Janet perched on a bar stool at BLT and twirled the olive-studded toothpick in her martini glass. There were few things she would describe as being torturous, but sitting alone by the bar at a corporate function definitely rated in the category. Janet caught a glimpse of her reflection in the bar mirror: her hair covered her shoulders in loose, soft curls: she had snuck out at lunch to get it styled at the nearby hair salon, and she had to admit that it was a welcome change from her usual French twist. She wore a fitted black sheath with a matching jacket, which she had taken off and hung over the back of her chair, leaving her arms and neck exposed and flatteringly offset by the black material of her dress. All in all, she looked good, even if she did say so herself. Of course, she had hoped that Dean Snider would be there to take notice of this fact, but so far, he was not in attendance.
She checked her watch: it was only five-thirty, and people were just starting to arrive. She wished Dean would hurry up already. But then she was the one to blame for her current predicament: Dean had asked her to be his date for the corporate party several times, and not wanting to make a big deal out of the whole thing, she had evaded a reply. Truth be told, she had been tempted to accept Dean’s invitation all week. Ever since their accidental outing on Monday night, Janet had become intensely conscious of Dean’s presence at Bostoff Securities. Suddenly, he was in the hallways, in the kitchen, in the cafeteria; wherever Janet went, Dean seemed to materialize out of the thin air. These coincidental encounters were more than welcome on Janet’s part, as the two of them joked, laughed, and flirted, filling the grayness of the workdays with sparks of excitement from each other’s company. Well, at least that was true in Janet’s case, and she hoped that Dean felt the same way. She had been looking forward to tonight all week, imagining herself cozying up to Dean by the bar, her face being tilted at a seductive angle and her smile playing on her lips just so as she looked into his eyes, listening to his deep voice recounting yet another anecdote about some dim-witted trader being unable to turn on his computer. There was no denying it: despite her determination not to get involved with coworkers, Janet was ready to break her own rules for Dean Snider. The only question that remained was whether Dean was interested in turning flirtatious banter into something more: a question that was difficult to answer since Janet herself had difficulty defining just what she meant by ‘more’.
Janet stole a glance at her watch: a quarter to six and still no sign of Dean. Irked, she took another sip of her drink. That was the law of things: the minute one started wanting something, it was bound to become unattainable. All week long, Dean kept popping up before her with his uninvited banter, and now, when she finally decided to give the bugger a chance, he was nowhere to be found. But then perhaps it was all for the best. It was not as though she could afford the luxury of wasting her brain cells on flirting. If she was ever going to figure out what exactly was going on at Bostoff Securities, she had to keep her head cool.
“Is this seat taken?” A male voice woke Janet up from her reverie.
Janet turned around and saw Tom Wyman leaning against the chair next to hers. As always, he looked impeccable. His tailored suit did not have a crease out of place, and his tie immaculately matched his shirt: an intricate ensemble that he no doubt had spent some time putting together. Perhaps Janet imagined it, but it seemed to her that Wyman’s entire demeanor oozed with self-satisfaction. He looked like a cat that had just swallowed a canary.
Wyman took the seat next to her.
“So you’re a martini girl,” Wyman observed Janet’s choice of drink. “That’s my kind of girl.”
“I’m glad to know that.” Janet took a sip of her drink. She was not particularly happy to see Wyman at this very moment, but Wyman was at the heart of Bostoff’s business. If she was ever to get to the bottom of Bostoff’s operations, Wyman was the key.
The rail-thin brunette who was tending the bar zoomed over to Wyman, batting her eyelashes at him.
How was it that fashionable restaurants always had rail-thin women hosting, serving, and tending the bar? Were these stunning, but undoubtedly famished representatives of the female sex not tempted by the food that surrounded them at their places of work? Janet pondered while Wyman ordered himself a dirty martini.
“What can I get you, sir?” The bartendress’s misty gaze made it clear that she would be more than happy to oblige Wyman’s needs beyond the cocktail menu.
After a much deliberated measuring, stirring and pouring, the bartendress finally placed Wyman’s drink before him, and after casting one last longing look at Wyman and a fleeting look of menace at Janet, departed to address the needs of other customers.
“Cheers.” Wyman raised his glass.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Lisa’s and Paul’s engagement, of course.” Wyman smiled with an open look of a man who had nothing to hide.
“Yes, of course.” Janet returned his smile. She knew that Wyman would be a tough nut to crack, but it never hurt to try.
“Do you have any other reasons in mind?” Wyman made a barely perceptible shift in his seat, sliding closer to Janet.
