Page 79 of The Agent
Jenya scarfed down a cheese-laden cracker as she passed by while doing another sweep through the house. “Sounds like a great offer to me. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in two weeks.”
“Where did you work before, Sarah?” Natalie asked. Maybe if the woman talked about a time before her marriage, she would forget her terror.
“Do you remember Myrtle and Pepper’s in Summit? I was the pastry chef,” Sarah said, her voice steadier.
“Dessert!” Jenya called from the front hallway. “Now we’re talking!”
The bodyguard didn’t have an ounce of spare flesh on her, so Natalie was surprised she liked sweets. “I probably have the ingredients for a cake,” Natalie said.
“Great!” Sarah put down her drink and jumped up. “Why don’t I get started so it will be ready for after dinner?”
She seemed relieved to have something constructive to do, so Natalie gave her a tour of the kitchen. She understood the need to think about anything other than the pain of a failed marriage.
While Sarah bustled around in the kitchen, looking less tense, Natalie and Jenya finished off the cheese and crackers. Just as Natalie took the last sip of her Manhattan, her cell phone vibrated with a text.
It was from Tully.
Just checking in. Everything okay there?
Had Jenya told him about Sarah? She must have. He was her boss. But Natalie tried to formulate a way to convey information without saying it outright.
She typed:No new developments. All quiet. Thank you for the check-in.
I’d like to come out tomorrow to see the lay of the land, if that’s all right with you.
Every fiber of her body sparked at the thought of seeing him tomorrow. Which meant that it was a bad idea. However, more was at stake here than her emotional issues.
Sure. What time?
Does noon work?
Sounds good.She took a deep breath and added:Will you join us for lunch?
There was a noticeable pause before his answer came back. What had he been thinking during those seconds?
Thanks but I need to get back.
Tomorrow was Sunday but it was possible that he needed to catch up on work. He’d admitted that he had projects he’d neglected to work on her problem. Or he didn’t want to spend more time than necessary with her. She couldn’t blame him.
She put her phone down on her thigh and closed her eyes as the jumbled emotions whirling inside her triggered the urge to cry. After taking a deep breath, she got control of herself and opened her eyes again.
“Are you all right?” Jenya was watching her with concern.
“I’ve been fighting a headache all day,” Natalie said truthfully. She gestured to her phone and spoke in a low voice. “Tully’s coming by at noon tomorrow.”
Jenya nodded and answered equally softly. “He wants to check out your guest. He tried to make it today, but he was tied up with a client.”
The tears threatened again, but Natalie swallowed hard and fixed herself another Manhattan.
Sarah was, in fact, a very good cook. She whipped up a delicious chicken dish with the random ingredients Natalie had on hand. But the cake was the masterpiece: a confection of moist, dense chocolate and rich ganache with a touch of coffee flavor. Sarah insisted that even Jenya have a small glass of port with the cake; she claimed that was the perfect complement to her dessert.
When they had practically licked their plates clean, Natalie and Jenya both leaned back in their chairs with satisfied sighs. Sarah beamed, her culinary success wiping the haunted look from her face.
“You really need to open a bakery,” Jenya said. “You’d make a killing.”
Natalie was feeling drowsy from the combination of food, alcohol, and drama. “Maybe you could provide pastries for my salon’s coffee bar. My customers would love them.” She had to stifle a yawn.
For a moment Sarah’s thin face lit up and then it looked as though someone had turned the light out. She dropped her gaze to her plate, where she’d left half her slice of cake uneaten. “Maybe once I’m through my divorce.”
