Chapter Four
Wednesday, December 3
Allison sat in the Halsted Street cafe, looking over the evening’s schedule of showings and shoveling a large piece of carrot cake in her mouth. She was nervous and sugar helped. But the last thing she wanted was to have Peg see her eating like a pig. She licked her fork and brought her plate to the counter, just in the nick of time. As she turned back to her table, she saw Peg walking through the door.
Peg’s smile grew broader as she looked closely at Allison. “Hi.”
“Hi, Peg. There’s time for coffee if you’d like some.” She led Peg to her table and sat down. She felt a little wobbly.
“Yeah, I thought I’d have a cup and a pastry. Can I get you one?”
“Oh, no. I try not to eat that stuff,” Allison said, patting her stomach in the universal sign language of the perennial dieter.
“If you say so.” Peg grinned, moving over to the counter.
Allison felt like a sixteen-year-old on her first date, and this wasn’t even a date. She took out her mirror to check her face and saw a disastrously sized glob of icing at the corner of her mouth. She wondered if she should run out the door or just kill herself. She sighed as she watched Peg approach the table with something gooey and chocolaty on a plate. She held two forks.
“Don’t say a word,” Peg said as she slowly moved a mouthful of the cake toward Allison. “I can see you want this as much as I do.”
Allison’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth and then closed it around the fork, pinning it there, her eyes locked on Peg’s. Peg’s eyes narrowed, and her lips parted as she slowly, slowly drew the fork away. Allison chewed and swallowed and didn’t taste a thing. “Jesus. I feel like having a cigarette.”
Peg threw her head back and laughed, a moment so unguarded and revealing that Allison felt herself slipping from crush to love. Her feelings were moving too swiftly, but she couldn’t think of a reason to slow them down, not that she’d be able to. She picked up her fork and dug into the cake. “If you’re going to corrupt me, I might as well enjoy it.”
“If I corrupt you, I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.” Peg broke off another bit of cake and stared at it. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve gone about corrupting a woman who’s involved with someone else.”
Allison paused in her assault on the cake. “It’s admirable you’re so principled, but you don’t need to rein in any impulses you might have on my account. You are having impulses, aren’t you?”
“I may be. But I hate the drama of the lesbian triangle.”
Allison paused and gazed at Peg, who seemed to be concentrating on the cake. “I ended things with Camille.”
Peg’s fork paused midair and slowly returned to the plate. “Huh.”
“Huh? That’s all you’ve got?” Allison smiled at the nervous look on Peg’s face. Things were not going to be linear with this one. One minute she was flirting outrageously, the next she was backpedaling. “Peg, don’t worry. Just because you’ve nearly seduced me over a piece of chocolate cake and I’ve broken up with my girlfriend, doesn’t mean we’re getting married.”
“What does it mean?” Peg looked interested, as if she really wanted Allison to enlighten her.
Allison stood and gathered her things. “I’m not sure, but I think we’ll soon find out. Let’s go look at some houses.”
*
Allison drove to the fifth and final house on their schedule, a vintage brick on a double lot. “At this price on a double lot, this house probably needs a lot of work, maybe a gut rehab. But we can take our time talking it over. The agent won’t be there. I’ll use my magic electronic lock box thingy.”
Peg was facing her, leaning against the passenger door of Allison’s car. “I had no idea you brokers used such technical language. I hope I can keep up.”
Allison glanced over with a smile. “Funny. Let’s stay focused here. Unless you’ve the time and energy for a project, this house probably won’t work for you.”
“Why are you showing it to me, then?”
“Listen, Toots, you’ve given me a thimbleful of information on what you really want in a house, so don’t complain about the properties I’m showing you.”
“Toots?” Peg said, amused.
Allison would never be talking this way with a client. She might not be talking this way with a girlfriend. There was something freeing about talking with Peg, the teasing, the banter. She felt strangely at ease, despite the distracting excitement that was making her almost vibrate.
“Oh my God, there’s legal parking,” Allison said. She wrenched her car into a tight spot in front of a very old and stately house and led the way up the front stairs. She pointed her thingy at the lock box on the door and the house keys fell into her hand.
“My, it is magic,” Peg purred.
A bolt of arousal shot through her as she opened the front door. “I’m going to take a quick run through the house and will catch up with you in a few. Is that okay with you?”
“Perfectly.”
Allison moved quickly through the house, appraising the rooms with her practiced eye, while Peg stayed behind in the living room. Nearly every room was shabby and stuffed with heavy, period furniture. It was like an impoverished Dowager Duchess was living there. When she walked into the master bedroom, she was nearly blinded by hideous pink flocked wallpaper. She picked at a corner and wondered how hard it would be to remove. Her thoughts quickly devolved into a vivid fantasy of her and Peg dressed in shorts and T-shirts, stripping off the wallpaper in long, satisfying swaths. They would frequently interrupt their work with frenzied bouts of lovemaking, after which they’d lie in a heap on the paint tarp, their arms and legs dotted with wallpaper backing and pink flock. She stared at the wall as if watching a television screen, deeply immersed in her DIY porn.
