sweater, making it asymmetrical in a controlled way, and interesting. It was hard to not look at him twice because her mind wanted to correct the buttons, then it decided they were okay.
Oh, how she wanted to hate him.
As soon as she got into the apartment, she really did hate him. A fringed leather bag sat on the coffee table, along with banker boxes of files, a laptop, and a sleek little printer. Stu was not a messy guy, as far as she knew, and he didn’t carry around fringed bags.
“What happened in here?” she asked.
Ruby punched her arm.
He headed for the kitchen. “I’ve been doing my piece. Do you want coffee?”
“Does the Pope crap in the woods?”
Ruby glanced down at the papers. “Why hasn’t your story come out yet?”
“Ruby!” Laura hissed.
Stu continued as if the question wasn’t rude. “It started out as amateur sleuth, your sister, hunts down rich woman’s killer. But I’m rooting out a lot of corruption. So it’s taking on a life of its own. The whole thing’s moving somewhere different. The editors are so cool. They advocate me taking it where it’s going to go. As long as it’s clean and on time and I loop them in, it’s no problem.”
“Cool. Hey, I need to use the ladies’,” Ruby said. Like a quick answer, a white noise they hadn’t noticed stopped, and the room got a little too quiet. It had been the shower, and whoever was in there was finished. Ruby cleared her throat and sat down. The silence was thicker than a down coat.
“You heard about Thomasina Wente dying during our show.” Laura despised thick silences.
“It’s hard to not hear about it,” he replied, his tone implying that there were bigger injustices in the world that might take up more space in the newspaper. “Another rich woman dies, and we’re all supposed to drop everything.”
“Oh, my God!” Ruby exclaimed. “Are you doing that thing again?”
“You mean standing up for the little guy?”
“No,” Laura said. “I think she means complaining about the coverage of rich ladies dying while you write a book-length article for the New Yorker about exactly that thing.”
She knew that was not what Ruby meant at all. Ruby had just been annoyed and probably hadn’t even noticed the duplicity. And though Laura had no intention of raking Stu too far over the coals for it, the rustling sound from the bathroom kept her from dragging out the issue even another five seconds. She didn’t want Tofu to hear her breaking Stu’s balls over that or anything. For some reason, she wanted the new girlfriend to worry about her, which ran totally counter to her own interests, but she had no control over the perverse impulse.
Stu helped her out by looking at Ruby and saying, “Touché.”
“Okay, we all have to get on with our day,” Laura said, still worrying about the person about to emerge from the bathroom. “Can I ask you for a favor? Because I know you know everything and everyone.”
“Naturally.” He sat down next to Ruby on the couch.
“I looked through Thomasina’s things by accident.”
Stu nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee laughing. Ruby elbowed him. “Sorry,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“All the stuff in her wallet was made out to Sabine Fosh. Credit cards. EU driver’s license.”
“Library card?” he asked.
She ignored his joke. “Her brother said this was kind of a persona she put on so she could travel and go to the grocery store and whatever without people knowing who she was. But you know, she was so rich that she probably had her maid go to the store. And she wasn’t ashamed one bit of who she was. So, can you find out the deal with this person?”
“Sabine Fosh?”
“No, the brother.”
He looked at her as if he was trying to read the book of her intentions. “What else? I’ll need all the details. Where and how you came upon this information and exactly what Rolf said.”
He already knew Thomasina’s brother’s name. Very impressive. Yet she didn’t
Oh, how she wanted to hate him.
As soon as she got into the apartment, she really did hate him. A fringed leather bag sat on the coffee table, along with banker boxes of files, a laptop, and a sleek little printer. Stu was not a messy guy, as far as she knew, and he didn’t carry around fringed bags.
“What happened in here?” she asked.
Ruby punched her arm.
He headed for the kitchen. “I’ve been doing my piece. Do you want coffee?”
“Does the Pope crap in the woods?”
Ruby glanced down at the papers. “Why hasn’t your story come out yet?”
“Ruby!” Laura hissed.
Stu continued as if the question wasn’t rude. “It started out as amateur sleuth, your sister, hunts down rich woman’s killer. But I’m rooting out a lot of corruption. So it’s taking on a life of its own. The whole thing’s moving somewhere different. The editors are so cool. They advocate me taking it where it’s going to go. As long as it’s clean and on time and I loop them in, it’s no problem.”
“Cool. Hey, I need to use the ladies’,” Ruby said. Like a quick answer, a white noise they hadn’t noticed stopped, and the room got a little too quiet. It had been the shower, and whoever was in there was finished. Ruby cleared her throat and sat down. The silence was thicker than a down coat.
“You heard about Thomasina Wente dying during our show.” Laura despised thick silences.
“It’s hard to not hear about it,” he replied, his tone implying that there were bigger injustices in the world that might take up more space in the newspaper. “Another rich woman dies, and we’re all supposed to drop everything.”
“Oh, my God!” Ruby exclaimed. “Are you doing that thing again?”
“You mean standing up for the little guy?”
“No,” Laura said. “I think she means complaining about the coverage of rich ladies dying while you write a book-length article for the New Yorker about exactly that thing.”
She knew that was not what Ruby meant at all. Ruby had just been annoyed and probably hadn’t even noticed the duplicity. And though Laura had no intention of raking Stu too far over the coals for it, the rustling sound from the bathroom kept her from dragging out the issue even another five seconds. She didn’t want Tofu to hear her breaking Stu’s balls over that or anything. For some reason, she wanted the new girlfriend to worry about her, which ran totally counter to her own interests, but she had no control over the perverse impulse.
Stu helped her out by looking at Ruby and saying, “Touché.”
“Okay, we all have to get on with our day,” Laura said, still worrying about the person about to emerge from the bathroom. “Can I ask you for a favor? Because I know you know everything and everyone.”
“Naturally.” He sat down next to Ruby on the couch.
“I looked through Thomasina’s things by accident.”
Stu nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee laughing. Ruby elbowed him. “Sorry,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“All the stuff in her wallet was made out to Sabine Fosh. Credit cards. EU driver’s license.”
“Library card?” he asked.
She ignored his joke. “Her brother said this was kind of a persona she put on so she could travel and go to the grocery store and whatever without people knowing who she was. But you know, she was so rich that she probably had her maid go to the store. And she wasn’t ashamed one bit of who she was. So, can you find out the deal with this person?”
“Sabine Fosh?”
“No, the brother.”
He looked at her as if he was trying to read the book of her intentions. “What else? I’ll need all the details. Where and how you came upon this information and exactly what Rolf said.”
He already knew Thomasina’s brother’s name. Very impressive. Yet she didn’t
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