LEONARD SAT IN A BOOTH IN THE BACK OF THE RESTAURANT, annoyed that Sissy was keeping him waiting. He had told her to meet him here on the Monday following her weekend in New York so he could collect the evidence from her, but she was uncharacteristically late.
He glanced at his Chopard watch. What the hell was taking her so long? He had things to do. He was not a man to keep waiting and he briefly entertained the thought of one more night with her just so he could make her pay. But that wouldn’t be wise. No, a clean break was necessary. She’d get a visit from one of his employees warning her to stay away from him or else face public humiliation. He knew that whatever her past, she wouldn’t want to find compromising pictures of herself on Snapchat or Instagram. Why were people so stupid? They were careless, so trusting and foolish to think that there wasn’t always someone waiting and watching to get the better of them. He’d learned that lesson early enough.
He was about to call Sissy when he heard the chime of the diner door. That had better be her. The sound of clicking heels became louder as she approached his booth. When he looked up, he dropped his cup into the saucer. It rattled loudly, splashing coffee across the table.
“What the hell is this? What are you doing here?”
Patrice smiled at him and slid into the other side of the booth, grabbing his napkin and stopping the flow of liquid before it reached her side. “I think it’s time you started treating me with more respect considering I hold your future in my hands.” She handed him her cell phone and earphones. “You may want these.”
He grabbed them from her and put them in his ears.
Patrice hit the play button, and Leonard’s stomach lurched—it was a recording of him and Sissy at her apartment. He watched with growing dread as their entire conversation about framing the Supreme Court justice was replayed in crystal-clear audio.
Sissy had tricked him. How had Patrice found her? “I don’t understand . . . How did you . . . get this?” he sputtered.
She yanked the phone toward her and the cord pulled the earphones from his ears.
His wife smiled again. “A better question is: What am I going to do with it?”