14
After saying goodbye to Megan, Dana went back to her dressing room. Her plan was to grab her purse and her cell phone, then search the corridors for Ari or anyone who had seen him. But when she got there, he was sitting on her beige sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was in his white shirt and blue pin dot tie, his jacket folded next to him. He stood.
Dana closed the door behind her and turned to him. They were about eight feet apart, but neither took a step forward.
“Ari,” she said, aware that she needed to start. She waited a beat but he said nothing, so she continued. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I see. You wanted to break up, with no hard feelings. Neat and easy.” His voice was cold, measured, restrained.
“No! I didn’t want to break up. You misunderstood.”
“Let’s just go over the facts,” he said, sounding so much like a detective she half expected him to pull a notebook from his pocket and flip it open. “First, you took a new apartment when you knew I wasn’t ready for it. My reaction to that couldn’t have come as a surprise. So yes, it sure as hell looks like you wanted to push me out the door. It wasn’t even subtle, Dana.”
“No, I swear. That wasn’t my—”
“Let me finish. After I left, I thought there was a small possibility you had merely exercised bad judgment, and hadn’t meant to push me away. So I kept my cell phone ringer on, just in case you offered an apology. To be honest, I even got my hopes up. Then you texted.” He paused, straining to keep his composure. She could see him swallow. “I had to read it twice to even understand—not even close to an apology. A breakup...in a text.” He pronounced the word as if it could draw blood.
“Not a breakup!” she pleaded. “Just a time-out. It’s not the same thing.”
“Please. It’s the coward’s way of breaking up. If you wanted to see other people, you should have at least been honest about it.”
“You think there’s someone else?”
“What else am I supposed to think?”
“That’s crazy,” she said. “My whole world is work and you.” Dana studied his face, wondering how he could possibly think she would cheat on him. Her devotion felt as palpable as the very soles of her shoes.
“We both know that’s not true.”
Dana’s hand flew to her heart. “What are you talking about?”
“I know how dedicated you are to that Sweat City group.”
“They’re my friends. You can’t honestly be jealous. Most of the men are gay, anyway.”
“Not Nathan.”
“Nathan is married,” she said.
He shrugged, as if that wasn’t materially important.
“Oh for god’s sake, I’m not sleeping with Nathan...or anyone else for that matter.” Dana took a step forward, trying to understand. Then she got it. As a cop, he saw the worst in humanity every day, so it was hard for his mind to go elsewhere. “Ari,” she said gently, “I was being literal. Honestly. I never wanted to break up with you. I was trying to find a way forward that would solve all our problems...including the ones I created.”
Ari folded his arms, but he didn’t seem entirely closed off. He was listening.
“I’m sorry I signed the lease,” she continued. “It was stupid. But the apartment swept me away, and I felt like I’d regret it if I let the opportunity go. I was already picturing our happily-ever-after in that place—you have to believe me. I thought your promotion would come through any day.”
“Then why didn’t you apologize that night?”
She threw her hands up. “I thought I was being clever. I thought you could take the lead on the case if we were on a break. And then you’d get your promotion, and we would get back together and... I don’t know. It all made perfect sense.” She wanted to match his stoicism, but her eyes filled, and she had to blink away tears to focus on his expression. Was he softening? It was so hard to tell.
“I love you,” she said, studying his face. It stayed rigid, but she fixed on his eyes, which still weren’t giving much away. She tried again. “Ari, I love you. And I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
He didn’t move, but his eyes showed just the tiniest glisten. She hesitated, making sure she saw it, and then charged forward, throwing her arms around him. He returned the embrace, and he felt so good and smelled so much like love and warmth and everything she wanted that Dana couldn’t hold back. And then she had to surreptitiously wipe her nose with the back of her hand so she wouldn’t dirty his shirt.
They held each other a long time. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
She felt him draw in a breath, but he said nothing.
“I’ll repeat it a hundred times if you want me to,” she said.
He kissed the top of her head. “I forgive you,” he whispered.
Dana struggled to fill her lungs with a juddering intake of air. She backed up to look into his eyes. “I can’t get out of the lease,” she said. “I put down a massive deposit.”
She worried it might infuriate him, or create an unsolvable impasse. But he nodded to show he understood.
“I mean, I could hire a lawyer to see if I could get out of it, but I don’t know if that—”
“Dana, please. Shut up about the damned apartment already. We’ll work it out.”
“We will?”
He responded by kissing her on the mouth, and it was everything. Forgiveness. Understanding. Love. There was nothing more she could want. Or was there? As their bodies pressed together, the warmth gave way to heat, and the sofa, undersized as it was, yielded to their desperate, breathless frenzy.
We will, his body seemed to say. We will. We will. We will. Dana shivered, responding to his desire. It seemed to flume her open, as she softened, then stiffened, then softened again.
“Ari,” she breathed. “Ari...”
15
Later, they went back to her apartment and in the morning, when his phone’s alarm clock chirped its monstrously cheerful wake-up song, Dana reached for his arm.
