Curses.
“No,” Merritt sighed. “Do you?”
Huong made a face of such pure incredulity that Merritt thought she might really believe Merritt had lost her mind.
“Message received,” she said, angry at herself for being the kind of person who hated allcar stuff.
The door opened again, and Moishe and Diana wandered out.
“What’s wrong?” Moishe asked.
“Her car is dead, and she has no idea how to jump it.”
“Thank you, Huong,” Merritt sighed. “Moishe, can you...?”
“I’m afraid I don’t drive,” Moishe said, genuinely apologetic.
“No problem. I can always walk.”
She typed Whit’s address into the phone, remembering that he seemed to have walked to the bookstore the first time she saw him there.
The house was five miles away.
“Jesus,” she said under her breath.
“Where are you walking?” Diana asked.
Merritt sighed. “Nowhere, apparently.”
“Wherewereyou going to walk? I’m just leaving. I’ll give you a ride.”
Merritt had carefully avoided going into much detail as to why she needed afternoons off. She squeezed her hands into fists as she spoke.
“I’m going to Whit Longacre’s house.”
“On adate?” Huong spat out with something like violence.
“No,” Merritt said quickly. “God, Huong. I’m helping him with some things. Purely business.”
Huong’s face did not change.
“Well,” Diana said through a lofty smile Merritt would have enjoyed flicking with her finger, “look atyou. I can take you, but let’s be quick. I have to be at the salon at two.”
Diana escorted her farther down the brick-paved road to her car, a tricked-out silver Lexus sports car that confirmed Merritt’ssuspicion that the bookstore was more of a passion project for Diana than a required source of income.
“So what is it exactly that you’re working on with Whit Longacre?” Diana asked, pulling the car out of its spot against the curb.
Merritt clenched her teeth, frustrated with herself for not coming up with a lie before now.
“Just some... copy,” she said lamely. “Paperwork stuff. Pretty boring.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Diana said, and Merritt had no idea if she was being sarcastic. “How did you get connected with him? He’s become very reclusive.”
“Well, his wife died,” Merritt said, unable to stop herself. But Diana looked unfazed.
“Yes, well,” she said as she signaled, “still, he wasted no time hiring himself a young,attractivewoman to help. Despite having been an author for years, writing all those books assoloaffairs.”
“Oh, gross, Diana.”
