Authors: Martin Bodenham
Caroline glanced at her watch. “We need to be heading back soon. I promised Jo we’d be no later than ten thirty.”
Michael reached into his jacket for his wallet. “I’ll get the check. I have another busy day tomorrow anyway.”
“So what’s different about that?” Caroline looked over Michael’s shoulder toward the bar area, as if something had caught her attention.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said a man, appearing out of nowhere from behind Michael moments later.
Caroline frowned.
“I’ve been sitting with friends in the bar all night,” said the man, tapping Michael on the shoulder, “and I’m sure I recognized you.”
Michael flinched and then spun round. There was something very familiar about the man’s voice.
Suddenly, Rondell was standing over him. “Aren’t you from Chicago?” he asked, beaming from ear to ear.
Caroline looked at Michael, her face full of confusion.
Terror consumed Michael’s brain, freezing out all capacity to think. He stared at Rondell, motionless, eyes wide open. His mouth gaped, but he could find no words. What was he doing here?
Rondell rolled his head. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Caroline forced a polite smile. “Do you two know each other?”
Rondell threw his hands wide open. “Know each other? We practically grew up together.” He grabbed a chair from the empty table next to them, pulled it up to theirs, and sat down.
Michael remained frozen. “I’m not sure I—”
“Danny Boy, it’s me, Rondell.”
“Rondell.” Michael’s face was impassive. “Of course. My goodness.”
“Man. It must be at least twenty-five years.” Rondell soft-punched Michael in the chest. “You haven’t changed a bit, my friend.”
Michael patted his stomach. “Well, maybe a bit more weight.”
What was this maniac doing here? His men said he had until Friday to start delivering information on the first deal. Had Rondell lost patience and changed his mind? Was he about to be exposed? Already he’d mentioned Michael’s childhood name and Chicago. What must Caroline be thinking, hearing all this?
Jesus
.
Rondell laughed. “Weight? Hey, that gets to us all.” He looked at Caroline. “And who is this beauty?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is my wife.”
“My name’s Caroline.” She reached across the table and shook Rondell’s hand. “Michael here seems to have forgotten my name as well as his manners.”
“You did well, Danny Boy. She’s a stunner.”
Caroline’s face turned red, and she looked away.
“I bet you’re going to tell me next you’ve got a couple of beautiful kids, as well.”
Caroline’s face lit up. “That’s right. Two daughters.”
“How lovely.”
“Why do you call him Danny?”
Rondell screwed his face. “Because that’s—”
Michael’s pulse shot up and his brain went into overdrive. “That was the nickname I had as a child,” he said before Rondell could finish his sentence. Short of running out of the restaurant, how the hell was he going to get out of this?
Rondell put his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “That’s right. He’ll always be Danny Boy to me.” He squeezed Michael a little too tight. “What are you up to now? Do you live up this way?”
Michael’s skin was crawling under the weight of Rondell’s arm. “Oh, not too far away.” He slipped free by turning his chair to face Rondell.
Caroline narrowed her eyes in disapproval. “We live here in Westport. Only about ten minutes away, actually. This is our local.”
Don’t tell him anything.
Michael waved frantically at the waiter. “The check, please,” he mouthed before smiling at Caroline. “Honey, we’re going to have to leave soon to make it back in time. You said you don’t want us to be late.”
“But we have time for another coffee. Won’t you join us, Ron?”
“That’s real kind of you. The name’s Rondell, by the way.”
“I’m sorry. I must have misheard you.”
The waiter came over with the check. Caroline ordered three coffees before Michael could do anything about it, and the waiter went to pick up the check to amend it.
“Don’t worry about that,” Rondell said to the waiter. “Put the coffees on my bar bill.”
“That’s very kind.” It was clear Caroline was charmed by their good-looking visitor.
Michael bit the inside of his lower lip. How long would he have to sit through this charade? He couldn’t stay here and watch Rondell tell Caroline everything. He had to get away from this slow car wreck, and quickly.
“Do you live here, too?” Caroline said.
“No. I’m not from around here. I had some business to take care of up this way. That’s all.” Rondell smirked at Michael. “I was sitting over at the bar with my guests and, as they left, I looked over here and spotted Danny. I just had to come over and say hi.”
Caroline threw her husband a quick look of disapproval. “So you’re here on business? What do you do?”
“It’s really boring. I’m an investment fund manager in New York.”
“Really,” Michael said, pretending to be interested for Caroline’s sake. He felt like smashing the grin right off Rondell’s face.
“What line of work are you in, Danny?” As Caroline was about to answer the question, Rondell raised his hand before she could say anything. “No. Let me guess.” Rondell looked Michael up and down and made out he was thinking. “I bet you’re a lawyer or something like that. You look like a big-shot lawyer to me.”
“Amazing,” Caroline said. “You guys should meet up in the city. Michael’s an equity partner at Dudek, Collins, & Hamilton.” She said the last part slowly and with pride.
“A partner at Dudek’s, eh? You always were a bright one.”
“And many of his clients are fund managers and investment banks.”
“Is that right?” Rondell’s face lit up. “As Caroline says, we ought to get together. I’m sure there’s a lot of business we could do.”
Michael stared at Rondell, but said nothing.
“That sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it, honey?” Caroline did her best to continue covering for her husband’s lack of effort.
Rondell scrolled through the calendar on his smartphone. “What are you doing on Friday? I’m free for lunch then if you are.”
