Bond Girl (18 page)

“Unfortunately, no. I'm going to Boston.”

I felt my shoulders slump in disappointment, but I tried to stay cheery. “What's in Boston?”

“I have a meeting Monday morning, but one of my buddies from school lives there so I'm going to go hang with him for the weekend. I'll take the shuttle back on Monday night.”

“I didn't know you covered anyone in Boston.”

“I just picked up a hedge fund,” he said casually.

“Ahh, well, that's good; at least you'll get to mix some business with pleasure.”

“I thought we were already doing that.”

“Good point.”

My phone beeped. A text message. I looked at my watch. It was almost midnight. I knew it would be from Rick before I even read it. No one else would be texting me this late on a weeknight.

SMS from Kieriakis, Rick:

Why didn't you say good-bye before you left?

Original.
Christ, Heidi Fleiss got more professional text messages than I did. I threw my phone back in my bag without saying a word.

Will smiled. “It's getting late,” he said reluctantly as he ran his hand through his windblown hair.

“I hate to leave.” I sighed.

“We can come back another time.”

“Good. Tell your friend he's forbidden from moving.”

“I'll do that.”

“Do you mind dropping me off at home?”

“I wasn't kidding, I really am coming to your place.”

“Okay. Just remember that I don't have a view.”

“The firehouse isn't bad if you don't mind being woken up by sirens at three
A.M.
when a bodega's on fire. I don't know how you stand it every night.”

“Yeah, I should have thought that through a little better. Sometimes I just get so into something I ignore all the pitfalls. Apartments in the Village being one of them apparently.”
Guys being another,
I caught myself thinking.

Will smiled and wrapped his arm around my waist as we descended the stairs.

Eleven

The Petting Zoo

I
t took me two months to finally unpack everything and feel settled in my apartment in the West Village. Liv was right. If you were going to have a guy in your life, he really should be able to help you move. Will had definitely dropped the ball in helping me pack, but he was a huge help in the
un
packing process. He hooked up all my electronics, hung pictures, and assembled a new TV stand for me. I appreciated the help and was especially happy that Will was becoming a bigger part of my life. By August, the place finally felt like home, and I was sure I had made the right decision in stretching myself a bit in rent to move downtown. My commute was shorter, my apartment was bigger, and I was getting more sleep once I adjusted to the fire engines. I saw my friends less than I had when Liv and I lived together, but I was happy. For a few reasons.

“Oh good, you're both here,” Chick said to Will and me as we stood chatting by my desk. “Are you guys free this weekend?”

“I'm around. Why, what's up?” I said. It was the dead of summer, and I should have had some fun weekend plans to look forward to, but I didn't. Annie and Liv were in the Hamptons for the weekend, and I had opted not to go so that I could enjoy some quality time with my new apartment. And I hoped, some quality time with Will, too.

“Me too,” Will said. “I have plans on Friday night but otherwise I'm free. Unless, you want me to work, in which case I'm booked solid.” I wondered who he had plans with. I wanted to kick myself for not making it sound like I, too, was busy.

“Saturday afternoon we're having a birthday party for my three-year-old, Gracie. The wife is getting a petting zoo and some other bullshit. Both of you should come. Get the address of my house in Westchester from Nancy, and get her to book you a town car, too. The party starts at one.”

Before I could think of a reason why I couldn't go, I heard Will answer for both of us. “Great, we'll be there.” Now,
that
was interesting. Since when did we become a “we”?

“Are any of the other guys going?” Will asked.

“I invited a few of them, and their families. Most of them can't come because they have things to do with their kids this weekend. I know you don't have any kids of your own, at least not any that you recognize, but there will be a bar so you should be fine.” Will laughed and went back to his desk.

“Looking forward to it, boss.” I said. The truth was that I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do less than spend my Saturday watching a bunch of toddlers pet goats in Westchester. But there was no way I could miss it. Plus, it was a chance to be with Will on a weekend, which wasn't a bad thing. Although I could have done without the goats.

MSG FROM PATRICK, WILLIAM:

A—

I'll pick you up at 12:30. I don't know what you're supposed to buy for a three-year-old girl so I'll leave that up to you. Just make sure you sign my name on the card and let me know how much I owe you.

Two hours alone in a car with Will wouldn't be the worst way to spend an afternoon. I figured I'd better do some online research on what was hot on the three-year-old circuit. The last thing I wanted was to give Chick's daughter a lame birthday present.

As I opened the Toys “R” Us website I heard Marchetti's voice boom behind me. “The cookies are in! Sorry, I know they were due in July but it took me a month to get them in here.”

