Chapter 4: The Yellow Umbrella

On day four the voice gave me a list.

"Daily side quests," it said while I was brushing my teeth.

"One: share an umbrella with the target. Reward: five percent."

"Two: feed the target a meal. Reward: three percent."

"It's July," I said around the toothbrush. "It's eighty-six degrees."

"The weather is not my department."

Lacey leaned in the bathroom doorway with her arms crossed.

"Are you talking to yourself again?"

"I'm rehearsing," I said.

"For what?"

"A very long conversation with a very rich man."

She sighed, took her own toothbrush off the sink and left.

That afternoon I bought an umbrella at a drugstore. It was bright yellow and cost nine dollars.

At six I was waiting under the hotel awning when Thatcher's car pulled up.

He got out into blazing sunshine, saw the umbrella and stopped.

"It's not raining," he said.

"It might."

"The forecast says no."

"Then I'm optimistic."

He walked around me and went inside.

"Affection: nineteen percent," said the voice. "Minus zero. Reason: tone."

"What was wrong with my tone?"

"It was fine. I am just counting."

I tried again an hour later.

The sprinklers on the hotel's front lawn run at seven. I had read the schedule on the maintenance board.

At seven they went off, and I stood in the middle of the path with the umbrella open.

Thatcher came out for his walk and saw me.

He looked at the spray going over my yellow umbrella.

"That is not rain," he said.

"That is a close cousin."

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