Page 99 of A Matter of Time

“Oh, so, what? I’m the wicked witch because I chose to be a housewife?”

“That’s not what I said. You just gotta⁠—”

“C’mon, Mike,” she huffed at him. “She’s a prissy, snooty little⁠—”

But she shut up instantly as the swinging door opened and a woman leaned into the kitchen. The lady in question was stunning but far too immaculately dressed for a simple Sunday dinner in the suburbs, with perfect makeup and designer shoes.

“Hi,” she said softly, glancing around the room. “I just—Jory?”

I forced the smile. “Hello, Miss Ralston.”

She strode into the kitchen, her entire focus on me. “How are you?”

“Good, thank you. And you?”

“I’m well,” she said, her stiletto slingbacks clicking across the linoleum floor as she reached me. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, all the rest of it pulled up into a French twist. If Barbie could come to life, she would look like Paige Ralston. But not Malibu Barbie or something simple like that. Paige would be the expensive kind, the one you never took out of the box. She was a collector’s item—flawless, perfect, with beauty that was unattainable unless you, too, were encased in plastic.

“You look well,” I said to make conversation.

She bit her bottom lip, and I saw her take a quick breath. “How is Dane?”

“He’s good.”

“I was hoping to see him at the AIDS benefit.”

What she had hoped was to be the highest bidder at the bachelor auction and thus win the privilege of going to dinner with him. I’d forgotten about her when I was thinking of women who would have paid to be alone with him. He had definitely shortchanged the charity by just giving them a check for ten grand. He could have easily made them double that amount if he’d bothered to show up.

“He made a sizable donation,” I told her. “But you know he hates that kind of stuff.” She nodded, even though she had no idea what I was talking about. This, then, was why he had walked away from her. She loved being rich and all the social events that came along with it. Dane did only those things that were necessary. They could not have been more different.

“I haven’t seen him in months.”

I smiled, trying not to squirm.

“Will you give him my best when you see him tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She turned and left the room, and all eyes were on me.

“Jory, is it?” Michael asked me as he came closer.

“Yes.”

“You know I met Paige Ralston after she came from Harcourt, Brown, and Cogan. Do you work for Dane Harcourt?”

“Yes.”

“Are you his assistant?”

“I am. Are you an architect too?”

“Yes, though not in Dane Harcourt’s league.”

“I’m sure you’re brilliant.” I gave him my automatic response, because people complimented my boss all the time.

“Well, thank you, but your boss is amazing. I actually tried to get a job there, but he said my sketches were rudimentary and unimaginative.”

I squinted at him. “Were you there before lunch?”