She stops, breathless from the exertion of telling the story. She glances back at me, her lips trembling. She’s about to start crying again.
“Gloria, this is old news. What’s your point?”
She pinches the bridge of her nose between a thumb and forefinger as if to stop the renewed threat of tears. She draws a deep breath. I wait, counting. If she hasn’t picked up the narrative by the time I get to ten—
“Yes, there is a point.”
She made it under the wire. I was up to eight.
“Rory is blackmailing me.”
The obvious questions spring to my lips. “Why? What did you do?”
This time the old Gloria flashes through. “How like you. To assume I did something. Why is it so hard for you to see me as a victim?”
At least she didn’t say “innocent” victim. I lean toward her. “There aren’t enough hours in the day to answer that.”
She frowns, and for a minute, I think she’s going to lash out. Once again, she surprises me by backing down. “I understand why you might feel that way, but you have to believe me; I’m not to blame for this.”
Her tone is sincere, she’s not fidgeting, her eyes don’t slither away from my gaze. Could she actually be telling the truth?
I try a different tack. “Rory O’Sullivan is a prominent man. If he’s ready to risk jail by blackmailing you, he must have a powerful reason. He’s not doing it for money. What does he want?”
“What do you think?” Gloria’s tone is peevish, the tone of a spoiled child, the tone of one who thinks the answer to that question should be obvious.
It’s not obvious to me.
“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you, Gloria. What does he want?”
She heaves a long, deep sigh. “He wants me to sleep with him.”
A pause. This time the eyes do slide away.
“Again.”
CHAPTER 4
“HE WANTS YOU TO WHAT? OH MY GOD! ARE YOU fucking kidding me?” I’m screeching like a scalded cat. I can’t help it. Neither can I help lunging toward Gloria. It takes great effort not to bare my fangs and howl. My fist connects with a crystal hunk on the top of the desk, and it flies across the room and crashes into the wall.
“You pulled me away from a wonderful afternoon with my niece because of this bullshit?”
Gloria looks stunned at my reaction. “That paperweight was a gift from David. You broke it.”
I snatch up another crystal knickknack and heft it. For two cents, I’d hurl it at her cheating head.
She raises both hands in front of her face and takes a step back. “Anna, please. This is serious. Rory won’t take no for an answer. He keeps pushing and pushing. He’s threatening to go to David. To tell him that we’ve slept together. You know how David will react.”
“I know how I hope he’ll react.”
She pays no attention. “It will kill him. He may do something foolish.”
I’m shaking I’m so angry. I hold the crystal whatever-it-is like a weapon and advance on her. “I have an idea. I’ll save O’Sullivan the trouble. I’ll tell David. It will give me great pleasure.”
Gloria is smart enough not to argue, to remain quiet for a minute before offering a subdued rebuttal. “I know you don’t like me,” she says softly. “But think about how this will affect David. He still adores me.”
I glare down at her. “I don’t know that. In fact, I only have your word that he wants to get back together with you.”
She leans over and picks up her purse. She opens it and pulls out a cell phone. Without a word, she scrolls until she finds what she’s looking for, queues up a message and holds it out to me when it begins to play.
“Gloria. It’s David. Again. I miss you. Please call me. I don’t know what I did to make you angry, but whatever it is, I want a chance to make up for it. Please, baby. I love you.”
She lets the message indicator play, too. The time of the message was ten fifteen, December 14. This morning.
She lays the phone on the desk, waiting for my reaction. Her expression is carefully neutral. It’s a good thing. One smile of smug satisfaction and I would hurl this knickknack at her.
As it is, I pass a hand over my face, take a deep breath and ask, “What possessed you to come to me with this? You must have known how I’d react.”
“It’s simple. I love David. I know you love him, too. You don’t want him to get hurt.”
Her reply surprises me. Or maybe it’s the way she says it. She actually sounds as if she means it, but there’s something else. A thrill of apprehension touches my spine.
“Has Rory threatened to do more than speak to David?”
She looks away.
I reach over and grab her chin with my hand, forcing her to face me. “Has he?”
She flinches and draws a quick breath. “I don’t think he’d really do anything to him. If you’d talk to Rory. Tell him you’ll go to the authorities, or the press, if he doesn’t leave me alone. Tell him you have connections in the police force. Tell him you’ll have him arrested for harassment or something if he doesn’t stop. He’ll listen to you. I know he will because you’ll make him.”
It bubbles out of her in a torrent. When she finally runs down, I step back from the desk, afraid if I don’t put some distance between us, I’ll give in to the impulse to bitch slap her across the room.
I shift the thing in my hand and see it’s a crystal clock. I toss it from one hand to the other, thinking. I’ve seen pictures of O’Sullivan. I can’t tell from a picture how big he is, but my partner is an ex-football player and I know how big David is. I also know he can take care of himself.
But thinking about the picture makes another image skitter through my head like a rat released from a trap. “O’Sullivan is married. He was here with his wife and kid for the opening of this place.”
She lowers her eyes. “That’s why I thought sleeping with him the one time would be harmless.” She emphasizes “the one time” as if the qualifier makes it excusable.
“Unbelievable. Only you would call adultery harmless. So turn the tables on him. Tell him you’ll go to his wife. Or the press. He has as much to lose as you do. More since this is a community-property state.”
She shakes her head. “I tried that. He doesn’t care. He says he and his wife have an open marriage and the publicity might actually be good. For both of us. He likes the idea of being seen as a philanderer. Improves his bad-boy image, and if we’re seen as a couple, that won’t do the restaurant business any harm, either. Anna, he’s not normal.”
“And you are? Christ. You betray David, and now you want my help to keep it from him. Why should I?”
Gloria pauses, then her face brightens as if my asking that question is a good thing. “I know what you’re thinking, how this looks.” Her tone glimmers with hope. “The night it happened, David and I had a fight. A bad one. I was vulnerable and Rory took advantage of it.”
Gloria vulnerable? Beyond belief. I have an easier time picturing a rhinoceros being victimized by a flea. “When did this happen?”
“A couple of months ago. You were off doing—whatever it is you do when you disappear.”
She cuts herself off with a sharp intake of breath.
Too late.
“You’re saying the fight was about me? That this was my fault?” She doesn’t have to answer. It’s there on her face. “Oh, Gloria, you are dumber than a sack of hair if you think I’d help you.”
There’s a long, tense silence while we stare at each other. I don’t know why I don’t walk out. I don’t know why I’m not pulling her hair out and screaming. I don’t understand any of it until it hits. The flash of inspiration. It must have been simmering in the back of my mind from the moment Gloria mentioned the word “blackmail.”