Page 49
Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
I sipped my drink and waited for Malcolm to get up and do the rounds, but either he’d already done the rounds before I arrived or he felt obligated to keep an eye on me. I couldn’t help suspecting the latter.
Bente and her husband got up to dance. I noticed as they wended their way to the dance floor, she stopped by Brigid’s table. She and Brigid spoke together for half a moment, and Brigid glanced over at me. I wasn’t sure what her expression meant, but it kind of looked like she was S-O-S-ing me with her eyes. Was she asking to be delivered from Bente or was the message something else?
“How are you feeling?” Malcolm asked suddenly. “About ready to call it a night?”
I glanced at him in surprise. I could feel Vinnie and his wife watching our exchange.
“I’m good. It’s nice seeing everyone enjoy themselves.”
“It’s nice seeingyouenjoy yourself.” Malcolm’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He glanced at his Rolex. “I can wait a bit longer, if you want to stay a while.”
I didn’t try to hide my puzzlement. “No need to stay. I’ll just phone for an Uber when I’m ready to go.”
He made a scoffing sound. “Of course not. I’m happy to keep you company.”
Since when?
I swallowed the last of my martini, said, “Yeah? Up to you. I’m going to circulate a bit. Say hi to some people.” I rose, patted his shoulder—Vinnie and his wife were looking at each other—and moved away from the table.
Not my imagination. Malcolm wanted to keep tabs on me. Maybe it was out of genuine concern, but my niggling doubts were starting to blossom into full-blown suspicion. I truly did not want to believe he could have had anything to do with Astrid’s death—it still seemed surreal—but something was really wrong. I could feel it. It had started with my hesitation to appoint him director, but my threat to sell the company had definitely escalated matters.
Why would Malcolm want—need?—to be made director?
Why would Malcolm be terrified of the idea of my selling the company?
I could believe that on one level it was concern for our employees and the community. But in all honesty, Malcolm had never really exhibited that much…civic duty before. He was a decent guy. He did all the right things. But I’d never really known him to put himself to great inconvenience just to make other people—other than Astrid—happy.
I was careful not to head straight for Brigid’s table. I wandered over to speak to Rhoda, to Carl, to Patty, who had been Astrid’s PA. I kissed cheeks, shook hands, smiled and nodded and said thanks, said how glad I was to be home, said I was looking forward to getting back to work. I did everything I could to reassure people that I was back and the company was in good hands.
Nearly every time I glanced over at our table, Malcolm was watching me. I knew him well enough to tell he was getting irritated. He never stayed this long at the company parties. But tonight, he was determined to wait for me. It did not give me a warm and cozy feeling.
What happened when you sold a company?
Change.
Changes in personnel were likely. Changes in policies and procedures. Changes in management maybe. Not always. If a company was doing great, the smart move was to leave a successful leadership team in place. But was Bredahl Cakes and Cookies doing great if they couldn’t afford a hosted bar or a decent meal at the annual holiday party?
What was something else that happened when a business was sold?
A complete financial audit.
I glanced instinctively across the room at Brigid. She was staring at me hopefully.
I pretended not to see her.
Instead, I turned and headed off Bente and her husband as they were coming off the dance floor.
“Hey.” I kissed Bente’s cheek. “You’re leaving now.”
Bente’s blue eyes widened. “I-I am?”
“Yep.” I shook her husband’s—Ralph, Ralph was his name; I needed to get better at this—hand. “You’re going to say goodnight to everyone at our table, and on your way to the door, you’re going to stop to say goodnight to Brigid.”
“Okay.” I could see the light dawning.
“You’re going to tell her that she’s also leaving now. She’s going to bring her car around to the back and wait for me. We’re going to go have a quick drink and a private chat.” My idiot grin was wide enough to reach the back rows. “Got it?”
“Got it.” Ralph drew her forward. “Come on, babe. This is exactly what you’ve been praying for.”
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