Page 56
Story: Breaking His Law
I throw Arianna, who is sitting next to me, a knowing look, mentally informing her that Vivienne has been lying since the minute she walked into the boardroom.
Arianna gives me a slow deliberate nod, confirming she understands.
We have this intangible connection I can’t explain; we don’t need words to know what we mean. After last night’s dinner, it feels stronger today.
I wish I had kissed her again last night.
Why didn’t I?
Idiot.
She’s here working for me because she wants to, and she wants to help make a difference. That’s what she said last night, and I know she means it.
We value the same things.
I look down at the questions Vivienne has left unanswered and ask the first one at the top of my list. “You said you told amember of the cabin crew about Henry’s allergy just before you boarded the flight?”
“Yes.” She threads her fingers together on top of the table.
The slight shift in her demeanor tells me she’s hiding something. The shaking of her head that saidnomismatched her words when she saidyes, is a dead giveaway that she’s lying.
I press her for more information. “And yet, the statements from each of the cabin crew all said the same thing.” I read out one of the sections I highlighted before today’s meeting. “‘Mrs. Cavendish did not inform me or any of the crew of any allergy.’ That correct?”
“Not true. I did.” Her rapid eye blinking combined with the tapping of her fingers against the tabletop confirms she didn’t.
And when I feel a slight tap of Arianna’s foot against my ankle, I know it’s her way of talking to me without saying anything. Vivienne thinks she has us fooled.
I prod her further. “Isn’t it standard practice for passengers to inform the airline of any allergies during the booking process?”
“Not always,” she replies defensively.
Another lie.
I ask something that’s been bothering me that’s not on my notepad. “Was it normal for you to book Henry’s flights?”
“Not always.”
I suspect it was never.
“Who usually took care of booking Henry’s flights and organizing his schedule?”
“Um, his assistant.”
“But on this occasion, you did?”
“Yes.”
I fire a quick question at her, one I’ve already asked, but I ask her in a different way. “And this is the only one you ever booked?”
“Yes.”
Bingo.
“Sorry, I didn’t understand the question to begin with, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it was one of the many I booked. I liked being involved with?—”
I don’t let her finish. Her babbling and overexplaining scream “liar” much louder this time.
I push my seat back, indicating the meeting is over. “I think we have all the information required. You’ll hear from us in the next two to five days by letter.”
Arianna gives me a slow deliberate nod, confirming she understands.
We have this intangible connection I can’t explain; we don’t need words to know what we mean. After last night’s dinner, it feels stronger today.
I wish I had kissed her again last night.
Why didn’t I?
Idiot.
She’s here working for me because she wants to, and she wants to help make a difference. That’s what she said last night, and I know she means it.
We value the same things.
I look down at the questions Vivienne has left unanswered and ask the first one at the top of my list. “You said you told amember of the cabin crew about Henry’s allergy just before you boarded the flight?”
“Yes.” She threads her fingers together on top of the table.
The slight shift in her demeanor tells me she’s hiding something. The shaking of her head that saidnomismatched her words when she saidyes, is a dead giveaway that she’s lying.
I press her for more information. “And yet, the statements from each of the cabin crew all said the same thing.” I read out one of the sections I highlighted before today’s meeting. “‘Mrs. Cavendish did not inform me or any of the crew of any allergy.’ That correct?”
“Not true. I did.” Her rapid eye blinking combined with the tapping of her fingers against the tabletop confirms she didn’t.
And when I feel a slight tap of Arianna’s foot against my ankle, I know it’s her way of talking to me without saying anything. Vivienne thinks she has us fooled.
I prod her further. “Isn’t it standard practice for passengers to inform the airline of any allergies during the booking process?”
“Not always,” she replies defensively.
Another lie.
I ask something that’s been bothering me that’s not on my notepad. “Was it normal for you to book Henry’s flights?”
“Not always.”
I suspect it was never.
“Who usually took care of booking Henry’s flights and organizing his schedule?”
“Um, his assistant.”
“But on this occasion, you did?”
“Yes.”
I fire a quick question at her, one I’ve already asked, but I ask her in a different way. “And this is the only one you ever booked?”
“Yes.”
Bingo.
“Sorry, I didn’t understand the question to begin with, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it was one of the many I booked. I liked being involved with?—”
I don’t let her finish. Her babbling and overexplaining scream “liar” much louder this time.
I push my seat back, indicating the meeting is over. “I think we have all the information required. You’ll hear from us in the next two to five days by letter.”
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