by Margaret
“We can, and we will,” said Zanus.
There was something odd about his voice. It had a hard quality to it. Rachel was suddenly chilled. She reached down and started to pull up the blanket.
“Allow me, darling.” Zanus took the blanket out of her hands, arranged it around her shoulders. He eyed her. “You’re not having second thoughts about this, are you?”
“You do know that what you’re wanting me to do isn’t ethical,” she said.
“Bah! People do this everyday and they almost always get away with it, right?” He seemed to have read her thoughts.
“Well, yes,” she admitted slowly.
“And these people make lots of money, don’t they?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you want a seat on the exchange, right? You want to be on your own. Or do you want to continue working for Freeman? Making money for the firm so that he looks good, while he threatens to have you fired every other week. You know he claims you are his protégé, that he taught you everything.”
“No!” Rachel was indignant.
“He says he is your mentor. Everything you do, you ask his advice first.”
“Ask his advice!” Rachel sat up, threw off the blanket. “He’s a moron! I wouldn’t ask his advice on what to have for lunch, much less anything to do with commodities—”
“There, there. Calm down,” Zanus said. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I’d known how upset it would make you. Of course I don’t believe him. After all, it’s you I’m offering to purchase a seat on the exchange for. Not him.”
Rachel calmed down and was even able to laugh at herself. But she was now determined to leave the firm and Mr. Freeman and set up on her own.
“I get a seat on the exchange,” said Rachel, reaching out to caress Zanus’s hand. “What do you get?”
“Besides lots of money?” he asked, teasing.
“Yes, besides that. You don’t need me to make money for you, after all,” said Rachel and she was suddenly serious.
“You’ve done very well for me, my dear. But as for what I get, I can claim that I discovered you. Freeman and those other idiots on the floor work with you everyday and they missed what I didn’t. I found you. And I’ll take my finder’s fee, as well.”
This is more like it, Rachel thought. She felt comfortable and very un confused with Zanus. No sudden lurches of her heart. No twisting of the stomach. Just a mild flutter of the pulse now and then. No mystery. Zanus was ambitious and decisive. She liked that about him.
“So, we start Monday,” Rachel said. “I don’t have a Globex system at my apartment, so I’ll have to use those on the floor of the Merc. I’ll stay after the market closes.”
“That won’t draw attention?” Zanus asked.
“No, lots of traders do it,” said Rachel, shrugging. “And if Freeman says anything, I’ll tell him I’m doing what he asked—taking care of his favorite client.”
Zanus smiled and kissed her.
After the brandy, he took her home. They kissed again in the car and she could tell he was hoping she would invite him upstairs.
She thought she was going to, but when they pulled up in front of the building and he exited the car to help her out, she realized that she didn’t really want to go to bed with him again, not until she was certain of her feelings about him. She couldn’t think of any way out of it, however, without hurting his feelings and she didn’t want to hurt him.
“Would you like to come up for a drink?” she asked, then gave him an out. “I’ll understand if you’re too tired. I’m kind of tired myself—”
“On the contrary,” he said. “I feel exhilarated.”
He told the limo driver to go home. Oh, well, Rachel thought. So you have meaningless sex and he makes you a delicious high-calorie breakfast. It’s only one night…
They walked up the stairs together, Zanus holding her hand.
“Will Derek be here tonight?” he asked, and his voice had that cold, hard quality to it again. He was looking at her very strangely as he asked the question.
Rachel started to say no, he had the night off, but then realized that she should not seem to be quite so knowledgeable about the doorman.
“I don’t know,” she said airily. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t on duty when I left.”
“We shall see,” said Zanus.
But Derek wasn’t around. Mike was on duty, if you could call it that. He was slumped over with his head on the desk. Rachel had to use her key to let herself and Zanus in. They walked past Mike, who continued to snooze, and entered the elevator.