Michael’s breathing started to return to its normal pace. Maybe Rondell wasn’t about to blurt out everything now after all. Maybe this was a warning shot, a reminder that he held Michael’s entire life in the palm of his hand. “I’d need to check my schedule, but if not Friday, some other time certainly.”
“Let’s really try to make it Friday.” Rondell turned his head to Caroline. “This is an unexpected bonus. First I bump into an old friend after all this time, and it turns out we might be able to do some business together.”
“Sure is a stroke of luck.” Caroline glared at Michael. “Isn’t it, darling?”
Rondell handed over a business card to Michael. “Here’s my card. Do you have one?”
Michael patted his suit pockets. “I must have left them in my briefcase. I’ll e-mail you my details.” His cards had their home telephone number printed on the back. They were used for clients who needed to contact him in the middle of a transaction. Rondell was not getting that number.
Caroline lifted her purse from the floor. “Don’t worry, I have some in here.” She took one from her silver card holder. “Michael’s still not used to giving out his new cards.”
Rondell tilted his head at her.
“He’s just had new ones printed up,” she said, sliding the card over to Rondell. “Look, they say equity partner on them.”
Rondell held the card up at arm’s length. “Man. I’m impressed. I bet you get to do some important deals at Dudek’s.” He stood up. “Well, I must leave you lovely people alone. I’ve taken far too much of your time already.” He extended his arm toward Michael.
Michael took his hand and shook it, though it turned his stomach.
Rondell held the grip for a split second longer than necessary. “It was great to see you again after all this time,” he said, before finally letting go of Michael’s hand. “I really hope we can meet up in New York on Friday.” He walked around the table to Caroline. “If I may?” Then he kissed her on both cheeks.
As Rondell walked back to the bar, Michael wanted to throw up.
Chapter 13
T
EN
Y
EARS
O
F
M
ARRIAGE
had taught Michael to recognize when Caroline was pissed at him. In fairness, stony silence was not a difficult signal for any man to spot. As messages went, this one was pretty obvious, and he deserved it. The pressure to say something was overwhelming, but what could he say that would make things better? Whatever he volunteered now would have to be another lie, but leaving Caroline upset wasn’t fair, either.
“You’re very quiet,” he said when they were about halfway home.
“And why do you think that is?” Caroline’s tone was laced with more than a hint of venom.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“You know full well.” She pursed her lips and gazed out of the car’s side window.
They pulled up at a red light, and he tried to look busy by squirting the jet washers at the windshield. “That’s better. I can see now.”
“You were rude to that man.”
“Who?”
“Don’t play games, Michael. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
“If you mean Rondell, I hardly remember him. What was I supposed to say?”
Michael took his foot off the brake when the lights changed, checked his rearview mirror, and touched the gas. Normally second nature to him, suddenly all of his driving actions required immense concentration and elaborate movement; anything to avoid an argument with Caroline.
“You could see he was excited he bumped into you, and you treated him like something stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”
This row wasn’t going to go away. “Okay. I admit I was a little abrupt with him.”
“Abrupt? More like incredibly rude.”
“The truth is, I never really liked him when we were kids. He was a bully, and those people rarely change.”
“Which is it? You don’t remember him, or you don’t like him?”
Michael had always thought Caroline would have made a great prosecuting attorney. She was quick-thinking and had an incredibly logical mind. Over the years, he’d learned to keep his stories short and thin on detail if he had something to hide.
“Both.”
“It was embarrassing.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached over and squeezed her left knee. “I accept that I could have played it better.”
Minutes later, they were home, and Michael made sure he became absorbed in asking how the girls had been and saying goodbye to Caroline’s sister. Once she’d left, very few words were spoken before they went to bed. He hoped all this would be forgotten by the morning and he wouldn’t have to keep lying. Whatever happened, Rondell could never be allowed to meet Caroline again.
Michael struggled to fall asleep, with Rondell dominating his every thought. Why had he showed up at the restaurant tonight, and how had he known they’d be there, anyway? What was the man hoping to achieve? Michael hardly needed reminding of what was at stake here. In spite of the risk, he’d already decided Rondell would have his information and that the first deal was going to be Spar.
An hour after they went to bed, Caroline turned onto her side to face him. “Why did he call you Danny Boy?” She spoke as though the earlier conversation had just taken place. Like him, she must have been lying awake, thinking of nothing else.
“It’s all such a long time ago. I can’t even remember.” Michael stayed flat on his back, unable to look at his wife.
“There must be some reason.”
“I really don’t know. Maybe it came from the song, somehow. Does it matter?”
“Seems a really strange thing to call you, that’s all. Mikey, maybe, but Danny? I don’t get it.”
“Can we please get some sleep? I have a heavy day tomorrow.”
Caroline turned onto her other side and faced away from him.
He nestled up to her and gave her a spoon. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you tonight.” He put his arm around her.
She said nothing, and they lay quiet for several minutes.
“Why did he say you were from Chicago?”
Michael could either deal with this now or pretend to be asleep. If he left it, Caroline was not the type of person to just drop the subject. The questions would play on her mind all night, and the whole thing would take on a life of its own. It was better to handle it now. At least that way, he didn’t need to look her in the eye when making up his story.
“Because I lived there once.”
“You said you grew up in Baltimore.”
“I did, but I was actually born in Chicago.”
“So how old were you when you moved to Baltimore?” Once more, Caroline’s voice took on an investigative tone. She could tell something wasn’t right. He’d need to tread carefully now.