his watch and stood up. “I'm playing squash at six o'clock tonight. If you're working late, I won't come home for dinner. Just leave a message for me at the office.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else I should know before we start the day and disappear into our separate worlds?”
He looked blank for a moment, trying to think, and then he shook his head and looked down at her, still sitting at the kitchen table. But his thoughts were already far from her. He was thinking about two new clients he wanted to approach, and a client he was planning to take away from a slightly more senior man at the agency where he worked. It was something he had done successfully before, with other accounts, and it was a modus operandi he was neither embarrassed about nor afraid of. The end always justified the means, it always had for him. Even sixteen years before when he'd aced his best friend out of the scholarship to UC Berkeley. The other boy had actually been more qualified, but Steven also knew that his friend had cheated on his very first SAT exam, and he had seen to it that the right people heard about it at the right time. No matter that his scores had been perfect ever since, and he had helped Steven prepare for every exam he'd taken junior and senior years. And they were best friends …but he had cheated after all …and they disqualified him. And Steven got the hell out of Detroit without ever looking back. He never heard from his friend again. And he had heard years before from his sister that Tom had dropped out of school and was pumping gas somewhere in the ghetto. Things worked out that way sometimes. Survival of the fittest. And Steven Townsend was fit. In every possible way. He stood looking at Adrian for a moment, and then turned and raced upstairs to shower and change before he left for the office.
She was still in the kitchen when he came back down, impeccably dressed in a khaki suit, pale blue shirt, and blue and yellow tie. With his shining dark hair, he looked like a movie star again, or a man in an ad at the very least. It always jolted Adrian a little when she looked at him, he was so incredibly handsome.
“You're looking good, kid.”
He looked pleased at the compliment, and looked her over as she stood up and picked up the tote bag she always took to work. It was a soft black leather Hermes bag she'd had for years, and like her ancient sports car, she loved it. She was wearing a navy wool skirt, a white silk blouse, and a soft white cashmere sweater knotted over her shoulder. She was wearing expensive black Italian loafers, and her whole look was of casual, understated, expensive elegance. It was a kind of casual,throwaway look, but when you looked again, it had style and whispered all the secret code words of good taste and breeding. She had a wonderful easy style, and as understated as she was, somehow everything about her still managed to be beautiful and striking. And as they left the house together, they were a handsome pair. He got in his Porsche as she climbed into the MG, and she laughed at the look on his face. It embarrassed him to be seen anywhere near her car and he had been threatening to make her use the open parking lot at the front of the complex.
“You're a snob!” She laughed at him and he shook his head and a moment later he was gone in a roar from the Porsche's powerful engine, while Adrian tied a scarf around her head, put her beloved old car in gear, and listened happily as it sputtered to life and she headed it in the direction of her office. The freeway was bumper-to-bumper by then and a few minutes later she wound up sitting in the car at a dead standstill. She wondered how much better Steven had fared, and as she thought of him, she suddenly thought of something else, something that seldom happened to her. She was late. She should have had her period two days before, but she knew it didn't mean anything. With the odd hours she worked, and the constant stress, it wasn't unusual to be
“Yes, sir. Anything else I should know before we start the day and disappear into our separate worlds?”
He looked blank for a moment, trying to think, and then he shook his head and looked down at her, still sitting at the kitchen table. But his thoughts were already far from her. He was thinking about two new clients he wanted to approach, and a client he was planning to take away from a slightly more senior man at the agency where he worked. It was something he had done successfully before, with other accounts, and it was a modus operandi he was neither embarrassed about nor afraid of. The end always justified the means, it always had for him. Even sixteen years before when he'd aced his best friend out of the scholarship to UC Berkeley. The other boy had actually been more qualified, but Steven also knew that his friend had cheated on his very first SAT exam, and he had seen to it that the right people heard about it at the right time. No matter that his scores had been perfect ever since, and he had helped Steven prepare for every exam he'd taken junior and senior years. And they were best friends …but he had cheated after all …and they disqualified him. And Steven got the hell out of Detroit without ever looking back. He never heard from his friend again. And he had heard years before from his sister that Tom had dropped out of school and was pumping gas somewhere in the ghetto. Things worked out that way sometimes. Survival of the fittest. And Steven Townsend was fit. In every possible way. He stood looking at Adrian for a moment, and then turned and raced upstairs to shower and change before he left for the office.
She was still in the kitchen when he came back down, impeccably dressed in a khaki suit, pale blue shirt, and blue and yellow tie. With his shining dark hair, he looked like a movie star again, or a man in an ad at the very least. It always jolted Adrian a little when she looked at him, he was so incredibly handsome.
“You're looking good, kid.”
He looked pleased at the compliment, and looked her over as she stood up and picked up the tote bag she always took to work. It was a soft black leather Hermes bag she'd had for years, and like her ancient sports car, she loved it. She was wearing a navy wool skirt, a white silk blouse, and a soft white cashmere sweater knotted over her shoulder. She was wearing expensive black Italian loafers, and her whole look was of casual, understated, expensive elegance. It was a kind of casual,throwaway look, but when you looked again, it had style and whispered all the secret code words of good taste and breeding. She had a wonderful easy style, and as understated as she was, somehow everything about her still managed to be beautiful and striking. And as they left the house together, they were a handsome pair. He got in his Porsche as she climbed into the MG, and she laughed at the look on his face. It embarrassed him to be seen anywhere near her car and he had been threatening to make her use the open parking lot at the front of the complex.
“You're a snob!” She laughed at him and he shook his head and a moment later he was gone in a roar from the Porsche's powerful engine, while Adrian tied a scarf around her head, put her beloved old car in gear, and listened happily as it sputtered to life and she headed it in the direction of her office. The freeway was bumper-to-bumper by then and a few minutes later she wound up sitting in the car at a dead standstill. She wondered how much better Steven had fared, and as she thought of him, she suddenly thought of something else, something that seldom happened to her. She was late. She should have had her period two days before, but she knew it didn't mean anything. With the odd hours she worked, and the constant stress, it wasn't unusual to be
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