Chapter 9: Photographs

Dinah read the message on my phone standing in her kitchen in my sweater.

She read it twice.

"Well," she said. "That's one way to find out who your friends are."

"I'll make her take it down."

"You can't. It's already in four hundred inboxes."

She poured coffee with a hand that was almost steady.

"It's a good picture. I look like I'm winning."

"You were."

"I was." She almost smiled. "Don't make this about me. Make it about Tavish. He'll use it by noon."

He used it by ten.

A business reporter called me, then a second one, then a third, all with the same question in slightly different words.

Is it true that the CEO bidding for Hartung Aero is sleeping with the company's chief engineer?

My board chair in Houston called last.

"Rex, tell me it's a rumor."

"It's not a rumor," I said. "She's the best engineer I've ever met. And I'm still bidding."

"There's a conflict-of-interest clause."

"Then I'll sign whatever clears it. Tell the board I'll be on the phone at four."

I hung up, and Dinah was watching me from the doorway with her arms folded.

"You didn't deny it."

"Why would I?"

"Because it's easier."

"I told a man once I'd do everything in daylight." I held up the phone. "He's right here in my pocket."

My phone buzzed again.

It was a text from Loyd, who had learned how to send them only that winter.

"SAW THE PHOTO. TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH."

Dinah read over my shoulder and laughed so hard she had to sit down on the floor.

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