Abashed, “Oh, of course, I’m sorry I didn’t offer sooner. Please, help yourself.”
Phil lowered himself onto the plush cushion and pursued their conversation. “Hello, I’m Phil.” He extended his right hand.
Accepting his hand Claire responded, “Hello, my name is Claire.”
He couldn’t help notice how her green eyes glistened in the candle light. If only he could take her picture now. It would make Mr. Rawlings forget the absence of information during the last four days. “I couldn’t help notice your tan. Did you get that here at the pool?”
“Texas sun is quite intense.”
“I’ve been here since Tuesday. I find it hard to believe I’ve not seen you during the last four days…” He continued to fish for information. Unfortunately, Ms. Nichols stayed true to her story. She’d been here at the Hotel Valencia for the last four days enjoying the local sights including the Alamo and a boat ride on the river. It was a well-deserved retreat which included sleeping late, bedding early, and the completion of two novels. They’d been talking and laughing for about thirty minutes when Claire received a text message.
“I apologize, this is rude. It’s just that I’m expecting some very important information.”
“Please, go ahead and check your phone.” Phil wondered if he called the number he’d given to Mr. Rawlings if the phone in her hand would ring. He doubted it. The glow in her eyes and the obvious smile indicated her satisfaction with the information in the text.
Still holding her phone, Claire took her wine goblet and slowly sipped the red liquid. Setting the glass upon the small table she looked directly into his eyes. “Phil?”
“Yes?”
“I believe given the circumstances, I’d feel more comfortable addressing you as Mr. Roach.”
His back straightened. He hadn’t told her his last name. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, Mr. Roach,” she paused for effect. “I mean, I don’t really know you, not as well as you know me -- since you’ve been following me for the last month.” She allowed her lips to linger upon the glass’s rim teasing the liquid. Her eyes stayed on his.
He contemplated his options: lie, act ignorant, or come clean. “I’m not sure what you’re talking…”
“Let’s cut to the chase Mr. Roach. You were hired by my ex-husband to keep tabs on me. You’ve done your job quite well, that is until you lost me last Monday. Now, the way I figure it, you have two choices: be honest with Mr. Rawlings, tell him you don’t know where I was, or lie and give him just enough information to keep him pacified?” She sat the glass down. “How am I doing?”
“I assure you, I don’t know…”
“Given your inability to be honest with me – I’d assume you chose deception with your employer as well.”
“Ms. Nichols, I’m not sure how you’ve reached your conclusions.”
“For starters, I never offered you my last name.” She waited, he remained silent. Claire continued, “I decided to confront you tonight -- or should I say to have you confront me – for this discussion. Mr. Roach, I do not wish my where-a-bouts for the last four days to be known. Let’s both say I’ve been here in San Antonio alone, and you’ll confirm that, as the truth.”
“Ms. Nichols, tell me why I would possibly agree to this?”
Her broadening smile made her sun kissed cheeks rise. Without saying a word, Phil knew she had a plan. “Let me show you the text I just received. Actually it’s a multi-media attachment.” Claire extended her hand, with her iPhone angled for his maximum viewing pleasure.
Phil looked down onto the small screen and saw a picture of him standing near her table. She brushed the screen and another photo appeared; him sitting across the small table from her. She brushed the screen again; they were leaning toward one another across the small void.
“I don’t understand,” he confessed.
“Come now, Mr. Roach. You infringe upon people’s privacy for a living. That information is often used in less than scrupulous ways. Surely you recognize the same being done to you.” She waited; he remained silent. “You haven’t divulged the truth to Mr. Rawlings over the last four days. He’s suspicious and asking questions. I’d be glad to forward these pictures to the press. They do seem to enjoy writing about me. Or, perhaps I could send them directly to my ex-husband with information regarding our secret rendezvous.”
His mind spun. Shit! This isn’t happening. “Why would you do that?”
“To get you fired Mr. Roach. I don’t appreciate having a shadow everywhere I go.”
“I’d deny everything; explain that I was only talking to you for information.”
“That sounds plausible. However, I presume you were instructed to keep me in sight, not to make contact.”
She was right. That was his instruction. He bowed to her manipulation. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to report exactly what I told you. I’ve spent the last four days relaxing in sunny San Antonio and enjoying the sights.”
“Why haven’t I sent photos?”
“You were having problems with your computer, or your SD Card, or your camera… I don’t care. Tomorrow I’ll gladly don different clothes and allow multiple staged photos… adjust the date on your camera, and your story will be complete.”