Chapter 4: Sundays Off

I told Cain about the pay stubs on Monday morning, in the back of his car, because a warning isn't in the contract.

That makes it a favor, and I like to be clear about those.

He listened without moving.

Gus kept his eyes on the road, but the back of his neck had gone stiff.

"Dolan has fourteen months of them," I said. "He's going to read them out loud at the Gala."

"The night of the vote."

"Yes."

"Who gave him the stubs?"

"I'd guess someone in payroll with a tuition problem."

Cain looked out the window at the harbor.

He didn't swear or hit the seat. That's the thing people get wrong about him.

When he's angry, he goes quiet, and the temperature in the car drops about ten degrees.

"The addendum ends on the second of November," he said.

"Yes."

"The vote is the second of November."

"I noticed that too."

"I need you at the Gala, Ms. Bell, and I need you to be what you've been." He turned his head. "I'll pay you double for the month."

"No, thank you."

"Triple."

"I'm already being paid fifteen thousand dollars to do this. I'll do it right."

"Then what do you want?"

I thought about it for a block.

"Sundays," I said. "Sundays off, from now until the second. No phone, no car, no stairs to climb in heels."

"That's all?"

"I'd like to sleep until ten, once."

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