“Wait,” she pleaded, rolling toward him. She wanted to absorb his smell, his warmth, the smoothness of his touch as his hand ran down the silk of her back. And they made flushed, sleepy love one more time. Afterward, she stayed in bed and fell back into a brief, dreamy sleep, awaking to find him freshly showered and ready to leave.
Dana propped herself on her elbows. “Will you let me know what he says?” she asked, referring to his boss. The night before, they had discussed Ari’s strategy for dealing with any possible conflict of interest on the case. He would tell his lieutenant the truth about them, and let him decide if Ari needed to withdraw from the investigation.
“Of course,” he said, “but I have to be in court this afternoon for another case, so it might not be until later.” Then he gave her a kiss and left.
Dana stayed in bed just a few more minutes, aware that she still had a promise to keep. She needed to track down Eleanor Gratz and see if she could uncover any information on her mysterious visit to the Dennison house. She would have asked Ari if he knew anything about this, but thought it best to let that unfold on its own. If Jamie hadn’t told him yet, he would soon.
She dressed and went to the studio an hour early, heading straight to the executive floor. There, she was waylaid by Brenda, the receptionist, who was eager for Dana’s speculation on who might have pushed Ivan to his death.
Dana turned the question right around. “Who do you think it was?” she asked.
“My money’s on Sherry,” Brenda said. “But if I was writing it as a screenplay, I’d go with Anna, her significant other—more unexpected.”
“And the motive?” Dana asked.
“Easy, looking out for her girlfriend, whose job is on the line.”
“Neat twist.” Dana rubbed her chin. “What are others saying?”
“W
hat aren’t they saying?” Brenda corrected. “Honeycutt... Eleanor...the son...even you.”
“Me?” Dana wondered what people might have seen that she couldn’t remember.
“Personally, I don’t think you’re the type.”
“And why not?” Dana asked, curious about her reputation here. Outside of work—at least among her family members—she was considered impulsive and irresponsible. The very traits that would make her the perfect suspect.
Brenda squinted at her, as if seeing something Dana was trying to hide. “I just don’t think this job means that much to you. Certainly not enough to push a guy off the roof for threatening the company.”
It was a fair assessment. Sure, Dana liked this gig and wanted to keep it, wanted to see the Shopping Channel succeed. But in the end, it was just a job. Acting was her passion...her calling.
She smiled at Brenda, whom she knew was a fellow trouper. “Are you saying I’d be capable of murder if I had a major role at stake?”
“Wouldn’t we all?” Brenda asked.
Dana tapped her desk in appreciation, then went off to see Eleanor Gratz.
This time, there was no hesitation when she knocked on the head buyer’s door.
“If that’s not Idris Elba in a tuxedo carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, get lost,” Eleanor called.
Dana opened the door. Eleanor was dressed lusciously in a navy gabardine dress and statement jewelry. It was, Dana imagined, important to look impeccable when you were dealing with suppliers. Anyone on the other side of the desk needed to know she was fashion-savvy and formidable.
“Do you write these things out beforehand?” Dana asked.
“I compose them on the way to work, clears my head.”
She entered the office and sat. “You come up with a new one every day?”
“You want the truth or an entertaining lie?” Eleanor asked.
“I always want the truth.”
“Then you’re in the wrong business, superwoman. What can I do for you today, other than prostrate myself at your feet?”
Dana smiled. They hadn’t spoken since the board meeting, so a debriefing was due. “That was pretty slick, huh?”
“I knew you would charm the board, but I had no idea you would take them hostage and steal their souls. It was a thing of beauty.”
“Glad I could help,” Dana said.
“And then you followed it up by having your best show in months. Whatever you’re taking, I want some.”
“No, you don’t.” Dana leaned back and crossed her legs. “That’s just me under pressure. I don’t think we need any more of that around here.”
Eleanor agreed. “Trust me, I have my hands full pushing Reluven products into the holiday schedule. We’re creating a gift basket with their bath line, which you haven’t seen yet. I think it’s going to kill, but we have to hustle. The special packaging is being manufactured, and I got the graphics department working on our presentation.”
Dana nodded. She knew there was a lot involved in launching a new line on the Shopping Channel. Normally, it took months, not weeks. “You’re moving mountains,” she said.
“On my back,” Eleanor responded, “three times around the globe.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Yeah, sell the hell out of it.” She took off her reading glasses and sat back, pleased. “We might just save this place, you know.”
Her eyes were lit like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, and it struck Dana that Eleanor worked pretty well under pressure, too. Now, though, Dana had a tough task. She had to shift the conversation to something which might extinguish that light.
“Have you heard anything from the Dennisons?” she asked. It was intentionally vague. She wanted to test the woman’s reaction.
