I laughed. “Well, the sex, I’m guessing … And the wide-eyed admiration.”
Janine laughed, too. “Men are so ridiculous. Funny how you can see the absurdity of it so clearly when it’s somebody else.” She gestured to me. “Aidan is insane.” She set her glass down on the counter. “You know what? I think I need to call my lawyer. Could I use your office? I raced out without my cell phone.”
“Of course.” Letting Janine use my office for a few minutes to call a lawyer was something that I could absolutely do. I wanted to. I led her down the hall and pointed to the open door. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Is it okay if I close this—so you don’t have to hear me. I’m a phone shrieker, according to Annie.”
I could indeed hear Janine as I quickly prepared Cleo’s favorite chicken recipe from memory—rosemary and olive oil. The familiar repetition was profoundly comforting in this moment: one thing done right, done so many times, for so many years. Maybe in the end that was the most important part of being a mother: being there to do the expected thing again and again. I had gotten some of that right at least. I thought of Janine back in my office, on the phone with a divorce lawyer. Annie, the daughter she was so close to, using the same drugs that Cleo had sold. Maybe no relationship was perfect. Maybe nothing was what it seemed.
Janine’s voice was still echoing down the hall as I turned toward the stove with the chicken. Shewasshrill—Annie wasright about that. It made me like Janine a little more, this awkwardness in her otherwise flawless façade.
The wave of heat unexpectedly hit me full in the face as I slid the chicken into the oven. “Shit.” I reached for a paper towel, dampening it and pressing it to my eyes.
When I tossed it in the garbage, I noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the floor next to the trash. It hadn’t been there that morning—you noticed such things once you lived alone.
I picked up the paper and uncrumpled it.KM.It had been torn from the monogrammed pad in my office. There were two long rows of numbers in Aidan’s handwriting. He’d been in the house? In my office? He still had keys—I’d been avoiding a confrontation about getting them back. But we’d agreed he wouldn’t come in without letting me know first.
I walked down the hall toward my office, listening to see if Janine was nearly done. I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I needed to see if Aidan had left any other evidence behind of what he’d been up to.
It was quiet on the other side of the door. I pushed it open very slowly, ducking my head apologetically in case I had misinterpreted the silence and Janine was still listening to someone talk on the other end.
It took me a minute to process what I was seeing.
Janine was seated at my desk, bent toward a drawer on the right-hand side as she rifled through it. There were other drawers open, too. Lots of them. No headphones or earbuds anywhere in sight. Then I spotted Janine’s cell phone sticking out of her bag on the floor.
“Yes, yes, I understand,” she said quite loudly—as though she was on the phone, instead of looking through my things.
Then she froze. She’d noticed me, finally. Her mouth lifted slightly as she looked up. Her stare was cool as she slid closed the open drawers, one at a time. I waited for her embarrassment tosurface—I was only looking for a pen; I was curious; I’m so sorry.For her to seem flustered or contrite. Something. Instead, she leaned back in my chair and crossed her arms.
“I need that phone, Kat,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. But it hit me fast: Kyle’s phone.
“Look, Annie was arrested the other night. Obviously, it’s all some kind of misunderstanding. The lawyer I’ve got on the case says they’ll have to dismiss all the charges—unless they come up with some kind of corroborating evidence. Like the photos on Kyle’s phone.”
“Why would I have Kyle’s phone?” Denial: always the best first line of defense.
“I need to be able to protect Annie, Kat,” she pressed on, undeterred. “And, of course, I’ll make sure Cleo is protected, too. But I need that phone.”
Luckily, the phone was now on a high shelf in the closet in my bedroom, inside my Mark Cross pocketbook. The small blue square one that Cleo had always loved as a little girl.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
But Janine had been about to ask about something when we’d been at Washington Square Park, hadn’t she? Right before we’d been interrupted by Tim Lyall’s call. She’d been about to ask about the phone.
“Iknowyou have it, Kat.” Janine’s voice was trembling now with rage. “Aidan told me.”
Aidan? I’d onlyjusttold him. As I stared at her, a not-quite smile played on Janine’s lips.Aidan. Aidan and Janine.All that time they’d spent together over the years when Aidan was home in the middle of the day. The way they loved to make fun of Liam and me and our corporate selling out to pay the bills they ran up—all their inside jokes. God, I was so stupid.
“You’reHer,” I said. “You’re with Aidan.”
“Withis an overstatement,” she said, smirking. “Thatwas never true.”
The texts I’d read—about the feel of Aidan’s mouth, the one that said I was ruining Cleo—had been from Janine. I gripped the doorframe as anger flooded me. But I needed to stay focused. Janine was not today’s problem.
“Get out of my house, Janine,” I said calmly, then turned for the doorway. “Right now.”
In the kitchen, I began chopping the beans. I was going to give all my attention to what mattered, the hard conversation I needed to have with Cleo. I was going to make dinner.
