me that I had to get out of town, because Richard is dangerous and he’s targeted me.
“He gave me his phone number.”
“That’s great! Do you like him?”
Another great question. Sunni scraped the icing off her cinnamon roll and took a bite. She had gotten very little sleep the night before as her tormented mind sifted through the disparate and often conflicting tidbits of information she’d gotten from Jacob. She wanted to believe him, because that meant she could trust him, but some of the things he had said were absurd, such as the idea that she needed to leave town immediately because of Richard. Other statements, such as his claim that he hadn’t been following her, were logical, but in her heart she didn’t believe him. He had been following her, she was sure of it, she just didn’t know why. However, Isabel hadn’t asked whether she trusted him.
“Yes, I like him.”
“Are you going to call him? We could double date. After all, they know each other already.” Isabel sounded as bubbly as a freshly poured 7-Up.
“Yeah, I’ll call him, soon. When are you going on your date?”
“Tonight. Will you come over and help me find something to wear?”
“Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ve got a client here, I’ve got to go,” Sunni lied.
“Okay, come over at seven,” Isabel said.
After she hung up Sunni spent a long minute with her eyes closed, trying to massage away an impending doozy of a headache. Then she straightened up, washed down the rest of the cinnamon roll with a few swigs of sweet coffee, and turned her attention back to the computer. She had just managed to lose herself in the minutiae of art valuations when the phone rang again. She grabbed the receiver and pressed the intercom.
“Carl, I’m trying to concentrate here, just hold my calls for now,” she snapped.
“Okay, but it’s Richard Lazarus.”
She sighed heavily. “Put him through.”
“Good morning, Sunni. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
What a lovely voice he had, Sunni thought. How could someone as evil as Jacob portrayed him have a voice that soothing? “No, not at all. What can I do for you, Richard? Are you still looking for pieces for your collection?”
“Of course, but that’s not why I’m calling. It’s a beautiful day and I’m wondering what you’re doing for lunch.”
So he wanted to date both Sunni and Isabel, it appeared. Sunni let the seconds tick past as she considered her answer. She liked Richard. She was angry with Jacob, and hurt by what seemed like his rejection of her. She didn’t believe a word of what he had said about Richard.
“Sure, I’m free for lunch,” she said. “Is one o’clock okay?”
At 12:58 a Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows pulled into the no-parking zone in front of the gallery. Sunni excused herself from the visitor she’d been talking to and scurried to the back to grab her purse. Then she waved to Carl and walked out to the street. Immediately the passenger door opened and Richard emerged. He was wearing what probably passed for casual clothes in his wardrobe: woolen trousers, a button down shirt with a sweater vest over it, and one of the those Irish Donegal tweed caps worn by men on PBS mystery shows.
He took Sunni’s elbow, helping her across the sidewalk and into the car like a Boy Scout aiding an old lady. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror and nodded silently. Richard followed her into the car and gave her a radiant smile.
“So, Sunni, this has turned into a lovely day, don’t you think? I thought maybe we could have a picnic.”
A picnic? That didn’t seem like Richard’s style. A picnic was the sort of date offered by a “poor but creative” man, who then took you to Shakespeare in the park, the museum on free-Wednesday, bowling on two-for-one Tuesday. Sunni had dated men like that, and none of them remotely resembled Richard.
But she smiled and nodded. “A picnic would be lovely. ”
The chauffeur drove them all the way up
“He gave me his phone number.”
“That’s great! Do you like him?”
Another great question. Sunni scraped the icing off her cinnamon roll and took a bite. She had gotten very little sleep the night before as her tormented mind sifted through the disparate and often conflicting tidbits of information she’d gotten from Jacob. She wanted to believe him, because that meant she could trust him, but some of the things he had said were absurd, such as the idea that she needed to leave town immediately because of Richard. Other statements, such as his claim that he hadn’t been following her, were logical, but in her heart she didn’t believe him. He had been following her, she was sure of it, she just didn’t know why. However, Isabel hadn’t asked whether she trusted him.
“Yes, I like him.”
“Are you going to call him? We could double date. After all, they know each other already.” Isabel sounded as bubbly as a freshly poured 7-Up.
“Yeah, I’ll call him, soon. When are you going on your date?”
“Tonight. Will you come over and help me find something to wear?”
“Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ve got a client here, I’ve got to go,” Sunni lied.
“Okay, come over at seven,” Isabel said.
After she hung up Sunni spent a long minute with her eyes closed, trying to massage away an impending doozy of a headache. Then she straightened up, washed down the rest of the cinnamon roll with a few swigs of sweet coffee, and turned her attention back to the computer. She had just managed to lose herself in the minutiae of art valuations when the phone rang again. She grabbed the receiver and pressed the intercom.
“Carl, I’m trying to concentrate here, just hold my calls for now,” she snapped.
“Okay, but it’s Richard Lazarus.”
She sighed heavily. “Put him through.”
“Good morning, Sunni. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
What a lovely voice he had, Sunni thought. How could someone as evil as Jacob portrayed him have a voice that soothing? “No, not at all. What can I do for you, Richard? Are you still looking for pieces for your collection?”
“Of course, but that’s not why I’m calling. It’s a beautiful day and I’m wondering what you’re doing for lunch.”
So he wanted to date both Sunni and Isabel, it appeared. Sunni let the seconds tick past as she considered her answer. She liked Richard. She was angry with Jacob, and hurt by what seemed like his rejection of her. She didn’t believe a word of what he had said about Richard.
“Sure, I’m free for lunch,” she said. “Is one o’clock okay?”
At 12:58 a Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows pulled into the no-parking zone in front of the gallery. Sunni excused herself from the visitor she’d been talking to and scurried to the back to grab her purse. Then she waved to Carl and walked out to the street. Immediately the passenger door opened and Richard emerged. He was wearing what probably passed for casual clothes in his wardrobe: woolen trousers, a button down shirt with a sweater vest over it, and one of the those Irish Donegal tweed caps worn by men on PBS mystery shows.
He took Sunni’s elbow, helping her across the sidewalk and into the car like a Boy Scout aiding an old lady. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror and nodded silently. Richard followed her into the car and gave her a radiant smile.
“So, Sunni, this has turned into a lovely day, don’t you think? I thought maybe we could have a picnic.”
A picnic? That didn’t seem like Richard’s style. A picnic was the sort of date offered by a “poor but creative” man, who then took you to Shakespeare in the park, the museum on free-Wednesday, bowling on two-for-one Tuesday. Sunni had dated men like that, and none of them remotely resembled Richard.
But she smiled and nodded. “A picnic would be lovely. ”
The chauffeur drove them all the way up
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