Page 78 of Old Money
“Okay. You would work the rehearsal dinner.”
“What?”
“Quit interrupting. Yes, it only works if you’re on staff thatnight. I could put you in the break room—for shirt changes and touch-ups.” He grew more animated. “I’ll need someone for that anyway. The guys are gonna melt out there”
He sat back, thinking it through.
“We’ll need hairspray, maybe an iron.” He pointed at me. “Do you know how to tie a tie?”
“Slow down.”
“It’s fine, I can teach you.”
“Stop!” I peeked out of the booth. “For starters, why would I try to sneak into the archive during the rehearsal dinner? When all the Yateses are in the clubhouse—literally, everyone and their relatives?”
“Because,” Jamie answered, grinning, “they’re not having itinthe clubhouse. They’re having it outside. Sunset dinner, on top of the hill.”
I turned my head, dubious.
“Outdoor dinner, at sunset? Who thought that was a good idea?”
“I know, mosquitos and glare, super romantic—but c’mon, think. No members in the clubhouse,andwe’ll know exactly where they are. Everyone will be right outside where we can see them.”
“And if someone comes in to use the bathroom? Or get away from the bugs?”
“Then you’ll have a minute or two while they walk from the hill to the clubhouse. That’s why it’s perfect—they’re close, but not too close.” Jamie pointed across the table at me. “Shouting distance—that’s what made me think of it. You’ll be able to see them coming.”
“Great, but Jamie, even if all this works, we still don’t have a key.”
Jamie heaved a breath, nodding.
“That part—yeah. That part’s harder. I’m going to have to get Mr. Brody to give me his keys.”
“Givethem to you? Voluntarily?”
Jamie nodded.
“It’s the only way. We’ll never be able to steal them. He wears them on this key-clip thing like a fuckin’ latchkey kid. He’d never give them to you, obviously, but he might give them to me in an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” I asked, doubtful.
“I don’t know—something with the freight elevator? I’ll just have to fake some random crisis and tell him I lost my elevator key.”
I shook my head.
“Not random. It has to be something specific and urgent, so he won’t have time to fiddle around and get that one key off the ring.”
We both sat, silently staring at each other. Then, the answers hit us simultaneously:
“Gin,” said Jamie.
“Lemons,” I said.
***
I call Jamie from the car, five minutes after leaving the Martha. He answers on the first ring.
“What if it rains?” I ask without preamble. “Then they’llhaveto move the dinner inside.”
