18
SALINGER
Aaron is waiting at the bar. He’s early.
I was hoping to beat him there so I could talk to Mandy first. I should have had her meet me at my penthouse, but I was afraid if I pushed her too much, she might bail. I have to keep my foot on the gas just enough to keep her under control but not enough to drive us off a cliff.
“Where is she?” No greeting, no nothing from Aaron.
Mandy better not fuck this up for me.
“She’s coming,” I say.
From the set of Aaron’s face, it is clear he does not believe me. The insurance executive doesn’t make small talk or do chitchat.
The restaurant is one of those Seattle specialties. Everyone is so in love with their dogs that they bring them everywhere, including high-end whisky bars. Dogs millaround our feet. The big ones seem more well-behaved and crouch under small round wooden tables. The little dogs are all over the place. A Chihuahua hops over my foot.
“I hate this city,” Aaron says flatly.
A miniature poodle sniffs my ankle—the dog’s owner calls to it drunkenly from across the room. Suddenly, an oversize corgi comes barreling at me, barking its head off. The poodle yelps and flees.
Pepper looks up at me on stubby legs, panting, then flops down on my feet.
Aaron raises an eyebrow.
Mandy is hovering near the entry, fussing with her enormous black purse. She’s in a short, plain black dress, one of those fifties ones with a full skirt and a short-sleeved-shirt top that she’s left partially unbuttoned. Her hair frames her face.
Shaking off Pepper, who makes a disgruntled noise, I cross the room. I grab Mandy’s bare arm. Her skin is soft and yielding under my fingers.
“Is this what you’re wearing? Did you buy that at Walmart?”
“There is nothing wrong with Walmart, and I bought it at Target, for your information.” She smooths the skirt. “This is my lucky dress.”
Her black sandals are scuffed.
“They sell bottles of whisky here for a hundred grand. How much did you spend on that dress?”
“It was on sale.” She’s stubborn. “I bought it for fifteen dollars.” She sidesteps me and walks into the bar.
I trail her. “If you didn’t have anything acceptable to wear, you should have used the company card to purchase something.”
Mandy inclines her head. There’s a dog humping one of the chair legs. “I think you’re overreacting, Salinger.”
She sees Aaron.
“Mr. Richmond, hi!” she gushes. Is she blushing? “Salinger didn’t tell me you were going to be at the meeting.”
Mr. I’m a Rational Corporate Operative goes still. Aaron’s eyes flick down to the cleavage nestled in the unbuttoned V of Mandy’s black dress then quickly back up to her face.
Asshole.
Aaron clears his throat. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
He had met my assistant before when he came to my office, but she wasn’t in a dress, just her normal shapeless clothes festooned with coffee stains and crumbs. He’s never seen her like this.
And he never will again.
Mandy tucks one of her curls behind her ear and beams at him. “Aww, you were?”