“Oh, I have to tell you,” said Rachel, “I now have a cat. I hope you’re not allergic.” She was almost hoping he was. She was feeling less and less eager to go through with this.
“On the contrary,” said Zanus. “I adore cats.”
As she unlocked the door, Rachel called for Sampson, but didn’t hear a reply. She walked to the kitchen to fetch the brandy and Zanus entered the living room.
“Is Sampson the cat?” he asked.
“Yes, I named him after the story about the cat and the church mice. He’s a stray I picked up today. He appears to have made himself quite at home here. I think I’ll keep him.”
Rachel brought out the brandy and sat on the couch with Zanus beside her. Relaxing, he put his arm around her.
“It’s strange of him not to come—” she began.
Like a shot out of the dark, Sampson leapt up from the back of the couch. Spitting and hissing, he landed on Zanus’s head and dug in his claws.
Swearing, Zanus seized hold of the frenzied cat, dragged him off him, and tossed him halfway across the living room.
Sampson landed hard on his side, skidded into a table leg.
“Oh, my god!” Rachel cried.
She ran over to the cat. Sampson lay still a moment, stunned.
Sick with worry, Rachel went to pick him up. Before she could reach him, Sampson was back on his feet, hissing and glaring at Zanus with narrowed eyes, his tail puffed up and his back arched.
Rachel eyed him. He didn’t look as if he was hurt. She looked back at Zanus, saw him wiping blood off his forehead. Rachel felt a sudden wild desire to burst out laughing. Here, she’d been worried about the cat!
“Sampson, you bad cat! I’m so sorry.” Rachel gasped, embarrassed. She caught hold of Sampson by the scruff of his neck and, ignoring his yowls of indignation, picked him up. “I can’t imagine what got into him! Are you okay?”
She hauled Sampson, hissing and growling, into in the laundry room, where he had his food and litter box, and shut the louvered doors. “There. He can’t get out.”
Nothing daunted Sampson; he could still be heard growling and scratching at the door.
Rachel hurried back to the living room.
“I have some ointment,” she said. “Do you need a bandage?”
Zanus frowned. “No, I fought him off in time. I do think he meant to kill me, though.”
He was silent while drinking his brandy. Rachel sipped at hers. When he reached out for her, she stiffened in his arms. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t tonight. I think I’m coming down with a cold. I feel feverish.”
He put his hand to her forehead. “You do feel a little warm. I will say good night to you here. Have a good night, sweet dreams. I hope you feel better. I’ll let myself out.”
Zanus rose to his feet and walked out of her apartment, shutting the door behind him.
Rachel wasn’t really coming down with a cold. She had told the fib because she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings. But now she was afraid she’d made him mad.
She couldn’t imagine that he was upset about Sampson. But then, the cat had made him look foolish. Zanus didn’t have a sense of humor; she already knew that. And he really shouldn’t have been that rough. Sampson hadn’t hurt him all that much.
A pitiful wail came from the laundry room, along with a drumming sound. She went to the laundry room, opened the door.
Sa
mpson came dashing out, all furred up, and ran straight to the living room.
“Don’t worry,” she called after the cat. “He’s gone. The only guy I’m sleeping with tonight is you. And, what have you got against Zanus anyway?” she demanded, as Sampson came dancing back to her. “Don’t look so proud of yourself. What you did was very bad.”
She kissed the cat on his head. Then she sighed and held him close.
“I’m about to do something I’m not particularly proud of, Sampson, but it means I’m going to be in de pen dent. I won’t have to work for anyone anymore. Especially Freeman.”
She cuddled the cat and rocked him.
“I’ve been a good girl for a long time. And where has it got me? Making lots of money for other people who don’t appreciate it. So now I’m going to give being bad a try.”
The next morning, Derek reluctantly went to take Sampson for his walk while Rachel slept. Opening the door, he found the cat limping but triumphant.
“What happened to you?” Derek asked.