The cookies! It had been four months and I had completely forgotten about them. I watched in amusement as Billy and three other colleagues approached Will's desk carrying huge stacks of cookies, dozens of boxes.

“Okay, boys, drop them here. Willy, you're the top purchaser this year. My daughter, Sarah, thanks you for your help. She loves her scooter.”

Will stared at the cookies, completely bewildered. “Wait, Billy, there has to be a mistake. These aren't all mine. I only ordered eight boxes!” Marchetti's helpers continued to drop stacks of cookies at Will's feet. Exasperated, he asked bluntly, “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean? Of course they're yours. I have the form right here.”

Will snatched the order form from his hand. “Someone's fucking dead. Who did this?” he asked as he waved the form in the air. “Own up to it; who did this? Reese! This has your name all over it!”

Reese strolled over. “What are you bitching about? I didn't do anything.”

“Someone turned my order for eight boxes into an order for eighty boxes! What the fuck am I going to do with eighty boxes of cookies?” Billy dropped the last two stacks on the floor.

“You owe me $346. You can write me a check, cool?”

“No. Not cool. Uncool. I want to know who's responsible for me being out $346 on cookies!”

I stayed silent, pretending to examine my nails.

Reese was the first one to catch on. “Holy shit, sugar!” He laughed. “Did you do that? That's fucking classic!”

“You didn't!” Will ran over to my desk. “You didn't do this!”

“The student has become the master,” Reese said as he bowed in reverence. “You're my hero.” My whole body trembled with laughter. It felt good to be on the other side of the joke for once.

“You're so dead, Alex! What the hell am I supposed to do with mountains of Thin Mints and twenty boxes of peanut butter sandwich cookies that I don't even like?”

“It's official, Girlie-san: you're now my favorite person on the floor. Why haven't I ever thought of doing that?” Drew asked as he chewed a Samoa.

“I seriously have to pay for these?” Will asked.

“It's not the Girl Scouts' fault that Alex screwed you like a ten-dollar hooker. Pay up! Oh man, wait until everyone hears about this,” Chick said as he beamed.

“Be afraid, Alex. Be very afraid. I'm going to get you for this!”

“I look forward to it,” I said flirtatiously. “Can I have a box of Thin Mints? You seem to have some to spare.”

He tossed a box at my head. “Choke on them!”

MSG FROM PATRICK, WILLIAM:

I can't believe you had the balls to do that! It's a good thing I like you or I'd ruin your life.

MSG FROM GARRETT, ALEX:

I couldn't resist. Can we still be friends?

MSG FROM PATRICK, WILLIAM:

I'll think about it. I might have to come up with a way for you to make it up to me.

I hope so,
I thought to myself. That was the point.

W
hat did we get her anyway?” Will read messages on his BlackBerry as we sat in the back of the town car on our way to Gracie Ciccone's birthday party. I hadn't been sure what to wear for the occasion, the guest of honor wearing Huggies Pull-Ups and all. I decided on black pants and a pink silk top. Will pushed the sleeves of his yellow Polo shirt up to his elbows and smoothed his hands across his faded jeans.

“We got her a princess trunk with a bunch of dresses and shoes and wigs and stuff inside, so she can dress up like any Disney princess she wants.”

“What the hell is a Disney princess?”

“You know, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Belle from
Beauty and the Beast
?”

“Ahhh, gotcha. I was always a Tigger fan myself.”

“Hey, I called you last night. I left you a voice mail. Did you get it?” I tried not to sound annoyed, but the truth was his phone habits—or lack thereof—were driving me crazy. Picking up a phone was not difficult. We did it hundreds of times during the day.

“Sorry, yeah. I had it on silent, so I didn't see it until this morning. What did you want?”

“Nothing really. I just wanted to let you know that I got a card.” And then, I couldn't help myself. “You never answer your phone.”

Without missing a beat, Will said, “Thanks for dealing with the gift. Sorry I didn't call you back.”

“No biggie,” I lied.
You never call me back.

I looked out the window as we drove past the beautiful suburban homes. Two kids who looked to be about twelve or thirteen walked on the sidewalk, each of them with a shiny Dalmatian on a leash. It occurred to me that these dogs probably lived better lives than most people. Then, a different thought occurred to me.

“Oh God,” I gasped, squeezing Will's leg in fear. I was prepared to deal with Rick. I had been preparing myself since Chick's invitation, figuring he would be there. I wasn't prepared for Cruella. “Is Cruella going to be here, too? Am I going to have to spend the next few hours dodging both her
and
Rick in Chick's backyard?”

