Page 57 of Escape Girl
The next day,Sloan and I met for lunch at the Corner Bakery in the lobby of the skyscraper where Bird & Dreyer’s offices were located.
When I had explained what I wanted, Sloan hadn’t even blinked. She’d just exclaimed, “Fun!” Now, sipping her coconut mocha with extra whipped cream, she looked up from the photo of Hill I’d printed and widened her baby blues. “Here’s the thing: I’m a good actress, but I’m not very good at improvisation. Jo used to mostly script my encounters with the marks. So, what do want me to say to the jerk? What are we trying to get out of him?”
I wished I knew. “Anything. Especially about his professional background. See if you can find a reason to ask where he worked before this. Ask him what kind of cases he’s working on. Even where he went to law school or college. Social media handles.”
She nodded sagely. “Basic stats. Got it.” She got out a mirror and began to apply lipstick. A twentysomething dude walking by literally stopped in his tracks to gape at her. “Any idea what kind of character I should be? What he’ll best respond to?”
I scrunched up my nose. “I don’t think you need to be a character at all.” I waved my hands in the air over her blinding perfection. “This should be enough. What straight man wouldn’t respond to this?”
She grinned at me as though she’d been waiting for the opportunity. “Bobby didn’t.”
“Yes, he did,” I said through ground teeth. “He called me drunk in August and told me about the ‘ridiculously beautiful’ girl he’d been talking to.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “I thought we were past this. I caught him at a lonely, vulnerable moment and complimented him until he smiled. Then I practically begged for his email address. And you know what? A few emails later, he apologized for writing to me and went on and on about how much he loves you.” She sighed, a little dreamy. “It was desperately romantic.”
I looked down at the table, and the dreamy on her face faded. She gave me a speculative look. “He didn’t come into work yesterday. Or today. Is he OK?”
Nope. Not going there. If I pictured Bobby’s face from yesterday morning, a flash flood of panic threatened to snatch all the air from my lungs.
“Ooh.” Sloan’s gaze sharpened on something behind me, and I turned around to follow her gaze. “I think that might be him. With the bright red tie? It’s almost noon, so the timing fits.” She glanced down at the photo and back up at a man who was coming out of the elevator banks and laughing down at his cell phone.
He was a tall, good-looking man with longish sandy hair that was, gulp, styled almost like Bobby’s used to be. But once he was close enough to get a good look at his face, the similarity to my husband ended. As cheesy as it sounded, Bobby exuded playfulness and joy. Or at least he did until I’d crushed him into the ground.
But Hill just smirked. At his phone, at a colleague who waved hello, at the world in general.
“OK,” I said under my breath to Sloan. “You’re on.” I grabbed my stuff and moved across the room, leaving her at that particular table against the wall.
She winked at me and stood. Took off her jacket and slung it over her shoulder, revealing a short-sleeved bright teal dress. She strolled slowly to the entrance of the restaurant, her platinum hair and formfitting turquoise dress drawing every single eye in the room.
I shook my head to ward off her dazzle.Iwasn’t immune, so Hill had no chance.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, reaching out to tap his shoulder as he passed by. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but any chance you’d be willing to have a cup of coffee? To sit down in here with me for a couple of minutes? I have the most ridiculous favor to ask you.”
His mouth dropped open. He looked gratifyingly stupid. “Wh-at?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, how can I help?”
She beamed at him, and his bottom lip slacked another inch. “Do you have an iPhone charger? My phone is almost dead, and I’m waiting on a super-important call from my agent.” She pointed to her table, which was against the wall, directly over the only power outlet in the restaurant. “We could sit together and let my phone charge for a few minutes. Pretty please?”
“Of course!” he blurted, practically before she finished speaking. “No problem.”
She bounced in her heels and did an obscene little shimmy that highlighted her cleavage, and somehow managed to be adorable instead of ridiculous. “Yay!”
Hill followed Sloan to her table with his eyes on her butt. For the next ten minutes, Sloan gazed at him like he was Bruce Wayne, peppering him with questions about himself and gushing over the answers. I couldn’t hear much, but he did seem to talk a lot, so hopefully there was something useful.
Finally, Sloan did a quick tug of her left earlobe. Either he was getting too creepy or she didn’t think she could get anything else. I called her cell phone. She stood up like a rocket anddetached her phone from his charger. “My agent!” she squealed and blew Hill a kiss. “You’re a lifesaver!” With admirable skill, she fled gracefully from the restaurant before he could protest.
I caught up with her halfway down the block. She was leaning against the side of a building and grimacing as though she’d just pounded a quart of pickle juice. “Yuck,” she said plaintively. “He was really, really yuck.”
“Sorry.” I felt genuine guilt. “I owe you big-time.”
“Eh.” She shrugged and smiled at me. “What are friends for? Besides, I don’t think I accomplished our mission.”
I grabbed a legal pad out of my bag and leaned next to her, pen poised and ready to go. “Tell me everything you remember.”
Sloan closed her eyes and concentrated. “First I asked him what he did for a living. He said he worked for the best law firm in the country.”
I snorted. OK, ego. Bird & Dreyer was solid, but by most rankings they weren’t even in the top ten of the entire country.
“I asked him what kind of legal cases he worked on.” She opened her eyes long enough to roll them heavenward. “He said—and I repeat—‘the big-money cases, babe.’”
