curious, she eagerly wanted to see what other wonders awaited her discovery. She re-swiped the card, and the island closed.

She followed the sound of a slight rumbling from outside the closet. It led her to the bathroom, with a large, white bathtub front and center, surrounded by infinity edging. The rumbling was from the jets, pulsing the lavender scented water. A side panel displayed the temperature. Next to the temperature panel was a plush robe with “MT” embossed on the pocket. It occurred to her as she scanned the room, half the towels were embossed with her initials. The other half were embossed with “AD.” Near the bathtub a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket of ice with a single flute next to it. There was a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, cheeses, artisan crackers, and a little note with “Madison” hand-written on it. She opened it.

Enjoy your bath. See you tonight.

Alex

And so, she did.

14

After indulging in a bath, sipping champagne, tasting some delectable strawberries, and dressing, there was still time before dinner. She prepared to lose herself in the penthouse like one loses a day in an exquisite museum. The furnishings and art were stunning yet subdued, and, in a strange way, to her exact liking. Each item was something she would have chosen, then placed in the exact spot she would have put it. Even the book on the side table under the lamp. It was one of her favorites, The Count of Monte Cristo. She picked it up and opened it nostalgically. Flipping the cover, she paused. It was inscribed. “Love you always. Grandpa Mike.” She closed the book, looked at the cover and re-opened it in disbelief. This is my book, from my Grandpa Mike. A book that up until the day before yesterday had been in her apartment, in a drawer next to her bed.

Alarmed, she looked around, and closely inspected the photos sitting on the baby grand piano. There were about a dozen photos, but one hit her the hardest. It was small, but she could see it clear as day. It was her and her father, and they seemed to be posing with another picture, but it was too hard to determine what exactly was on the photo-within-the-photo. She could make out three people in the smaller image, but it was just too fuzzy for her to tell who they were or why she and her dad would be holding it up. Undeniably, this was her and her father, smiling as they stood for the camera. She had only the faintest recollection of the photo being taken. The more she tried recalling it, the more it felt like grabbing a cloud, slipping from tangible to intangible as she grabbed at it. By the looks of it, she was about fourteen or fifteen when it was taken.

Her head was spinning with emotions and questions. Despite her initial thoughts, how might not be the biggest question. She’d seen the remarkable information and resources Alex Drake had at his disposal. The biggest question was why.

She found her purse and retrieved her phone, snapping a shot of the interior of the book, then the photo. She sent the images to the number Alex had texted from earlier. She followed it with three letters.

MADISON: WTF?!

15

Paco picked Alex up from his last meeting of the day, a common practice they both found helpful. They could catch up on any recent developments at work, and on whatever else was on their minds, with a casual familiarity they both preferred not to display at the office. To the outside world, they stayed employer and employee. Only they knew the depth of their friendship.

Nothing beat taking work home in a half-million-dollar car. It got them where they needed to go quickly, but provided the privacy they demanded while in transit. Paco alone was trusted with highly confidential transactions, covert reconnaissance, and anything that required just the right touch when hundreds of millions of dollars were on the line.

Today, he had a few documents that required Alex’s signature, and any premature leak of information could impact D.G.I. in a very long-term and detrimental way. These documents, taken out of context, could incite semi-mass hysteria and stock market shockwaves that might disrupt business to a debilitating level for years to come.

When tidbits needed to hit the streets, Alex had the connections, and Paco scattered the right leaks at optimal times and with pinpoint precision, reinforcing D.G.I.’s stock value, corporate growth, and global presence. Likewise, a commensurate bonus eagerly followed each lucrative transaction, and overflowed to Paco’s offshore bank account.

---