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UNFORTUNATELY, SHE changed the subject right when I thought we were making headway. Was it my imagination, or did she give me a strange look before saying, “I know what Kate and Kim do for a living, so now it’s your turn, Cameron. Are you in sales, too?”
Why didn’t I just take the easy way out and say she was right? No. I had to get creative, inviting a whole stream of questions that took us away from the main discussion—the real reason we were there. Sometimes I hate that somewhere deep down I must have a frustrated actress gene in me.
Without taking so much as a quick breath, I said, “I don’t think I’d be very good at that. I’m a freelance musician, but I have a good reputation in the industry.”
What a totally dumb move! I know next to nothing about the musician-for-hire industry and less about instruments. I hoped it would end there. Where the hell did that come from, anyway?
If hopes were dollars, I’d really be rolling in dough. No such luck. For some reason, she was clearly evaluating me, and wanted to know more about my supposed career as a musician. I almost lost it when she asked what instrument I played and what kind of jobs I got. Was I a sessions musician on recordings, or what? As she went on and on, it sounded like she knew more about it than I ever would. All I could think was open mouth, insert foot, you fool!
I hesitated, searching for words. Then a miracle rained down on me and I remembered one of my neighbors on the Canal. As glib as you please, I said, “Oh, I play the violin—concerts, you know. I get calls to play with the LA Philharmonic and other orchestras. I’ve done movies, too.” Too much information. Bound to inspire another stream of questions.
Before Stephanie could keep her probe going, Kate took the lead and saved me.
“Stephanie, you don’t want to get her going, or we’ll be sitting through the equivalent of a Music 101 lecture the rest of the night.”
She gave me a pointed look that silently said, “Shut up.”
Then she lowered her voice. A great technique to make it seem we were sharing secrets, but really intended to open Stephanie up even more so she would give us more information.
“Um, you mentioned that you have to do favors for this friend. I don’t know what your favors are, but mine are definitely X-rated. My guy is sooo sexy I don’t even look at it as doing him favors. It’s more like he’s doing me favors, if you know what I mean. Are we kindred souls, or what?” She flashed a wicked smile.
Stephanie consumed enough wine by then that she was really feeling good and apparently had dropped wanting to know more about me. Thank goodness! She sat back, her eyes slightly droopy but somewhat indignant at the same time.
“Well, I don’t know about you Kate. You’re a big girl and it sounds like you enjoy your affair and what comes with it as much as he does. Mine is more of a business arrangement, I guess. We just talk about what I do at work and he tells his contact what I say.” She quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh no, look at me talking about stuff I shouldn’t. Forget I said that. Yours is a much more interesting arrangement. To tell the truth, I envy you a little. My friend is an older guy, but hot. I’m attracted to him, but he doesn’t seem to see me that way. Any suggestions?”
Kate picked up the thread giving her a quick visual once-over. “For one thing, you’re a beautiful woman. When you get together with this guy, do you ever wear—you know, provocative clothes? Have to show off your assets, you know. When he comes over, do you wear things like that cool camisole you’re wearing to show off your cleavage?”
Our pigeon reached up and fingered her neckline self-consciously, and I knew Kate had nailed it. With a bit of a slur in her words, she said, “Nooo, but I probably should.”
She did have an impressive cleavage.
“Exactly. Now, your hair,” Kate continued. “Always wear it loose, and for heaven’s sake, those are great jeans, but consider going a size too small to really show off your booty. Better yet, invest in a short skirt or a flirty dress. Pretty soon he’ll be thinking more about you than what you did at work.”
And so the conversation went. By the time the evening was over our slightly drunken Stephanie treated us like we were trusted friends. More important, I was sure she was the leak, and by looking at Kate and Kim I could tell they agreed. Whatever information she talked about with her benefactor ultimately was fed to someone with very powerful connections. Nate would be delighted to learn this, even though he’d warned us about getting too involved.
The only thing that bothered me—well maybe annoyed is more the word—was that while she seemed to relate to Kate and Kim, she kept giving me strange looks. As she became higher and higher, she didn’t take measures to disguise them. What had I done to arouse her suspicion, if that’s what it was? I thought I’d covered pretty well with the musician story and although I might have slipped up a little, I figured she was too far gone to notice. Maybe I was kind of paranoid.
I made a pot of coffee when we got back to my house—something we could all use by then. We took our cups out onto the patio to enjoy what was left of the evening. What a night. We don’t have the same city glow in Venice as the main parts of Los Angeles, and the black night sky was studded with stars that twinkled like diamonds on black velvet. A few people walked along the canal, but no one I recognized. Possibly tourists. It was a beautiful night for walking, just cool enough with a little bit of salt in the air from the nearby ocean. However, we had more important things on our mind than taking a leisurely stroll.
I was a little taken back by the tone of Kate’s voice. “A freelance musician? What were you thinking? Your real name! Didn’t you get the signal when I gave a phony name? Oh well, hopefully it’s okay, but I didn’t like the way she switched the conversation to you.”
Thinking about it, she was right. It was a dumb move on my part. I’d have to be more careful as we progressed. Kim agreed to call Nate the next morning and tell him what we’d learned. She would also have a meeting with the Director away from the facility to maintain her cover, because she was supposed to be done with the interviews.
I told myself it did feel good to have something to take my mind off of what could be going on at my office.
Did I say take my mind off of it? Who was I kidding? Nothing was going to distract me enough not to be damned worried. I’d worked hard to build what I have, and now although I put up a tough front, inside I was concerned about what kind of retribution those jerks might be plotting.
Just before nine, Kate said she had to shoot off some emails, Kim was feeling the wine, and me, well I was just plain freaking out inside about my own problems.