Page 12

THREE WEEKS LATER

The electronic gate opened and Tim eased the limousine up the winding driveway that led to the main house on the hill. Spruce trees and dogwood trees and chestnut and red maple trees all hemmed the driveway as the limo drove through. Already sunny outside, the groundskeepers were out in force over the expansive landscape as the sounds of lawn mowers and hedge trimers and leaf blowers dominated the air space.

It was early Monday morning of a new day in a new week, but it all felt like more of the same old thing to Tim and Margo as the limo stopped at the main house. Especially when they saw, as they saw more times than they could remember, yet another gorgeous woman come out of the mansion ahead of the boss and was swiftly escorted by the house manager to a car waiting to whisk her away as if she’d never been there.

“He just got back in town late last night,” said Margo. “What did he do? Go pick her up as soon as he got off his plane?”

“The man doesn’t like to sleep alone, what’s wrong with that?” asked Tim.

“Everything is wrong with it. Sleeping with women he doesn’t give a damn about at his age? It’s all wrong. I’ll bet you any amount of money he doesn’t even remember her name.” Margo was Brax’s chief of staff and executive assistant who held an iPad in her hand filled with bullet points that needed to be discussed. She sat in the backseat of the limo and watched the woman get in the backseat of the Uber or Lift or whatever car service was picking her up. “He never remembers their names.”

“I’ll bet he’ll remember her name though,” said Tim. “A good-looking dame like that? Ain’t too many men gonna forget her name.” Then he looked at Margo through the rearview. She was in her mid-forties. Right around the same age as their boss. But it seemed to Tim that the weight of her enormous responsibilities made her look much older than the boss. “How much you wanna bet?”

“That he don’t remember her name?” Margo asked. “Fifty could work.”

“I thought you said any amount of money? Sounds like you’re backing out already.”

“Okay big shot,” said Margo as the double doors of the mansion opened again and the boss stepped out. “A hundred then.”

“A hundred it is,” Tim said with a smile, certain he had her dead to rights, as they looked at Braxton McCrae as he made his way across the front porch and down the steep steps to his waiting limousine. Javitts, his house manager, opened the back passenger door of the limo as Brax hurried down the final step, unbuttoned his suit coat, and hopped in.

“Good morning,” Margo said cheerfully.

But Brax only grunted. It had been another long, draining week in Europe with little results. He tried to get into it with the woman he sent for late last night, but he couldn’t even do that. What he really wanted to do was go to Roni’s house and hop in bed with her, even if they did nothing, but he knew today was her first day at work. She’d think he was checking up on her. He wasn’t going to bother her like that.

But lately he wasn’t bothering any other women either. He tried. Like last night. But he just couldn’t get it going.

“Good morning, Boss,” said Tim.

“Morning.”

“Who’s that?” Margo asked him.

Braxton looked at her. “Who’s who?”

“That woman that just got in that Uber or whatever it is. She just came out of your house.”

“Oh.”

“She looks familiar,” said Margo. “What’s her name?”

Braxton ran his hand through his hair, further messing up what was already messy hair. Or sexy messy hair as the women around town called it.

“What’s her name?” Margo asked again.

“Darla or Carla or something like that.” Margo was grinning as Tim drove away from the mansion. “How should I know her name?”

Tim, disappointed that he had lost, looked at his boss. “How should you know the name of the woman that spent the night with you, Boss? Who thought that was too much to ask?”’

“Why are you two so hung up on her name?” asked a baffled Brax. “Who cares?”

“We had a bet,” said Tim. “I lost.”

“Oh yeah? How much was the bet?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“And that’s exactly how much I’m docking from both of your paychecks for getting all up in my business like this.”

Tim was shocked.

“Stay in your lanes!” Brax declared.

“Yes sir,” Tim said, glancing warily at Margo.

But Margo was still smiling. “Don’t worry, Tim, he’s kidding.”

“Oh yeah?” Brax wasn’t cracking even a smile. “Ever known me to kid?”

When Margo realized that she hadn’t, her smile disappeared. “But you do realize a hundred dollars is a lot of money to working stiffs like us.”

“That’s what you get for getting in my business. Now let’s get down to business. What we got?”

Margo and Tim were both reeling, but Tim continued to drive into town and Margo turned on her sleeping iPad and got down to business. “The head of three companies, among the biggest in the state behind you, want to throw their support behind your Better Victorville initiative.”

“Provided I do what?”

“Support the Free Business initiative that’ll be on the ballot this November.”

“The bill that will guarantee tax breaks up the gazoo for millionaires and billionaires? Why am I not surprised?”

“They’re appealing to the fact that you’re a billionaire yourself and they’re hopeful that you won’t side against your own best interest.”

“Does it look like I need another tax break?”

Tim looked at him through the rearview. That was what he loved about the boss. He looked out for the little guy.

“Our citizens are being choked alive by these fat cats as it is,” Brax continued, “and they want more tax breaks from our city? How about we give the citizens a tax break on us? How about them apples? What if we add that referendum to the ballot? Think the big three will go for that?”

“Not a chance,” said Margo. “And when those same rich fat cats finish producing tv ads that make it sound like giving citizens a tax cut will be the worst thing since the bubonic plague, then even the citizens will be against tax cuts for themselves.”

Brax laughed. “That’s exactly what will happen,” he said as he looked at his watch. When he realized the time, he picked up the car phone.

“Really?” asked Margo. “You’re going to make a phone call in the middle of our morning meeting? The only time I have to get up to speed with my boss? Really?”

But Brax held up a finger to shush her from talking, which Margo and Tim both knew what that meant. He was calling the one woman whose name he definitely remembered, but because of their peculiar relationship no staff member ever uttered. To everybody who worked for Braxton McCrae, and that was a considerable amount of people, she was simply her . He was calling her . He was yelling at her . He was doing everything in his power, at least in their estimation, to help her . It was a relationship that had no real definition as if it had no beginning nor ending. Which, given the very disparate backgrounds between their boss and her , baffled them still. “Give me a sec,” he said to Margo.

Margo and Tim exchanged a glance through the rearview. Why her? What was it about that high-stepping, arrogant, afro-wearing badass of a cop that kept him so bothered , they both wanted to know.