“I got a piece of him, Derek!” Sampson announced proudly. “Did you see those claw marks on his cheek? Oh, I forgot. You weren’t on duty last night.” Sampson looked disappointed.
“I saw Zanus and the bloody marks.” Derek smiled. “I thought maybe he’d cut himself shaving.”
“That was me!” Sampson purred and then winced. “He paid me back, though. He pulled me off him and launched me. I banged into the cabinet and bruised my leg. My ribs hurt on one side, too.”
“And Rachel? How did she react?”
“She was upset,” Sampson said. “But Zanus was all smooth.” Sampson snorted. “I nearly tossed up a fur ball.”
Derek was grim. “What did Rachel say when he hurt you?”
“She wasn’t happy. You notice he left early? She told him she wasn’t feeling good. And I got some extra tuna after he left. I did find out one thing,” the cat added more somberly. “He’s asked her do some illegal trades for him. Well, not totally illegal. That’s what Rachel keeps saying.”
“I don’t know what that means,” said Derek, frustrated.
“Me neither. But the archangels will. Tell William I’ll have the info for him tomorrow. Rachel’s doing the first one today.”
“I’ll let William know.”
Then Derek did something he never thought he’d ever do. He reached out to pet Sampson on the head.
“For a cherub, you’re pretty gutsy,” he told the cat in admiration. “I might consider recommending you for promotion to warrior angel.”
“That would be great! Thanks,” said Sampson, pleased. He nuzzled Derek’s hand, then winced again. “Uh, go easy on the ribs…”
Sunday night Rachel had gone to bed eager and excited to make this daring and risky venture. Gambling with money wasn’t new to her; buying and selling futures was always a gamble.
In the morning, after a restless night’s sleep, she was less enthused. She wasn’t just gambling with money, she was gambling with her career, maybe even her freedom. She told herself over and over that the trades weren’t exactly illegal; they were just frowned upon. The likelihood of her being caught was low and that was balanced by the fact that the likelihood of her making lots of money was high.
She waited nervously all day for the phone call from Zanus’s friend. When an unfamiliar number came up on her cell phone, she hesitated, and then answered. A strange-sounding male voice discussed some trades with her and told her to proceed. After the market closed, she went to the bank of computers and made the trades.
There. She’d done it. There was no going back now.
Zanus called her the next night and invited her out to dinner. He took her to a fabulous restaurant, but all he talked about was how much money she had made for him. He invited himself up to her apartment for a drink, but he didn’t send away the limo. He stayed about an hour, talking about the financial markets, especially foreign markets, and the deals she was making for his “friend.” Then he gave her a kiss and left, saying something to the effect that they both had to be up early in the morning.
He took her out again the night after and the night after that and this developed into a routine. They would go out to dinner, return to her apartment, discuss what she would do for his friend the next day, and he would leave. He would always kiss her goodbye, but he never moved beyond that. She came to realize that he was leaving their sex life up to her. She was glad, in a way, but again she couldn’t help but feel he was using her.
And as if this wasn’t tense enough, her cat made it clear that he detested Zanus. Every time Zanus came up to her place, Sampson never lost an opportunity to scratch, bite, hiss at or otherwise mal-treat the man. Rachel was amazed at the creative lengths Sampson went to in order to get at Zanus. One night, after Rachel had shut him up in the laundry room, Sampson leaped up, pulled down on the door handle, let himself out, and went straight for Zanus.
Zanus never hurt Sampson again, but Rachel could tell he was starting to run out of patience. She had to buy a lock to install on the laundry room door.
She didn’t see much of Derek. There was time for nothing more than a quick “good morning” as she left for work, and she was worn out and too weary to indulge in flirting with the handsome doorman when she came home. She would give him a wan smile and ask about Sampson. He would tell her they’d had a nice walk in the park and that would be that. She did notice that he seemed to be concerned about her and several times he tried to move the conversation beyond walking her cat, but she feared they were heading in dangerous territory and she excused herself and hurried off. He and Zanus exchanged baleful glances when Zanus went up with her to her apartment, but, fortunately, neither said anything, at least in her presence.
