The Company You Keep (16 page)

Mimi shook her head. “Like I said. I’m probably the last person to know what’s going on. Probably my father needs his hand held at the tailor’s.”

“Good. That this gives me more time to get some juicy gossip. I mean, I’m just a boring new mom trying to run a nonprofit in Africa on no sleep. I can’t even stay awake long enough at night to watch reruns of
The Big Bang Theory.
Please tell me there’s something amazingly rapturous going on between you and Vic Golinski.”

“Rapturous?” Mimi raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Vic Golinski.” Lilah gazed off into space, then shook her head. “I was always too afraid to talk to him in college, frankly. He was so serious, even stern. He can’t possibly put up with your usual snide remarks, can he? Let alone forget about the past contretemps, shall we say? And you can’t possibly abide all that stick-in-the-mud demeanor. Geez, he made Mr. Rochester in
Jane Eyre
look like a party animal.”

“Where do you get off using words like
rapturous
and
contretemps?
Anyway, you don’t think he’s man enough to let bygones be bygones?”

“I don’t know him, but I do know you. The Mimi Lodge I know can’t let bygones be bygones. What’s going on with you two?”

“Your order?” the barista asked. A young woman in her twenties, her hair was shaved into a Mohawk, with the center stripe a vivid green—which somehow or other worked with the tattoo of Bambi on her upper arm.

Mimi rattled off instructions and elbowed Lilah aside when her friend reached for her wallet. “It’s my treat.”

Before Lilah could protest Sam threw the keys. They landed on the small counter with the take-out lids, stirrers, sugars and shakers of cinnamon.

“Hey, great aim, Sam. Your grandfather would have been proud,” Mimi congratulated him. Lilah’s father had been a star baseball player in college and had even insisted on playing in a softball game at Reunions two years ago.

Lilah sighed wistfully. “Yeah, Dad probably would have outfitted him with a glove by now.” She retrieved the keys and did a quick straightening of the counter.

Mimi pocketed her change and moved to the pick-up area. “Which reminds me—first things first, Sam’s present.”

“Fine, but just remember, I’m your best friend. If you don’t confide in me, who are you going to confide in?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mimi saw some people get up from a front table. “Quick, cut off that student on crutches for the table by the window. A baby stroller trumps a leg injury any day.”

“I’m prepared to head block an old lady
if
you agree to talk to me—dish the dirt. God knows, you made me tell all about Justin two years ago.” She pushed the stroller like a steamroller to the small round table in the front.

When the order was ready, Mimi joined Lilah, taking in a bentwood seat opposite her.

Lilah unstrapped the baby and lifted him to her seat. He immediately started banging the table with his fists. “Keep that hot cup on your side and dish,” she said to Mimi.

Mimi did as she was told, then ducked her head into the backpack and pulled out an oversize envelope. “Here.”

Lilah took it. “What’s this?”

“Open it and you’ll find out.”

Lilah undid the fastener at the back and slipped out some paper. She glanced at the cover letter, then flipped to the attached document. “What the…”

“It’s four shares in the Trenton Lightning—that’s the Triple-A baseball team in Trenton.”

Lilah looked up. There were tears in her eyes.

“I figured that since Sam is named after your father, he would have liked it.”

“I’m going to cry.” Lilah sniffed loudly. “Quick, give me one of those paper napkins.” She blew her nose. “You know, there are times you outdo yourself, Mimi Lodge.”

“C’mon. It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, it is. It’s wonderful and it’s remarkably sensitive. But don’t worry—I won’t divulge your sentimental side.”

“Good. Because I’d never hear the end of it.” Mimi took the cups off the tray and passed Sam one of the little spoons. He immediately put it in his mouth. “Now, me and Vic,” Mimi went on. “It’s like this.” She explained about running into him twice, how he was funny and charming and devoted to his dog. And how he’d managed to get her to ride in a car even though she was scared silly after the kidnapping.

Lilah sipped her drink. “So you’re telling me…”

“That he’s mellowed. No, more like aged well.”

Lilah nodded. “Why is it that men only seem to grow up and get interesting when they’re older?”

“Hold on a minute. You can’t tell me that back in college—even though you were engaged to someone else—you didn’t find Justin attractive?”

“Sure I did. Any woman with a pulse practically went gaga. But that’s different.”

Mimi frowned. “How’s that?”

“That was a crush. What we have now is potentially the beginning of love.”

“So you’re saying that what’s between Vic and me is love? I don’t buy that.” Mimi shook her head.

“What I’m saying is that it’s worth considering.” She let the statement hang in the air until she asked, “So, have you made any plans to meet him again? I mean, you
are
seeing him again, right? Even you can’t be idiotic enough to let whatever it is just pass.”

“No, I’m not completely hopeless.” At least Mimi prayed that was the case. “I wanted to thank him…and kind of apologize for what happened all those years ago. So—” she leaned forward “—this is where I really need help. You see, I offered him dinner.”

Lilah whipped her cell phone out of the front pocket of her overalls. “For this we need the big guns. My sister-in-law.”

“Penelope? I thought she was a curator of Rare Books?”

“She is. But she’s also a goddess of the Italian kitchen.”

Mimi felt her own phone vibrate in her jeans’ pocket. She slipped it out and saw the text message. “What do you know? Noreen.” She turned the screen to Lilah. “It seems she needs to reschedule our dinner. She has to go into New York to meet my dad. He must really be throwing a hissy fit. I’ll get back to her later.” Mimi went to rest the phone on the table, but thought otherwise when she saw Sam’s eyes light up. “You boys and your gadgets. Anyway, to get back to the subject of dinner—do you think Penelope could do Polish?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JOE STUCK HIS HEAD in Vic’s office doorway. “So, look what the cat finally dragged in. No offence.”

