Lana smiled. “No one you know.”
“As long as it’s not me.”
“Why?” I said. “Guilty conscience?”
He glared at me. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Lana laughed—but I could tell she was annoyed. “Jason. He’s joking.”
“Well, he’s not funny.” Jason added, with a Herculean effort at wit, “Ever.”
I smiled. “Thankfully, thousands of theatergoers around the world disagree with you.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t smile back.
These days, Jason’s goodwill toward me was entirely depleted— the best I could hope for was that he remain civil and not actually become violent.
He was jealous of me—because I provided Lana with something he couldn’t understand and was incapable of supplying. What was that? Well, for want of a better word, let’s call it friendship. Jason couldn’t comprehend a world in which a man and a woman could be such close friends.
Although Lana and I weren’t just friends—we were soulmates.
But Jason couldn’t understand that either.
“Elliot had a bright idea,” Lana said. “Let’s go to Mykonos tomorrow for dinner. What do you think?”
Jason grimaced. “No, thanks.”
“Why not? It’ll be fun.”
“Where? Just don’t say Yialos.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Jason sighed. “Yialos is a whole production. I thought we came here to relax.”
I couldn’t resist intervening. “Oh, go on, Jason. Think how good the food is at Yialos. Yum-yum.”
Jason ignored me. But he didn’t object further, knowing he had little choice. “Whatever. I need a shower.”
“That’s my cue, then. I’ll be off. See you both downstairs.”
I went to the door and walked out. I closed it behind me.
Then—and I wouldn’t normally admit this, but seeing as it’s you, I’ll be honest—I pressed my ear to the door. Wouldn’t you do the same? They were bound to be talking about me. I was curious to hear what Jason said the moment my back was turned.
Their conversation was faint but audible through the door.
Lana sounded irritated. “I don’t understand why you can’t be polite to him.”
“Because he’s always in your fucking bedroom, that’s why.”
“He’s one of my best friends.”
“He’s in love with you.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“Of course he is. Why else has he never had a girlfriend since that old woman he murdered?”
A pause. “That’s not funny, Jason.”
“Who said I was joking?”
“Darling, did you want something? Or just to start a fight?”
There was another pause, as Jason calmed himself. He continued in a gentler tone. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay. But lay off Elliot. I mean it.”
“Fine.” Jason spoke in a low voice. I had to press my ear hard against the door to catch his words. “It’s nothing serious.… I need you to sign something.”
“Now? Can’t it wait?”
“I need to send it out tonight. It’ll just take a second.”
Lana paused. “I thought it wasn’t serious.”
“It isn’t.”
“So what’s the rush?”
“No rush.”
“Then I’ll read it tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to read it,” Jason said. “I’m just moving things around. I’ll give you the gist.”
“I still need to read it. Let’s email it to Rupert, and he can take a look—then I’ll sign later. How’s that?”
“Forget it.” Jason sounded furious.
He didn’t explain—but I had no need of an explanation. Even from several feet away, through solid oak, I knew exactly what he was up to. I could tell by his hesitation and the change in his voice that the mere mention of her lawyer’s name had put him off. Jason realized that his little scheme, whatever it was, wasn’t going to work.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. It can wait.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. No worries. I’m going to have a shower.”
At that, I slipped away from the door. I could imagine what happened next.
I imagined Jason going into the bathroom—and the moment he was alone, his smiling mask falling from his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. There was desperation in his eyes. Was it a mistake, he wondered, talking to Lana like that? Had he aroused her suspicions?