Page 91 of Bitter Heat

“How’s the dynamo?”

“Docile,” Colette said. “I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“She’s faking.”

Colette snickered. “So Ariana keeps telling me.” She paused. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. We’re gonna be neighbors.”

“We are?”

“Roth lives at 432 Park Avenue.”

A pause and then, “Damn.”

“One of the top floors. I thought I’d seen the best of New York, but this view is worth whatever ridiculous price he paid for it.”

Colette’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you sure, Minnie? Marriage?”

Roth could be a first-class asshole and was definitely bad for her mental and emotional well-being, but she could do this. “Yes.”

“Lyle’s not happy.”

“I know.”

Colette sighed. “He’ll get over it.”

“I hope so. I just wanted to check in. How’s your blood pressure? Is everything okay?”

“They may keep me for another day.”

“Okay, well, keep me posted and send me pics of Polara.”

“Will do.”

She hung up and went into the master suite. Roth’s closet was as large as most people’s apartments and designed with custom nooks and crannies. The clothes she had bought from Bloomingdale’s and Black Jade hung on the opposite side of the closet from a rack of Roth’s suits. They were all relentless black and hung with military precision. He had a drawer of ties and watches and an army of polished shoes. Daiyu’s colorful pieces were a burst of color in the otherwise monotone closet. The notebook from the hotel where she had sketched her latest idea was on a glass shelf. She tucked the notebook under her arm before she grabbed the things she had brought from Tuxedo Park and put them in the guest bedroom. After she grabbed her laptop, she headed to the kitchen, which had the best lighting.

She sat at the massive island on a cushioned stool and propped her notebook against a bowl of fruit as she began to type what she’d written last night. When she finished, she went to the fridge and selected a lime soda water and picked up the landline phone and dialed zero.

“Ms. Hennessy, what can I do for you?”

The sexless, cool voice on the other end of the line made her jump. The phone didn’t even ring.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Hennessy, yes, what can I do for you? Mr. Roth said you’d be calling for dinner. What can we prepare?”

She looked around. “I don’t see a menu, so I’m not sure what you have.”

“Anything you want, we will make, Ms. Hennessy.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay, can I have grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts?”

“It’ll be sent up as soon as it’s ready. Any desserts?”

“Um, no, that’s okay. Thank you.”

“Our pleasure, Ms. Hennessy.”

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