The Sandstone Affair

“Impossible. I’m sure they changed the locks when they threw me out and my contact says they have all new codes and passwords. Besides, if they catch you in my office, it’s going to tip them off you know.”

“Then I need someone on the inside. I need to meet your contact.”

At Mark’s sudden desire to meet Janice, I stall. She’s the one piece of the puzzle that I still control. Do I trust Mark enough to give her up to him? If it came down to a choice between the survival of Sandstone Ventures or Lynx, which would he choose? What would it mean for Janice and for me, if he betrays us all? My mind jumps back to the anonymous text I received weeks ago: “Do not trust him.” How would Janice take the news that I am sleeping with Mark? What would she think of my deal with him? Would she think that I am making a serious mistake?

“I need to think about it. I can’t just risk my contact for a whim,” I say with a little more defiance than I need to display right now. Mark’s jaws lock and his eyes narrow for a moment.

“That’s a pretty curious attitude for a woman who runs around assaulting people and whose whims have made my attempts to get to the truth a nightmare.” He grumbles. I soften my features and let him know I’m not trying to be difficult, just safe. “Fine, you think about it. But don’t take too long. The clock hasn’t stopped to consider the consequences.”

Mark doesn’t slam the door, but he closes it sharply enough for me to know he’s not happy with my stalling. I grab my purse and head out for a bagel and some groceries, my mind consumed with the pros and cons of allowing Mark and Janice to meet. If it weren’t for that stupid text, putting doubts into my head.

Chapter 13

I stop by the hospital to sit with Dad. That’s what the nurse calls it–sitting. He hasn’t really opened his eyes or communicated with more than a few hand squeezes since I left last night. I ask the nurse if this is normal.

“For him it is,” she says gently. I watched her come in with a cloth and some lotion. She washed his skin and then rubbed the lotion into his hands, arm and cheeks. “No matter how much fluid we give them, people tend to dry out in the hospital.”

“I feel so helpless,” I confess. I don’t know who this nurse is, but I make a vow that when I get Lynx back, I’m going to assign my best feature writer to do a story about ICU nurses and what an amazing job they do. She nods empathetically. “Is there anything I can do to help him?”

The nurse hands me the lotion and wash cloth.

“I meant isn’t there something I can do to change the situation for him? Help him wake up or get him to move around more? I know there’s really nothing I can do.”

“My experience is that when there’s nothing you can do,” she says gently squeezing the lotion into my hand and placing it on Dad’s arm. “Small things are sometimes all you can do.”

She’s right. I finish with Dad’s arm and reach for my cell phone.

“Mark, it’s Julia,” I say to the voice mail prompt, thankful I don’t have to speak to him in person. “Saturday at noon, Café San Carlo in the Village. Be prepared to pay for three.”

~~~

I sit with Dad most of the morning. He’s still breathing, but largely unresponsive. His grip is getting weaker. Yet, he did signal that he knows I’m there.

I tell Janice to meet me at 11:30 so I can catch her up with what’s happening and explain why I am allowing Mark to meet with both of us. I probably don’t need thirty minutes to get Janice into the swing of this meeting, but I have to give her at least some clues because I have no idea what’s going to come up.

“Café San Carlo?” Janice says as she sits down looking at the beautiful Italian décor. “Don’t you think this is a little pricey for a woman who just lost her job and a woman who is probably going to in a few weeks?”

“We aren’t paying. Order anything you want,” I reply, keeping pace with my friend. It’s nice to be talking about anything that isn’t serious. Of course, that’ll change soon. “I’m ordering the Seabass Marichiara and a nice glass of Lambrusco.”

“Really? Then I’ll just have one of everything and a bottle of something red,” she laughs. “Seriously, who’s coming to meet us, Rupert Murdoch?”

“Think local, less famous, better looking and much more stamina in the sack.”

“Um… wow… if he wasn’t rich I’d say the UPS guy who delivers in the afternoons, but I’m pretty sure he’s not eating here before hauling our packages up from the street. Who is it?”

“Okay, okay. It’s Mark. We’ve hit a break, or a snag–I’m not sure which–with his plan and we need your help.”

“Mark Stone? You got it. Anything to get his ass**le brother out of your office and off my ass.” She holds up a glass to get the waiter’s attention and orders a spicy Malbec.

“I hear you. The plan is to get Lynx back before the papers—”

“Hey! Wait a minute,” she interrupts me in mid-sentence, giggling like a schoolgirl. “How do you know Mark Stone is good in the sack?”

I blush as I realize this is not going to be as easy or smooth as I had hoped if I don’t cough up at least a few details. I plunge into the part of the speech I rehearsed, hoping Janice’s questioning mind doesn’t take me too far off the planned path.

“Okay, look. That’s why I asked you here early. I need you to know something and keep it to yourself. If anyone finds out this information, it could be bad for all of us–you included.”

“Tick, a lock,” she says, pretending to lock her lips and throw away the key.

“I’m… well… I’m kinda,” I stammer and play with napkin. Finally, I blurt it out like someone who is possessed. “I’m sleeping with Mark. It’s not a big thing, or a relationship and we aren’t moving in, getting hitched or planning kids. It’s just sex.”

“Wow.” Janice sits there with her mouth hanging open. I’m not sure if it is because of my revelation or the blurting, convulsive way I made it. “You and Mr. Stone? Wow.”

“Don’t mention it to him,” I say nervously.

“Why? Doesn’t he know you’re having sex?”

“No! I mean, yes! He knows we are having sex. I just don’t know if he wants you to know.”