platinum gray bob and her eyes sparkled with wit and good humor. She introduced me to her husband, Wallace, who gave truth to the notion that couples grew to resemble each other with age.
A waiter passed with a tray of champagne glasses and Derek handed me one. I took a bracing sip for courage.
“How are you enjoying San Francisco?” I asked Corinne.
“Oh, we’ve fallen in love with the city,” Corinne exclaimed, her British accent clipped. “The first day we arrived, we spent two hours wandering through Golden Gate Park. We got lost in the Japanese garden. It’s exquisite. And your arboretum rivals our Kew Gardens. You’ve seen it, of course?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” I said. “Do you live near the park?”
“Just a few blocks away,” Wallace explained. “We’ve purchased a lovely flat in the Sunset District.”
“I love the Sunset,” I said. “One of my brothers lived near Ninth and Judah for a while. You must be fairly close to the beach.”
“Oh, yes. We love your beaches. So rough-and-tumble. And the fog is lovely.” She patted her husband’s arm. “Reminds Wallace of home.”
“I’m so glad,” I said, smiling at him.
Wallace took a long sip of beer. “Drove up to Mendocino last weekend. Spectacular drive. You Californians have no idea what a paradise you live in.”
“Oh, we do,” I insisted. “San Franciscans love their city and take it very seriously. No teasing allowed. Not like Los Angeles. Everyone mocks Los Angeles, but here, it’s not permissible.”
They both laughed and Derek beamed. I took a moment to glance around the spacious lobby, then smiled at Corinne. “The offices are beautiful. I imagine you’re responsible for pulling everything together in time for this party.”
“Oh, I like this girl, I really do,” she said, patting Derek’s arm.
“So do I,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
A look passed between them and Corinne smiled her approval. Had I just passed a test?
“Hi, boss!” a woman cried, and four attractive women gathered around to greet and flirt with Derek. After a minute of laughing and teasing, he introduced me to all of them. I was determined to remember as many names as possible, so there was Shana, word-processing supervisor; Maris, personal assistant to one of Derek’s partners; Liv, accounts supervisor; and Kara, human resources secretary. Liv and Maris had moved here from London, and the other two had been hired locally.
Derek had mentioned the name Maris before. She was the one who was working with the real estate broker to find Derek the perfect home. And why that caused a spurt of jealousy to zing through me, I didn’t want to know.
The women were dressed for a night on the town, and I guessed this party qualified. They all described their jobs to me in glowing terms, then mentioned a club they were planning to go to later that night. They seemed friendly and interested in what I did for a living, which was nice. Then Derek saw a client approaching and the women took that opportunity to head for the bar.
Derek introduced me to everyone we encountered as he led me on a brief tour of the offices.
“I can’t imagine anything more boring than roaming around a business office,” he said, grabbing two more glasses of champagne just before we left the lobby and entered a well-lit hall. “But the views from several of the offices are spectacular.”
“This building is beautiful,” I said as I peeked inside one large office. “I love the high ceilings and the crown moldings and the windows. How did you find the space?”
He glanced at me as he pushed open another office door for my perusal. “Do you recall our adventures in Chinatown last month?”
I smiled. “I do.” We’d been chasing down a rare book but ran into a dead guy instead, something that was happening more and more lately.
“We drove past this building that day,” he said.
“We did?”
“Yes. I noticed the sign and made inquiries.”
I was drawn to a wall of books in his partner’s office. On closer examination, I saw they were mostly spy novels, which seemed appropriate, given the nature of Derek’s business. Graham Greene, John le Carre, Ken Follett, Ian Fleming, Jack Higgins. Hundreds more. An impressive collection.
“So you were considering a move even then?” I asked.
“Yes, a bit earlier than that, actually.”
“Really?” I turned and headed for the doorway where he stood. “When did you first start thinking about it?”
He closed the door and we walked arm in arm back toward the lobby. “When I saw you across the room at the Covington Library.”
I stuttered to a stop in the middle of the wide, well-lit hall and gaped at him. The Covington Library? Where I found my mentor dying in a pool of blood? Where Derek first accused me of murder? “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes.” He held my arm as he kissed me lightly on the lips. “I did.”
I was flustered. Flattered. Flummoxed. And okay, yes, flabbergasted. It was hard to think of something to say.
“I’ve succeeded in silencing you,” he said wryly.
“Yeah, well.” My throat was dry as a desert, so I took a big, long sip of champagne. “You really know how to shut a girl up.”
He moved in for another slow, simmering kiss that managed to fry my brain. Then he pressed his hand to the small of my back and led me toward the lobby. “I’m afraid I must mingle for another hour or so before we can go.”
“Right,” I mumbled. “Mingle.”
Twenty minutes later, while Derek talked with Paul Maynard, a longtime client, and his wife, I excused myself to get another glass of champagne. I wasn’t looking for something to drink so much as for the comfort and security of having something to hold on to. As I approached the counter, I heard laughter bubbling at one of the circular bar tables set up nearby.
“So she’s Derek’s flavor of the month,” a woman said in a low voice.
“She’s pretty.”
“But nothing special.”
“Do we know how they met?”
“I have no idea.”
“You work with Corinne. Can’t you find out?”
“Maybe when he was out here for the Winslow exhibit. But I can’t imagine what he was thinking when he…”
The woman’s voice dwindled down to a whisper, and despite my subtle efforts to listen in, I couldn’t hear anything else. Moments later, though, there was a burst of laughter. At my expense, no doubt.
Was I being paranoid? I summoned my courage and turned to look at the women. Maris, the prettiest of them all, was staring right at me. Seeing me confront them obviously stunned her, and she blinked and looked away.
I clutched my champagne glass. This felt like a bad sitcom. What had I done to deserve their wrath? Besides snag their wealthy, totally hot boss, that is.
And speaking of the hot boss, if Derek were to overhear their bitchy remarks, I didn’t think he’d be happy with them. Just a guess. And how rude was it that they were loudly discussing the woman their boss had brought to the party? Did they care about their job security?
I walked as far away as I could get from the group, to the other side of the room. Because if I had to keep hearing their cackling comments, I would be tempted to poke their beady eyes out with one of these ridiculously tight (but very cute) three-inch heels I was sporting.
And there I went again, getting all violent and bloodthirsty. Still, under the circumstances, who could blame me?
Standing near the wall of elaborately scrolled ironwork windows, I centered my energies, aligned my chakras, and took a moment to admire the view of Huntington Park and Grace Cathedral in the distance.