“No way. She and Chick don't socialize. You only have one asshole to worry about this afternoon. Don't worry.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way I could handle both of them without my brain exploding. The driver slowed in front of a large Tudor-style home on multiple acres of property. Two valets directed our driver to a makeshift parking field a few blocks away. Pink balloons bounced against each other from the black mailbox at the bottom of the walk, and the children's squeals were audible from the street.

“Whatever happened to simple birthday parties? I had pin the tail on the donkey and ice cream cake. I got screwed.”

“I don't think I even had birthday parties. But this is Chick, and he doesn't do anything half-assed.”

“Good point.”

Will pinched my elbow as we walked up the flagstone path and rang the doorbell. A young Hispanic woman answered the door. She took the gift from Will and instructed us to follow her as she led us through the foyer and into a mammoth kitchen, which was bustling with caterers, servers, and nannies. There were stainless steel Viking appliances everywhere and side-by-side dishwashers, which I'm sure came in handy when the Ciccones entertained. Pots and pans in every size possible hung from a brass rack suspended over the center island, and two large KitchenAid mixers were visible through glass-doored cabinets. French doors opened out onto a patio and an expansive backyard.

We stepped outside, into the mass of people mingling on the patio, and the housekeeper added our gift to a pile of presents on a rectangular table. We followed her onto the lawn, where we were immediately met by a waitress offering us champagne. I gladly accepted.

“I'll wait for a beer, thanks,” Will replied politely. “Is it just me, or is there something effeminate about a man drinking champagne in the middle of the afternoon?”

“You're right. Chick would probably make some comment about you drinking a girlie drink. Beer's a safer choice.”

Will quickly grabbed a beer out of a cooler as I scanned the crowd of men standing at the bar and spotted a few familiar faces. T.C. was there, working the crowd. I wondered which one of the ladies on the lawn was unfortunate enough to be his wife. Rick was mingling with a heavyset blond woman who once upon a time had probably been quite beautiful but who hadn't aged well. I tried to figure out which one of the preppy twin-set-clad women was Mrs. Ciccone, but it was impossible—they all looked alike.

Swell.

Scattered across the lawn were large round tables covered in alternating pink and white tablecloths with giant pastel centerpieces. As Will returned to my side, Chick spotted us and came over to say hello. I caught him subtly check his reflection in the French doors, smoothing his white shirt into the waistband of his khakis and recentering the buckle on his brown leather belt.

“Guys!” he yelled, a big grin on his face. He reached out and shook Will's hand, then planted a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for coming. Are you all set with drinks?” Will and I both raised our glasses and assured him we were okay on the beverage front.

“You have a beautiful home, Chick. Where's the guest of honor?” I asked.

“Oh, the kids are at the petting zoo. We kept that separate because Maggie can't stand the noise the goats make.” I made a mental note that Mrs. Chick's name was Maggie.

He waved for us to follow him. “Come say hello to Maggie. She wants to meet you, Alex.”

Will and I followed Chick around to the side of the house. About fifty yards away was a wooden pen that contained two goats and two lambs, and a large cage that held three white rabbits. Animal handlers were helping kids pet the goats or hold the bunnies, and each kid seemed to be followed around by his or her own babysitter. It was like a little circus for three-year-olds, and it all went on without interfering with the parents' fun on the other side of the house. Chick sure did know how to throw a party.

We walked over to a cluster of tables and a petite blond woman stood when she saw us approaching. Her navy blue sheath dress swayed in the wind and blue-and-white polka dot flats were barely visible in the lush grass. She was arguably the most pulled-together woman I had ever seen in my life. Maggie removed her enormous Chanel sunglasses, revealing bright green eyes, and came to stand at her husband's side.

“Mags, you know Willy,” Chick said. Will kissed her on the cheek while holding one of her hands in his.

“Great to see you, Maggie. This is some party!”

She gently hugged Will's shoulders. “Great to see you, Will. How are things with you? You still breaking hearts all over Manhattan?”

“Not on purpose, I promise.”

“Now somehow I don't think that's true.” She turned her attention toward me as Chick continued with the introductions.

“And this is Alex.”

Maggie extended her perfectly manicured hand. “So nice to meet you, Alex! I've heard so much about you. How are you liking Cromwell?”

“It's great. Thanks for inviting us today. You have a beautiful home.”

“Of course! I'm delighted to meet you, and I want you to enjoy yourself.” Maggie put a hand on my arm and motioned toward the tables. “Here, Alex, why don't you come sit with us girls?” She eyed my almost empty glass of champagne. “We'll get you another drink, and you can meet some of the other ladies.”