“I see.” He seems not quite satisfied but adds anyway, “I’ll bring the car around if you’re ready to leave, sir.”
“Yes, please,” I say. “I’m anticipating a very busy day.”
One of the advantages to working on a Saturday is that, with the exception of the cleaning crew, I have the entire building to myself. One of the disadvantages is that I have the entire building to myself, thus no one to interact with, thus plenty of time to think.
I’m also aware of how many clocks there are in the place. I find myself checking them every so often, only to find that half an hour has passed.
Counting down til seven? I ask myself.
Of course not. It’s just that I have an appointment later today and I’m a stickler for keeping my appointments.
Is that why you’re eying the clock at ten a.m.? I think. Don’t want the next nine hours to slip by, do you?
I tell myself that that isn’t it at all.
“And furthermore,” I say out loud to the empty office, “I can prove it.”
I take out my phone and punch in White’s number. I had badgered her into giving me her personal cell number early on in our communications and had no compunctions about using it.
She picks up on the first ring. Waiting by the phone, I wonder.
“Hello?” she says. No, not waiting. Irritated.
“Ms. White,” I say.
“That’s me. Mr. Stone. That’s you. What can I do for you?”
“I can barely hear you,” I say. “What’s all that noise in the background?”
“I’m at the market,” she replies, “buying ingredients for a certain dinner I’m apparently obligated to prepare tonight.”
That makes me smile a little. I don’t mind the jab. A little fire is an attractive quality. I realize what I’ve just thought and laugh.
“Did I say something funny, Mr. Stone?”
“No, I was thinking of something else.”
“Did you have anything you wanted changed about the evening’s plans?” she asks.
“Not exactly,” I say. “Just wanted to remind you to keep it casual.”
“I know. You made that abundantly clear. Don’t worry; I won’t be wearing anything flammable this time.”
“Good to know.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you.” She said it like a statement rather than as a question. Questions could be answered with a yes. This was a flat declaration that she wanted this conversation to be over so she could go back to what she was doing. In a way, I could respect that.
“No,” I say. “That’s it. See you tonight, then.”
“I’ll be at your house at four, if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine.” I look around the office. Most of the lights are off and the place feels like a cave. It’s actually quite pleasant talking with White, a bit of warmth in an otherwise cold setting.
“Fine,” she says. “See you at seven.”
“Seven,” I confirm and hang up.
I look at my watch. Ten-thirty. Plenty of time to get plenty done.
If, that is, I can concentrate, which for some reason I’m having a hard time doing.
Chapter 9 - Steph
“You want casual?” I ask my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I’ll give you casual.”
It’s true. If I had gone with my initial urge, which was to wear my Siouxsie and the Banshees T-shirt, I would have looked like I was prepared to serve shots rather than fine cuisine. As it was, though, I had opted for a plain, dark T-shirt, jeans, and my comfortable running shoes.
My one concession to convention is to have my hair pulled back. The chef in me cries out at the thought of having it down while at work.
I’d arranged to have everything delivered to Stone’s place, so the only thing I would have to take over there would be my knives and myself. Excuse me, I mean my replacement knives. My original set went up in smoke with the rest of Stone’s kitchen a week ago. Replacing them had been at the top of my list of to-dos after that rotten episode.
As I roll up the knife holder, watching the still-new knives being tucked away serves as a reminder of how badly south the evening had gone last time. I’m determined that no disaster, great or small, is going to befall me this time.
I take a cab to Stone’s address. It was better to see the place in the absence of flashing red lights.
Stone’s assistant meets me at the door.
“Ms. Stone,” he says, actually smiling. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I say, “although I can’t speak for your boss. I can understand if I’m not exactly his favorite person right now.”
“On the contrary…Mr. Stone has been looking forward to this evening.” He stands aside, ushering me in.
Stone’s been anticipating my little working visit? With something other than poisonous resentment? This was news.
“Did all of my stuff get delivered here all right?” I ask once we are moving through the front hallway.
“Yes, indeed. Everything is in the kitchen and ready for you.”
I sigh. “Thanks. I just wish I felt ready myself.”
Curtis smiles again. “I think that evening is going to go wonderfully,” he says. “If nothing else, you’ll be working on familiar territory.”
We’ve reached the kitchen and I see he’s right. I look around in disbelief. Everything was exactly as it had been before the fire, which may as well have not even happened.
“This room was a total loss,” I say to Curtis. “How did you get the damage…erased like this in just a week?”
“Mr. Stone prefers not to waste time. Efficiency is one of his watchwords.”
“Timely fellow,
