“A friend introduced me to her,” I said, thinking of Mr. Bob.
“I never quite understood what she does, how she came into so much money. You should hear Norbert talk about her. He thinks the day practically starts and ends with her.”
My alarms were sounding. If there was any question designed to test me, this was the chief one.
“She’s his godmother,” I said.
“Yes, I know all about her and her husband being related to him, but I had the impression they were poor royalty. That villa you’re in is worth more than eight million dollars.”
I shrugged as if I had been in multimillion-dollar villas all my life. Besides, it was easy to see that a million dollars to the wealthy here was like a hundred dollars to the people back home.
“Mrs. Brittany is an enterprising woman,” I said. “She enjoys her success and uses her wealth wisely.”
“How?”
“Excuse me?”
“How did she get this wealth?”
I couldn’t imagine Norbert not telling him anything, but then again, perhaps he was as loyal to her as anyone who worked for her. Did he work for her, too? Did he send her clients from this world of wealth and glamour?
Once again, I shrugged. “She’s an even bigger mystery than I am,” I replied, and he laughed.
“Okay, we’ll go back to talking about me.”
“Good idea.” I leaped on the opportunity. “Is your marriage really prearranged?”
“That’s what my soon-to-be fiancée thinks.”
“What about you?”
“I’m still thinking about it,” he said, but not very firmly.
“Well, what is she like?”
“She’s not unattractive, but I can guarantee she doesn’t know much about cars or books or theater. I know she’s not too informed about stocks and bonds, either.”
“What do you talk about when you’re with her?”
“Our families, her latest fashion purchases, hot new pop stars. She, unlike you, hasn’t clocked that much experience in the so-called real world. She’s attended a charm school and went to a liberal arts college, but I think she was, how shall I say it, helped along?”
“How often do you see her?”
“When our families get together, which is monthly these days.”
“So when will you be formally engaged? If you agree, that is.”
“I don’t know,” he said, starting to become visibly upset. “I changed my mind. Let’s talk about something else rather than me.”
“Why will you do this if you’re not in love with her?” I pursued. I knew it was a no-no to make the man you were with feel uncomfortable about anything, but I was genuinely interested in him now, and it was still possible that he wasn’t part of any test of my new abilities.
He studied me a moment, and then, after taking a breath, he said, “It’s more of a merger than a marriage. I could end up running the whole game. As you know, we’re an international company, just making inroads in Asia, in fact, and with her family business tied to ours . . . we’re talking huge numbers. And I would be the man in charge.”
“Ambition, tragic hubris,” I said in a playful tone of warning, recalling my discussion of Macbeth with Professor Marx and the work Sheena and I had done with the play. We had read it aloud, with each of us playing multiple parts and enjoying our over-the-top acting. I thought I would make a very decent Lady Macbeth.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “All kidding aside, what are your interests? How come you’re here? How long will you be staying? Are you in school? Will you be going to scho
ol, college, maybe in Europe? Please. Tell me something about yourself, anything besides the chocolates you like.”