An unfamiliar noise roused me from a deep sleep – I slowly opened my eyes to see rays of sunlight filtering through two red curtains, forming a rainbow pattern against a bright white wall.
I suddenly realised I was in Dan’s guest room and felt a smugness wash over me at the bold move of sleeping over at a strange man’s place. Last night Dan and I had shared a wonderful evening of kissing, talking, me lying in his arms and kissing again. It was hard to resist taking things further – that man was irresistible – but I didn’t want to rush it. If this all worked out between us, there’d plenty of time for that.
I flung off the yellow-and-white checked duvet and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I noticed the white shirt I was wearing, belonging to Dan, and a grin spread across my face. I checked my phone and saw that I’d received a message from my mother, saying Tim was doing well.
I moved along the corridor with a spring in my step and heard all kinds of unfamiliar sounds coming from the kitchen. I gently eased down the creaking wooden stairs, varnished with a high-gloss white as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Somewhat discomfited, I tugged at the shirt when I entered the gallery kitchen – I’d never managed to shake off the last few pregnancy kilos after Tim’s arrival.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Dan said. His hair was tousled and a dark stubble was visible on his lower jaw – he was just as attractive as last night. He was only wearing boxer shorts and a white shirt. I tried to avert my eyes from the beautifully toned contours of his body.
Dan leaned forward to give me a kiss, making me feel special yet somewhat uneasy at the same time. “How did you sleep?” he asked, while putting a few rolls into the oven and turning it on.
“Like a rose,” I replied, as I self-consciously lowered myself onto one of the two grey stools that slotted under the small, high table, barely fitting in the narrow kitchen. “Quite a decent sofa bed,” I added, although to be fair, the copious amounts of alcohol from last night probably contributed to my deep sleep.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Dan said, while he turned on the tap and filled a saucepan with water. “Fancy a boiled egg?”
It had been ages since someone had prepared breakfast for me – I felt blissfully coveted. “Sounds delicious,” I replied with a smile.
We talked a bit about how spring was just around the corner, while Dan filled a tray with all the necessities for a proper breakfast. Then we walked into the sun-drenched living room, to an already set, wooden dining table.
“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” I asked Dan, while I slathered a croissant with strawberry jam.
“I have to work from home for a few hours after which Bella will come here. We often do something fun together, go for a walk through the Vondelpark or eat an ice cream somewhere.” His eyes lit up when he spoke about his daughter, which made me smile.
“Do you always work on weekends?” I asked tentatively. I was wary of engaging in a relationship with someone who had the same work ethic as Oliver once had.
Dan seemed to pick up on my feelings and waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I occasionally work from home, but I’m certainly not a workaholic. I believe it’s important to spend enough time with Bella – one day a week I take parental leave to see her,” he said with a proud expression on his face.
“You deserve a medal,” I bantered.
He gave me a loving tap on the cheek.
I took a swig of my coffee. “I didn’t know they approved of working part-time, at Mason & McGant,” I said now with a serious tone. Oliver had once told me his manager had laughed out loud when a colleague had raised the question of taking parental leave.
Dan shrugged. “It probably won’t make me a partner of the firm, working less than fulltime, but I think it’s essential to have a good work-life balance.
Satisfied with his answer, I chewed on my croissant while the sun warmed my face. I closed my eyes for a moment – wasn’t life wonderful?
All of a sudden I remembered why I’d agreed to this date in the first place and my eyes flew open. I wanted to make sure that Mason & McGant hadn’t sent Dan to find out how much I knew. Last night I’d allowed myself to believe that his intentions were sincere, but now, in hindsight, I wondered whether this conclusion was too premature.
The relaxed, blissful feeling of moments earlier vanished like vapour. I had completely let myself go last night – I’d recklessly spent the night with an unknown and potentially dangerous man, and had become side-tracked from my original motive to meet him. Just because we’d shared a wonderful evening and he’d attentively prepared a nice breakfast for me didn’t mean I should precipitously exclude him from playing a role in Oliver’s death. He had an ostensibly casual attitude towards the firm, but perhaps this was all part of his cover up.
Dan stood up and popped into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee while my mind was racing. If my suspicions were legitimate and Dan was indeed part of a widely branched scheme, why did he make me feel on cloud nine? Surely I would have noticed something was off, or not? Perhaps I was mistaken – for all I knew he could be completely oblivious to all fraudulent practices at the law firm – he too could well have been, without having any knowledge of it, recorded drinking and snorting drugs on camera.
My palms suddenly felt cold and sweaty and my heart was pounding. I had to put Dan to the test once more, I couldn’t escape it. I decided this time to take a different angle – I needed to determine which way the wind was blowing.
Dan walked back into the room with a pot of coffee. “Would you like another cup?”
I shook my head.
He put the coffee pot on a coaster on the table and sat down in front of me, unsuspecting of the turmoil in my head.
I took another bite of the croissant, but it didn’t taste as good anymore. I coughed nervously and decided to come straight to the point. “Did you know that Mason & McGant has stored DVDs of its paralegals?”
Dan sprinkled some salt on his egg before taking a bite. “Hmm, what’s that?”
I laid down my croissant, looked at him, and waited for him to give me his full attention. “Mason & McGant produces compromising footage of all their new paralegals, on which they’re seen cavorting with young, promiscuous ladies,” I mouthed slowly and deliberately. “To use them as a means of blackmailing them,” I added, and although the latter was just an assumption, it had been the most plausible scenario Sandra and I could come up with.
