“You need to put this in your piece,” she said thoughtfully. “Something our grandmothers got right.”
“Maybe,” I allowed, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I need to think on it some more. But right now I have a more pressing issue to deal with.”
“Like?”
“Like the fact that he didn’t fall for my shtick at all! And I thought I did a pretty good job setting him up, too.” I was indignant at the injustice of it. How dare Jack turn out to be decent?
She waved a hand. “Maybe he’s just saying what he thinks you want to hear. Gabriel does that all the time.”
“If that were the case, he would have agreed with the nonsense I was spewing, not pushed back on it.” I shook my head. “I don’t think this is going to be as easy as we thought. He’s just not as . . . manipulatable as I expected. Is ‘manipulatable’ a word?”
“Think it might be ‘manipulable’？” she guessed. “Let’s check. Hey, Alexa,” she called out, and I smirked—as writers, this was the type of thing neither of us could let go. “Is ‘manipulatable’ a word?” We both listened intently as Alexa confirmed that it was, in fact, a word. “Thanks, Alexa, you’re a sweetheart,” Nat said graciously.
“Anyway, I think I’m gonna have to come at this from another angle, though I do have an idea on that front.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
I flashed her a grin. “Call for reinforcements.”
* * *
Double date with a happily married couple—let him see what it’s like!
* * *
“Hi, give me a second to find my earpiece,” my sister’s voice rings out amidst a din of chattering background noise.
“No problem,” I reply, sidestepping a mountain of trash bags piled high on the sidewalk as I make my way home from work later that afternoon.
“Alright girls, I’m talking to Aunt Cassidy now. That means I don’t want anyone to interrupt me for the next few minutes. Okay?” It comes out as more of a threat than a question, and I stifle a laugh.
“Okay, I’m here,” she says, sounding harried. “Warning, this is the witching hour, so I’m not sure how long they’ll give me.” I hear a loud banging noise in the background.
“How are my sweet little nieces doing?”
She snorts. “Sweet, right. Do ‘sweet’ children cut a chunk out of their sister’s bangs when their mom is in the shower, then tell you it’s fine because Rapunzel did it in Tangled?”
“Oh no,” I say, trying—and failing—to contain my laughter. “How bad does it look?”
“Pretty darn bad. I’ll send you a pic.”
“It almost sounds like something you would have done to me,” I say pointedly. “She’s her mother’s daughter.”
“I wish I could deny that. Hey, I’m watching you,” she says loudly, and I know I’ve lost her again. “Yeah, you, girlfriend with the Scotch tape. If you keep pulling that much out, you’re gonna run out. Sorry,” she says, returning to our conversation. “I had the bright idea for the girls to help me wrap Greg’s anniversary gift. Already regretting it.” She exhales a loud breath. “I’ll tell you what, I am so looking forward to our night away on Friday. The countdown is on. You’re still meeting us, right?”
To celebrate their anniversary, my sister and her husband are coming into the city for dinner and a show, then staying overnight at a hotel while my parents watch the girls. Christine invited me to meet them for dinner, though I’d planned to stay only for a drink, not wanting to party-crash their rare night out.
“That’s why I was calling, actually. I have kind of a weird favor to ask.” I’ve reached the subway but the call will drop if I go underground, so I detour over to a nearby park bench and plop myself down. “How would you feel if I stayed for dinner after all, and brought someone with me?”
There’s a brief pause. “Shut the front door! You’re seeing someone new? Well, this is exciting! Who is he?”
I hold a hand up in a “settle down” gesture despite knowing she can’t see me. “Okay, so this is where the weird part comes in. I’m not exactly seeing him, per se.” I take the next few minutes to fill her in on everything: my deal with Gran, the story, Betty, and finally, on Jack.
She whistles when I’m finished. “So you’re telling me you want to go out on a double date with me and Greg where you’ll attempt to trick this guy into saying or doing something incriminating?”
“It sounds bad when you say it like that.” I belatedly look around to see if anyone can overhear me. “But that’s the gist of it, yeah. And before you say it, yes, I know how ridiculous this sounds, and of course, you’re allowed to say no—”
“Say no?” she interrupts, then lets out a crazed hyena-cackle. “You must be joking. Cass, do you know how boring my life is? Last night I took the girls out for ice cream on a school night and it was the most excitement I’ve had in weeks! You’re offering me the chance to go undercover for a story and participate in a sting operation. It’s like something out of a movie!”
A loud laugh bursts out of me and an old man shuffling past on the sidewalk jolts in fright. I mouth “Sorry” at him. “But do you think Greg will be up for it? I hate to turn him into an accomplice . . .”
“Pshh, we’re not telling Greg! That guy can’t keep a secret to save his life. Trust me, it’ll be much easier if we leave him in the dark.”
“Are you sure?” I ask doubtfully. “Because I’m going to be saying some wacky stuff that’s very out of character. Pretty sure he’ll know something’s up.”
“Nah, he won’t even notice,” she says dismissively. “Now, I think I need an alter ego, too. Who’s my character going to be?”
I groan-laugh. “Stop it, no! I need you to be the normal one here. I need you to back me up whenever I say something outlandish, help refocus the conversation if it goes off the rails, that kind of thing.” Provide a human buffer so I don’t have to be alone with Jack, I add silently.
“So you get to have all the fun, then?” she pouts. “Doesn’t seem very fair to me.”
“Can’t you ever let me be in charge of anything?” The perpetual lament of a younger sibling.
“I can’t help it. Your life is so much more exciting than mine and I’m jealous.”
I’m about to correct her when I hear a crashing noise in the background, followed by a wail so loud I have to jerk the phone away from my ear.
Christine swears under her breath. “Ella, what are you doing? You can’t swing the wrapping paper roll around like that! You just hurt your sister!”
“She should’ve got out of the way, then!” Ella’s little voice hollers back, and I snort.
“Cass, I gotta call you back,” Christine says, sounding stressed. “But I’m totally on board and can’t wait for Friday.” Click.
I chuckle and shake my head, grateful that she didn’t feel the need to chastise me for what’s clearly an ethical breach—though I suppose her unwavering loyalty is one of the reasons I called her. Christine’s always had my back, from the cradle to the . . . hoodwinking of unsuspecting suitors, I guess. She’s who I’d want by my side in a knife fight. She’d be my first call if I needed to hide a body.