Chapter 41

The University Club

Ellen sipped her martini. The vodka was still cold, but the shimmer of ice crystals left from the bartender’s perfect shake had long since melted. She picked up the bamboo toothpick that garnished her drink and examined the olive speared at its tip. Its slightly oily residue had left a sheen across the vodka’s surface.

Other than the bartender, Ellen was currently the only person in the University Club’s bar. She used to think drinking alone was in bad taste. However, since the death of her husband, she’d learned to appreciate the contemplative aspects of a solitary cocktail.

On entering the members-only club, she’d set her phone to silent as policy dictated and kept it sitting face up on the bar next to her. Tapping the screen, she saw a string of messages from colleagues and staff, but none from Victor Smith explaining his tardiness. She tapped on a message from Theo reporting in that he’d checked on Sheila this morning and there was no change in her condition. Though disappointed by the news, Ellen was comforted that at least one man in her life was reliable.

Looking idly at her watch, Ellen wondered where Victor was. It was well after noon and she hadn’t had lunch. She pulled the olive from the toothpick with her teeth and chewed. The briny flavor was unappealing.

The bartender saw Victor before Ellen did. She noticed him quietly shift to attention, checking that the tools of his trade were in order.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he said as Victor slid onto the barstool next to Ellen’s.

“Yes, good afternoon, Victor. Only a half hour late,” she said with a hint of acid in her voice. She turned to the bartender. “Please give Mr. Smith anything he’d like, and put it on my tab.”

“What’s your most expensive single malt?” Victor asked him.

“We’re proud to serve Macallan Twenty-Five.”

Ellen almost choked as she took a sip of her tepid martini and glared at the bartender. She made a mental note to talk to him later about keeping his recommendations on the more economical end.

“Perfect. I’ll have a double,” said Victor. “I feel like celebrating.”

“How do you take it?” asked the bartender.

Victor smiled. “Neat. I want to savor every sip of Mayor Salder’s money.”

“Excellent, sir.”

Victor turned to Ellen with a magnanimous smile. “And I see the mayor was enjoying a cocktail. She’ll have another, also on her tab.”

The bartender looked to Ellen for approval. She pushed her now empty glass forward and shrugged. “Why not?”

Ellen turned to Victor. “I’m always a little worried when you have something to celebrate.”

Victor laughed. “Let’s just say I’ve had quite a successful day, and I have a feeling it’s about to get even better.”

“Now I’m genuinely afraid,” Ellen said wryly. “What did you want to meet about? I have a very busy schedule.”

“Right to business, as usual.”

The bartender placed their drinks on the bar in front of them. They raised their glasses in a toast.

“To the University Club,” said Ellen.

“Fuck the University Club,” said Victor. “I’ve always hated this place.”

“Still upset about your failed membership bid?”

He shrugged and sipped his drink in lieu of a response.

“I’m just glad to know there are still some places you can’t buy your way into,” said Ellen, knowing full well she was to blame for blocking Victor’s chances of joining.

Victor glared at her. “Let’s not ruin my good mood. I might get mean.”

Ellen swung down from her barstool and picked up her phone, purse, and martini. “Why don’t we move to the library,” she said. “It’s more comfortable. And private.”

They stepped into a vacant, book-lined room next door to the bar. A fire crackled in the hearth, the shelves were filled with a mix of leather-bound volumes and best sellers, and racks held an assortment of international newspapers and magazines. They settled into a pair of leather armchairs near the fireplace.

Ellen didn’t like how comfortable Victor appeared. Usually when they met to cover rebuilding contracts, he was on guard. Today, Victor looked like he owned the place.

“I hear you’re running for governor,” he said.

She wasn’t surprised he knew. The party hadn’t exactly kept it a secret. “Nothing’s official yet,” said Ellen with a demure smile. The mere thought of a gubernatorial run gave her a thrill of pleasure. “Why, would you like to make a contribution to my campaign?”

Victor laughed. “My money is going to the other guy.”

“Governor McCullough is finishing his second term. There is no other guy.”

“Not yet. Whoever he eventually is, he’ll have my full backing.”

Ellen paused and shook her head in disgust. “As always, thanks for your support, Victor. I knew I could count on you,” she said.

“So, you have decided?” he asked.

“I’ve been approached by the party, and I’m seriously considering.”

“Well, you’re going to want to reconsider.”

Ellen laughed. “And why is that?” she asked, not at all comfortable with the smug, self-satisfied smile he gave her.

“My son came to work for me recently,” said Victor. “He just turned up out of the blue about six months ago. I had some problems with him as a kid, but I took care of it.”

“What does your son have to do with me?” she asked with growing irritation.

“I sent him to that Lost Lake Academy. Cost a pretty penny. Didn’t you send your daughter there? Lisa, right? I wonder if they knew each other. My son’s name is Patrick. Maybe she’s mentioned him?”