Dan looked at me in bewilderment. “What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
I leaned back in my chair, folded my arms and looked at him with an intense expression, trying to read his face. A nerve twitching, a dark glare, eyes that couldn’t look into mine – any sign that informed me that this man knew more. But he didn’t flinch one bit – I saw nothing but an open face that looked at me with a sincere and baffled expression.
I increased the pressure. “Don’t play dumb. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He scratched his forehead. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t the faintest idea. We were just having breakfast together, but now all of a sudden you seem angry and start saying all of these crazy things about the firm I work for.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice. “What’s going on?”
I let out a big sigh before I started talking about the red underwear that was discovered on Oliver’s body. How it had formed the first sign that his death wasn’t simply the result of a terrible accident. How I then stumbled upon hours and hours of footage of my husband and many of his colleagues, performing all kinds of unsavoury acts under the influence of drugs.
Once I’d finished speaking, Dan was gazing outside into the street, his mouth dropped slightly open, and the air in the room froze in suspense. He stayed painfully quiet as he ran a hand through his hair, which stuck up in peaks like yesterday – this time though, I didn’t dare laugh.
After a long silence, Dan stood up, started pacing up and down the room, and then turned his attention to me. “So, let me get this straight: you’re claiming that Mason & McGant deliberately puts their paralegals in a compromising position, records this all on camera, in order to ultimately be able to blackmail them?”
I nodded, following his movements with my eyes.
“And where do you think this all would have taken place?”
“In Mason & McGants’ house bar, on the top floor.”
“You’ve seen this footage with your own eyes?”
I lifted my index finger and nodded. “Yep.”
“Where’s the footage right now?”
“It’s still at Mason & McGant, in Oliver’s former office,” I reluctantly admitted. “I didn’t want to take the risk of removing them,” I clarified, but the argument sounded weak.
Dan shook his head in pity – I felt foolish under his gaze and bowed my head. “I’m sorry Jennifer,” he said, darkness crossing his eyes. “This story you’re telling doesn’t add up. I’ve never heard of such a bizarre thing. It seems impossible to me that I could have worked at Mason & McGant for several years without anyone ever mentioning this. And if you’re wondering whether they’ve also subjected me to this kind of initiation, the answer is no.”
Where his eyes had been friendly a while ago, a clear look of annoyance and wariness had now spread across his face. “But as I told you before, I did my training as a paralegal at another firm. So in that regard it fits exactly into your theory that they only do this to paralegals, doesn’t it?”
I cringed at his sarcastic tone and started doubting myself again. The confident attitude I’d adopted before had completely withered as my eye twitched in dismay. Was Dan truly unfamiliar with the dark side of Mason & McGant? If that were the case, then I’d shattered my chances of having a relationship with a wonderful man. On the other hand, if he did know about what was going on, he might be deliberately attempting to dismiss my suspicions as nonsense to throw me off the scent.
“Last night I was full of understanding for your mixed feelings towards dating, considering your husband’s recent death. I was happy to give you all the time to deal with that. But this here …” A groan accompanied the roll of his eyes, ripping whatever was left of my confidence to shreds.
He didn’t finish his sentence, but gave a big sigh as he shifted towards me and looked at me like I was some kind of maniac. “I’m sorry, but you’re imagining things. Obviously losing your husband has taken a really heavy toll on you. I’m sure it must be very hard, but I can’t help you with this.”
He straightened his back and folded his arms, a harsh look spreading across his face. “Let’s just say we had a very pleasant evening and keep it at that.” He lifted the corners of his mouth, but the result was more a bitter grimace than a smile.
Wait a second. Was he being serious? I glared at him, my cheeks flushing. “Are you kicking me out?” I hissed.
His lips formed a straight line and his jaw thrust forward. “I think it’s best that we leave it at this.”
I found his condescending tone infuriating. There was a roaring in my ears and a red mist appeared before my eyes. This guy had some nerve.
I ferociously pushed back my chair and jumped up. “That’s just charming,” I said coolly, my face a mere centimetres away from his, but inside I practically exploded. “Thanks for the nice breakfast. I wish you all the best.” At that preposterous, shady firm of yours, I added in silence.
Even before he could utter another word, I stamped upstairs, blind with rage, slipped out of his shirt and tossed it onto the bed. I flung on the clothes that I’d draped over a chair last night and snatched my handbag off the floor.
I ran downstairs again, opened the front door without saying a word, and slammed it shut behind me.
I stomped down the stone stairs to where I’d secured my bicycle to a lamppost. I jerked the wretched bicycle lock, which wouldn’t budge. When I finally succeeded in opening it, I jumped onto my bike without looking back.
The ten-minute ride home, leading me through the Vondelpark, which was already filled with a substantial number of people on this surprisingly sunny Saturday morning, did me good. The fresh air and the peaceful atmosphere in the park made the anger over the confrontation with Dan slowly subside. I thought about his reaction to my statements and came to the realisation that I should have seen it coming that he wouldn’t just buy my story. The leads I’d shared with him about Mason & McGant were far from water tight and convincing. The man had only just met me, so it was a no-brainer that he thought I was loopy.
When I arrived home, I saw on my phone that I’d received a message from Lindsey asking if I wanted to go for a bite with her and the girls the following evening. I shuffled into the living room while replying I’d join them only for drinks around eight and plopped down on the couch with a loud sigh.