Eleanor’s smile went flat. “The Dennisons?” she repeated. “I leave that to Charles Honeycutt and the board of directors.” She straightened a pile of papers on her desk as she regained her composure. To Dana, it looked like she was searching for an innocent reason for Dana’s question, and thought she found one. “The funeral was private, but there’s a memorial service for the public next week out on Long Island. We’ll be arranging the schedule here so most senior personnel can make it.”
“But you know them, right? The Dennisons?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Eleanor shifted in her chair. “The family?”
“Jamie told me you were out at the house a couple of weeks ago.”
Eleanor leaned on her hand, fingers covering her mouth as she considered the statement. “Well, yes. I went to see Ivan about some...business.” She avoided eye contact.
“Is that the truth or an entertaining lie?” Dana asked. She said it without malice, but it was too weighty to be taken lightly.
Eleanor’s brow tightened. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Listen, I’m not trying to corner you. We’re on the same team, right? I just want to help Jamie out. He’s concerned about his mom—about the kind of things that might come out about his dad.”
Eleanor sat back in her chair, and Dana could sense some internal calculus going on. She was deciding whether to be honest. It took several moments, but at last she leaned forward. “Okay, look—I had an idea of what Dennison was planning, so I reached out to some electronics suppliers and found some dirt on him. I thought I could use it as leverage, get him to back off.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know what else to do. He was going to destroy everything we built.”
“What kind of dirt?” Dana pressed.
Eleanor hesitated for a moment, as if considering what she should divulge. Finally she sighed. “At least one affair and a couple of sexual harassment complaints handled quietly—presumably with settlements.”
Dana rubbed her forehead, thinking of the conversation Jamie would need to have with his mother.
“This can’t come as a complete surprise to you,” Eleanor said. “I saw the way Ivan was all over you at the party.”
“It’s not that,” Dana said. “I just want to understand. Did you threaten to tell his wife?”
“Yeah, that was the idea.”
“So what happened?”
“He wouldn’t budge.”
“But you didn’t go through with it,” Dana said. It was more of a statement than a question, because she already knew Eleanor left the house without talking to Blair Dennison.
After a moment, Eleanor shrugged.
“Why not?” Dana asked.
“I just...changed my mind.”
Dana knew there had to be more to it, but she saw no reason to get contentious. That would be up to the police. For her part, Dana had the information she sought.
* * *
After work, Dana went to meet Megan for a quick drink to tell her about the conversation with Eleanor. This time, it was a pub near her studio, and it was jammed. Dana had to push her way through the happy hour crowd to find her friend in a quiet booth she had snagged in the back.
Dana slid in across from her, and Megan signaled the waitress so they could order drinks.
“What happened?” Megan asked, when the waitress left. “Did you talk to Eleanor?”
Dana nodded. “Jamie must be a hell of a reporter, because he got everything right. Eleanor dug up some dirt on Ivan’s philandering, and went to the house to threaten to expose him.”
“He’s sharp as a razor,” Megan said, and Dana caught her suppressing a smile.
“You like him,” she prodded.
“It’s early,” Megan said, catching herself, “and a weird way to start a relationship.”
“You’re allowed to like him,” Dana said. “He’s smart and cute. And down-to-earth. You’d never know how loaded he is.”
Megan waved away the comment. She didn’t want to talk about it. “Tell me about Eleanor. I assume
she knew about Ivan’s plans for the company before she went to see him?”
“Yeah, but she said he wouldn’t budge. And for some reason, she decided not to carry through on her threat to tell the wife.”
Megan looked thoughtful. “That’s curious.”
“She was pretty cagey about that part. I think she’s hiding something. In fact, if I hadn’t confronted her directly—” Dana heard two drunk girls laughing and looked up to see them walking toward her table, leaning on each other for support. When she offered them a small smile, they collapsed into each other, squealing.
“Can I help you?” Megan asked, as the girls stood before them.
The taller one, who had mascara smudges under her eyes, pointed at Dana. “You’re that girl from the Shopping Channel. We’ve seen you on TV.”
“We think you’re really cute,” said the other one, who held a drink that spilled as she spoke.
“I think you’re really cute, too,” Dana said.
The girls giggled, delighted.
“Can we take a selfie with you?” the tall one asked.
“Sure,” Dana said, and stood to pose with the girls for a photo she knew would wind up on social media. That was why it was important to be sweet in public. The tiniest infraction could get her branded a bitch in a post that could go viral in an instant.
“You’re so nice,” the drink-spilling girl said as she petted Dana’s arm.
“You ladies have a great night,” she said. “Thanks for saying hi.”
“We love you!” they called as they walked away, staring down at the cell-phone image.
“Star power, baby,” Megan said, when they were out of earshot.
Dana laughed. “They don’t even know my name.”
“Patience,” Megan said. It was shorthand for all they had discussed about Dana’s career. Her plan was for Dana to spend a few years at the Shopping Channel to raise her profile, and then she would have an easier path to the biggest auditions.
A few minutes later, the waitress brought their drinks. Megan stirred hers thoughtfully as she bit her lip. “There’s one thing I don’t get,” she said.
The Rooftop Party Page 10