“Have you made some sort of discovery?” Peg said.
Allison hadn’t heard her enter the room. As she turned toward Peg she wondered which one of them would make the first move. One of them would, and probably soon. She thought it should be Peg for some reason, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d wait for that.
“You’re looking at the wallpaper like it contains hieroglyphics,” Peg continued.
Allison smiled as Peg walked toward her. “It’s just incomprehensibly ugly.”
Peg stopped an arm’s length away and peered at Allison. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely. What do you think of the house?”
Peg looked around the room. “Actually, I love it. And the double lot would be great. I just don’t know if I have the energy to take on something like this.”
Allison looked at her a moment and then moved closer. Peg could have easily wrapped her arms around her, but they stayed dangling at her sides. “What do you have the energy for, Peg?” She cupped the side of Peg’s face, gently drawing her down and kissing her lightly. “Is this something you can take on?”
Peg drew in her breath and stared at Allison for a moment before taking her in her arms and kissing her fully. The kiss deepened, their tongues explored, and as it ended, Peg kept her lips close to Allison’s. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I rear-ended your car,” she murmured.
Allison laughed and twined her fingers through Peg’s hair, drawing her down for another kiss. Now the muffled groans started as they maneuvered to put body parts in contact with other body parts. Peg pushed Allison against the wall and leaned into her, the kiss ending only when they needed air. Allison looked over her shoulder at the king bed on the other side of the room. She hesitated for no more than two seconds before whispering, “The bed.”
Peg took her by the hand and led her over. The bed was covered by an Americana bedspread, the small, hard pills of cotton engulfing the entire surface. They kissed and undressed each other and fell onto the bed. Allison pulled Peg on top of her and tried to slow the overwhelming excitement she felt. When Peg put her mouth to her breast, she wondered if she’d have an orgasm right then. She too
k Peg’s hand and moved it lower. “Please touch me. I can’t wait.”
Peg needed no urging. She touched her lightly and Allison groaned loudly and thrust toward her hand.
“More, goddamit. Please.”
Peg slid into Allison and moved down the bed as she did. Slowly, she lowered her mouth to her, and with almost no effort at all, she sent Allison into a shattering orgasm. She was like a Champagne cork, it was that hard and fast. Peg moved back up the bed and pulled Allison close. Her body felt like a sack of flour.
“You okay?” Peg asked.
“Oh, yes. But I imagine someone’s called nine one one. I wasn’t very quiet.” Allison didn’t look at all sheepish. “How are you?”
Peg pulled her a little closer. “Dumbfounded but thrilled. You can’t imagine how good you feel to me.”
They lay quietly, hands gently moving, touching. Allison raised herself on one elbow and looked at Peg. “The only thing I want to do right now is make love to you, but we need to get out of here. I could lose my license over this.”
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall at that disciplinary hearing.”
Allison laughed and pulled Peg up and off the bed. “Let’s see how fast we can get to your house.”
*
Camille sat in her car in front of the Lincoln Park house. She’d rented a sedan for the evening’s operation, as nondescript a car as possible. This was the fifth house Allison and Ryan had visited, with Camille following at a discreet distance the whole way. After days of fruitless surveillance of Allison to see whether she was seeing Ryan, Camille had given her man Sam an assignment: break into Allison’s office and find her schedule. He did and found Peg Ryan’s name entered for 5:00 Wednesday. Camille followed them to see what was going on. She was sure Allison had been lying to her about whether she was seeing Ryan.
The first houses on the schedule had been viewed quickly, but this last one was a different story. It was dark out already, her cover good enough to watch from fairly close up. Camille looked at the time and realized they’d been in there for at least half an hour. She didn’t like the feel of it. She liked it even less when she saw Allison and Ryan tumbling out of the house together. The porch light went out but she could see Allison leaning into Ryan for a kiss. They hurried to Allison’s car and drove away as Camille sat frozen in hers. She felt a sort of disequilibrium that made her queasy. She put her car into gear and headed downtown. As she drove, her pain started turning into anger, her distress into determination. Her fears had been realized. Peg Ryan was the cause of the massive amount of pain she was in, and now she would pay for it. Now she would move forward with her plan.
Chapter Five
Friday, December 5
Camille left her Gold Coast condo and drove the short way to her Loop office. Bardon Systems, Inc. occupied four floors of a mid-century high-rise looking over Millennium Park and Lake Michigan. She was in a sour mood as she rode the elevator up to her private offices on the twenty-sixth floor and walked toward her suite, which had an office, conference room, bathroom, and kitchen. From there radiated the offices and cubicles of her assistants, and the assistants to her assistants, all of whom raised their heads as Camille walked by. She didn’t acknowledge anyone.
Except for Tim. She paused in front of the glass door of his office and beckoned him to follow. He was the most important of her lieutenants, but there were others. One to coordinate her schedule, one who acted as a clearinghouse for the information sent to her from the eight divisions of her company, one who managed her charitable foundation. Camille was anything but charitable, but it made her look good, and that was the important thing.