The following Sunday night, Rachel dined with the ladies. She hadn’t felt like going, but Kim had persuaded her. Well, to be honest, Kim had practically forced her.
“We’re all worried about you,” Kim had told her. “You’ve skipped out on us the last two weeks. We want to know what is going on.”
The problem was, Rachel couldn’t tell them.
“Well, so what is new in the Derek-Zanus-Rachel love triangle? Any more brawls?” Lana asked as she poured the wine.
Rachel picked up her glass, but she didn’t drink. “I don’t suppose we could change the subject?”
Her friends exchanged glances.
“What is it, honey?” Beth asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m starting to have second thoughts about Zanus,” said Rachel.
“I knew it! It’s Derek. Did you sleep with him?” Lana asked eagerly.
“Any man who takes you to lunch in the park and talks to you about courtly love is a man you should not let get away,” Beth added.
They waited for Rachel to laugh and she did manage a smile, but it didn’t last long. Again, they exchanged glances.
“So what’s the matter with Zanus?”
“His teeth are too white? His shoes too shiny?”
“Third nipple. He’s got a third nipple?” Beth quipped.
“No, it’s the diamond bracelet he gave you. It’s too heavy. It makes your arm hurt holding it up. Wait! I’ve got it! His sheets are only six hundred thread count, instead of a thousand?”
Rachel said nothing.
“We’re working hard here, honey,” said Beth. “You need to give us something.”
“We’re starting to really get worried,” Kim said.
Rachel had to tell them something. “Look, I know it sounds silly, but Zanus doesn’t show any interest in me. Not really. He’s never once asked me anything about my family. Sometimes I wonder if he really cares about me at all.”
Or if he’s just using me, she added silently.
“Men have a habit of giving expensive gifts to women they don’t care about,” said Beth. “They plan romantic dinners for them and take them out almost every night of the week. I’d like to have a man not care about me like that.”
Rachel sighed. “I s
aid it sounded silly.” She gulped down the glass of wine in one swallow.
Lana, Beth, and Kim all looked at her, then at each other.
“You haven’t had anyone in your life for a long time now, Rachel,” said Lana, pouring more wine. “Maybe you’re just scared. You’re searching for something to be wrong with him.”
“Yeah,” Kim agreed. “Maybe you should just let it be what it will be for a time. Don’t analyze the poor man too much.”
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens.”
She wished she could tell them about the unethical trades. But she didn’t want to and that in itself made her uncomfortable. They always shared everything—good and bad. Never any secrets. Why didn’t she tell them? She told herself it was because they wouldn’t understand. Whenever Rachel started talking business, they rolled their eyes and teased her. But she knew, deep down, it was because she was ashamed. They would be shocked and they’d try to talk her out of it.
“Hey, sweetie, I’m talking!” Beth waved her salad fork at her. “I think Lana’s wrong. I think you should listen to your intuition. I mean, really, how much do you know about this guy? Do you even know how he made his money?”
“No, not exactly,” Rachel admitted. “He keeps his business very private. Not just from me, but from everyone.”
“But he should tell you. You should be his confidante,” Beth argued.
“Aren’t we jumping the gun a bit here?” Lana chimed in. “Maybe he’s just one of those people who likes to keep his business and private life separate—at least in the beginning of a relationship? I mean, what’s the rush to reveal every little detail right away? Rachel will learn all of that stuff soon enough. I, for one, wouldn’t be all that eager to find out all of his bad habits and neuroses.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Rachel pleaded.
“Fine,” said Beth with a wink and a wicked grin. “Tell us more about the dreamy doorman who saved you from a fate worse than death!”
“He saved me from a teenage purse snatcher,” said Rachel.
“What ever!” Beth waved it away with a dinner roll.