Chapter 11: Eight Million

Leon didn't raise his voice.

He walked down the steps, held out his hand, and said, "Keys."

The driver gave them to him.

"How much?" Leon said.

"Twenty thousand, sir."

"For which part?"

"All of it. The car, the clause, what she said." The driver stared at the gravel. "I have a daughter in college."

"You've had eleven years of salary from me."

"Yes, sir."

"You should have asked."

Leon put the keys in his pocket.

"You keep the twenty. You're done today. Mrs. Merrick will take her own taxi."

He turned and went back up the steps without another word.

I stood in the doorway, and I felt my stomach clench, because the driver hadn't cried or begged.

He had just nodded.

I took a taxi to Velvet Hour, and I did not think about him again for several hours.

Reginald's invitation came at noon on Tuesday, Day 14.

It was a card, hand-delivered to the shop by a courier in a suit.

LUNCH. ONE O'CLOCK. THE ALDERMAN CLUB. COME ALONE, MRS. MERRICK. WE SHOULD TALK LIKE ADULTS.

"Don't go," Shawna said.

"I'm going."

"He's going to poison you."

"He wants to buy me."

"That's worse."

"It's cheaper to listen," I said.

The Alderman Club was on the nineteenth floor of a gray building downtown.

It had a dark paneled dining room and waiters who were not allowed to look at anyone.

Reginald sat at a round table by the window, with two men in suits on either side of him.

I recognized them from the gala.

The board members.

He stood up when I came in.

It was the politest he'd ever been, which made my skin crawl.

"Mrs. Merrick. Thank you for coming."

"You said we'd talk like adults."

"I did."

I sat.

A waiter put a glass of water in front of me, and left at speed.

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