She grabbed coffee from a fresh pot in her kitchen and settled behind her massive desk as Tim filled his cup. He was the assistant she couldn’t do without, not only because of what he did for her, but because of what he knew about her. She kept him close. They’d first met in graduate school, where they were getting advanced degrees in software engineering. They would spend time showing off their hacking skills to one another, until it became very clear that Tim was truly gifted while Camille was slightly above average. When they ran into each other years later, they both admitted to being bored to tears by conventional business. Camille had made her fortune from inventing a system to streamline oil refinement. Her business expanded from there, wildly successful by any standard. She and Tim soon developed a side company that interested her much more. Combining Camille’s contacts with Tim’s skills, they offered cyber espionage services, and they made a mint in short order. It was very cloak and dagger, with assumed identities, secure information drops, vaguely menacing negotiations. Demand was high. Camille’s most successful business was the one she couldn’t brag about.
“So what did you find?” she asked Tim.
He lowered his lanky body onto the visitor chair. He was impeccably dressed in a Hugo Boss suit and a tie the perfect width for this year’s fashion. The impression was diluted by the long frizzy ponytail that trailed halfway down his back. He refused to get rid of it. He’d always been comfortable with Camille being the boss, especially if it meant he didn’t often have to interact with people. He didn’t like people much. She didn’t like them much better.
“I was surprised,” he said. “I thought Peg Ryan would come up clean.”
Camille straightened up. “Oh, goody. I had a feeling about her. What’s the scoop?” She was excited and happy, which usually happened when she found herself with the right hammer in hand to bash the head of her opponent.
“There’s nothing we can pressure her with, at least not yet, but I discovered a few things that were interesting. She has a stellar resume—Yale Law, Supreme Court clerkship, section chief at the U.S. attorney’s office in New York.”
“She’s smart. So what? I’m pretty smart myself.” She had come to hate Peg so much that anything good said about her was irritating. “What else?”
“There’s a four-year gap between leaving the U.S. attorney’s office and joining the Mulroney law firm.”
“What was she doing?”
“That’s what I’m trying to piece together. I got hold of some of the lawyers who worked at the USDA’s office at the same time. One of them still does. They all said she was a first-rate attorney with a class A booze problem.”
Camille put her cup down and leaned forward. “Interesting. Did any of these people say why she left?”
“Nope. It could have been the drinking, of course. But one woman said it seemed her departure was random, as she put it. As far as she could tell, Ryan hadn’t fucked anything up or come to court drunk. They all knew she was a big drinker and hit on the women in the office every time they went out for drinks. But it didn’t seem to affect her job.”
“Shit. That doesn’t give us anything, does it?” She flopped back in her chair and frowned.
“There may be something else. A couple of people mentioned a guy named Jim Braddock. He hated Ryan. He thought he should have gotten the promotion to section chief while she was the golden girl who got everything she wanted. From what I heard, she was the golden girl because she won every case she was assigned. Anyway, the guy sounds like a dick. He was gunning for Ryan, trying to make the bosses aware of Ryan’s drinking, even sabotaging her cases, according to the attorney who’s still there.”
“She just up and left?” Camille started making some notes on her computer.
“Apparently. And Braddock got her job when she was gone. It was eighteen years ago. That’s all we could come up with.”
“Did you find anything outside her work life?”
“It looks like she’s sober now. I followed her from her office the other night and she went to an AA meeting. I assume that’s what it was. A bunch of losers were smoking outside the building she went in. It’s a pretty safe bet.”
“Probably, but check it out. And find this Braddock guy.”
Tim got to his feet. “Already on it. I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. He’s in private practic
e now in New Jersey, but he doesn’t spend much time in his office and he doesn’t return phone calls.”
Camille looked up at him. “Get that done. I want this to be your priority.”
Tim left the office without another word. She knew she could trust him to find what there was to find. She swiveled her chair around to stare out at Monroe Harbor where she kept a boat, thinking about the magical afternoon she’d taken Allison out on the lake.
*
Morgan drove down to Wicker Park to pick Laura up for their first date. She was terrified. Women were a big part of her life, but dating was not. Dating meant a relationship, or the expectation of one, and Morgan’s experience with relationships was dismal. There’d been only two. The first was with a woman who was overbearing and smothering, the last with one who broke her heart. She thought it unlikely Laura was like the first, but she had the potential to hurt her like the second.
Laura opened the door to her house and gave Morgan a dazzling smile. “I’m so glad to see you, Morgan. Come in.”
Morgan stayed where she was. “Did you look to see who was at the door before you opened it?”
“No, but our date was for seven and it’s exactly seven now. Who else would it be?”
“It could be a bad guy. I see a lot of them in the city.” Morgan saw the puzzled expression on Laura’s face and realized she sounded like a jerk. “I mean, I want you to be safe.”
Laura took Morgan’s arm and pulled her into the house. “I understand. I think I’ll be a much safer person for knowing you.”
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