“None taken.” Vic shuffled through the pink message slips on his desk, and when he saw nothing that required an urgent response—or at least any more urgent than the usual—he placed them on his blotter and looked up.

“I was referring to Roxie.” Joe glanced down at the dog curled up on her orthopedic foam bed.

“I was, too.” Vic tapped the edge of his desk. “So I gather from the messages—” he pointed at the pile on the desk “—that our rep from the West Coast is late—fog at Newark with storms in the Midwest backing up the flights?”

“Yeah, lucky for you. Waltzing in—” Joe glanced at his gold Rolex, a ridiculous affectation, never mind the expense in Vic’s opinion “—what, forty-five minutes late. That’s not like you, Mr. Someone’s-Got-To-Keep-the-Family-Business-Going Golinski. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a big night last night. But then, I do know better. You probably were engrossed with something on the History Channel about King Tut’s tomb.” Joe smiled warmly.

“No, a minimarathon of old
Law and Order
episodes,” Vic corrected. He noticed Joe’s loosened tie. “And what time did you get in?”

Joe slumped into the couch. “About ten minutes ago. And let me tell you, I was up late last night, too, and it wasn’t due to some TV marathon. More personal, if you get my drift.”

Vic sat stone-faced. His brother liked to think of himself as the playboy of the Western World, or at least of central New Jersey. But Vic was pretty sure that it was more bluster than anything. Still, he didn’t want to deflate his brother’s fragile ego. His role was to be the responsible, grumpy older brother, looking disdainfully down at his ne’er-do-well brother. And in point of fact, that’s what he was.

But sometimes… Like this morning, in the rain, in the sunlight afterward… The double rainbow… Even if you didn’t believe in signs—and he didn’t—it was an unexpected backdrop to a magical moment… .

“Earth to Vic. Earth to Vic.” Joe snapped his fingers.

Vic shook his head. “Sorry. My mind was wandering for a moment.” He rested his elbows on the desk. “Now, do you really want me to ask for the gory details of your latest conquest, or can we get down to business?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to all that.” Joe studied him. “But first I want to know what’s up. You’re acting kind of bizarre this morning.”

Vic cleared his throat. “I was thinking of Mimi Lodge. I ran into her after my morning workout. Actually, she ran into me, if you must know.” He scratched an eyebrow.

“Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that. These things happen, especially in a small town.” He sat up straighter—any straighter and he’d need a chiropractor to unlock his spine.

Joe grinned but had the good sense not to push any further. “Well, all I can say is, keep up the good work. This project with Pilgrim could push our sales into a banner year, and in this economy, that’s worth a lot.” Then he rubbed his chin. “Still, you wonder—why the father tied the deal to you romancing her. Is there something wrong with her? She always looked pretty hot on camera, but then, you never know what a person is like in real life.”

“Conrad Lodge did not ask me to ‘romance’ anyone—just to serve on a Reunions panel with his daughter. It was a perfectly reasonable quid pro quo—more than reasonable from the company’s point of view, wouldn’t you say? And frankly, I don’t think it would even occur to him that a Lodge—any Lodge—would be interested in a Golinski.”

“I see what you’re saying.” Joe rose from the couch and walked to the open door. Then stopped. “Still, if you need reinforcements, you know who to call. Me.”

Vic picked up the pink slips again, looking for something to do with his hands. “Thank you for the offer, but I believe I can handle the situation. She’s invited me to dinner.” He looked up.

Joe smiled widely. “I knew it. So what do you intend to bring?”

“Bring?”

“To dinner, of course. Personally, I like to take some rich chocolate dessert. All women love chocolate, and if you bring along the whipped cream, too, you never know…”

Vic frowned. “I think a bottle of wine is a more prudent choice.”

Joe tapped on the doorjamb. “To each his own. In any case, let me know if you hear anything about the deal with her father’s firm. Things were moving quickly for a while, and now they’ve gone silent.”

“That’s not really unusual. There’s a lot of complicated financing involved.”

“I know, but still, I’m nervous. You haven’t heard anything from the father, then…since the initial call?”

Vic scoffed. “Let me be the nervous member of the family. I’m good at that.”

“Just don’t blow it with the daughter, whatever you do,” Joe warned him. “After all, aren’t you always saying that a CEO has to pitch in wherever necessary?”

“I never thought I would say this. But there are times I wish you wouldn’t listen to me,” Vic muttered.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PRESS GRABBED A SMALL table along the wall of the Circus Diner. The brown laminate surface had two paper placemats. Silverware was bundled up in a paper napkin on the left side of each mat.

A breakfast joint that offered bacon and eggs and waffles and all the usual morning fare at all time of the day and night, the Circus was another Grantham establishment—not so much for the university student crowd but for the townies. The Volunteer Fire Brigade always gathered there for breakfast on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Several local lawyers had their standing orders of two eggs scrambled with hash browns as they glanced over their briefs before heading into the office. And a core group of retirees gathered for oatmeal and stewed prunes and talked about property taxes and parking problems.

Nobody ever seemed to comment on the yellowing posters of Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey, or the cracked clown masks affixed to the paneled walls. The Circus would never be cool and have Cirque du Soleil paraphernalia or Big Apple programs. It was hopelessly dated—just the way everyone wanted.

Press pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. Eleven-thirty. Matt had finally contacted him that morning, after that whole surprising thing with Noreen. Press still couldn’t believe it. He wondered what Mimi would think, but she hadn’t shown up before he had to leave for town.

Anyhow, after failing to show last night, Matt had suggested they get together for breakfast-lunch at the Circus. Amara wouldn’t be able to make it because she had this babysitting thing for Lilah Evans.