“It looks like business is picking up,” she observed nonchalantly just as Wyman’s hand brushed against her bare arm.
Wyman stiffened. “Yes, indeed. From what I hear, the revenues are up. Of course, I’m not involved in the day to day operations, so you would probably know more than me. What have you seen on your end?”
“Oh, I just overheard the traders talking in the hallway. They sounded really excited about the business picking up,” Janet replied. She was not about to admit to the fact that she had been combing through the firm’s records.
“Another drink?” Wyman offered.
“I don’t see why not.” Janet pushed away her empty glass.
“Janet, Tom!” Lisa’s voice rang in the air. Janet had been so intent on observing Wyman that she had failed to notice Lisa Foley and Paul Bostoff walking toward them.
“Hello.” Janet slid off her chair to reciprocate Lisa’s embrace-outstretched arms. The gesture was surprising given the fact that aside from exchanging a few terse phrases, Janet had barely seen her boss all week. Lisa was still sore at Janet’s refusal of her matchmaking.
“I see you found Tom. Isn’t he great?” Lisa whispered, planting an air kiss on Janet’s cheek.
“You look wonderful, Lisa. Congratulations to both of you.” Wyman smiled officiously.
“Why, thank you, Tom!” Lisa leaned on Paul’s arm. “Don’t you think it’s time you tied the knot?” Lisa’s glance alternated between Janet and Wyman.
“Not all of us are as lucky as Paul here,” Wyman countered. “I’m still waiting for the right girl to come along.”
“Well, Tom,” Lisa smiled meaningfully, “perhaps you should open your eyes – or you just might miss her.”
Lisa’s remark made Janet wish she could fall through the ground. Unfortunately, she was standing on a floor of solid wood.
“Congratulations!” Jon Bostoff joined the group. He shook his brother’s hand and kissed Lisa on both cheeks. “Janet, it’s a pleasure to see you again. How are you finding it at Bostoff?”
“Wonderful, thank you,” Janet replied, taken aback by Jon Bostoff’s unwarranted attention. As far as she was concerned, she was but a mere speck on Jon Bostoff’s landscape.
“Janet is a tremendous asset, Jon,” Lisa cut in. “She’s done so much already.”
Jon Bostoff’s eyes lingered on Janet. “Great. I’m glad to hear it. Tom, make sure you show Janet the ropes.”
Wyman’s glance darted back understandingly. “I sure will, Jon. Not to worry.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Jon smiled. “Paul, Lisa – the guests of honor must do the rounds.”
Lisa lingered behind. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you and Tom,” she whispered to Janet.
Janet merely nodded. Annoyed as she was by Lisa’s remark, she was in no position to address it with Tom Wyman standing in front
of her.
“So how about that drink?” Wyman motioned at the bar.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Janet conceded. She did not intend to have another drop of alcohol, but she needed the pretense to get Wyman to talk.
“So, Janet, tell me about yourself.” Wyman raised his glass in another celebratory gesture.
“Oh, I think you pretty much know everything already. I spent the last four years at the DA’s office, went to Columbia Law…”
“That’s not what I meant, Janet.” Wyman reached for Janet’s hand, covering it with his wide palm. “I’d like to get to know you as a person.” He fixed his gaze on Janet’s eyes, waiting for her reaction. “Don’t you think it a pity that we so often know next to nothing about the people we work with? People we spend so much of our time with….”
Janet paused demurely. This was her opening, her chance to get him to talk.
“Yes, Tom. For instance, I hardly know anything about you, and I’d like to learn a great deal,” she purred.
“What is it that you’d like to know?” Wyman’s voice swelled with his ego.
“Well, you see, I’m still learning the ropes at my job, and it all seems so complicated to me. I would so much appreciate it if you could walk me through Bostoff’s business model and all the complicated things that you do for the firm.” Janet fiddled with her cocktail glass. “You’ve showed me a great deal already, but I must admit that it all seemed so complicated that I’m afraid I need another lesson.”
Wyman stroked his chin. “Sure, Janet, I’d be glad to. But first, what do you say we get out of this place and go somewhere quiet for dinner?”
“Why, yes, Tom. That sounds like a splendid idea.”
“After you, my lady.”
Janet started walking toward the exit. Her heart was beating wildly. Playing detective was fun, and it would be even more fun if she did not risk being implicated in the very scheme she was trying to unravel.
Tom followed Janet, but had to rush back to the bar to retrieve his laptop case that he had stowed under his chair.
“Almost forgot the darn thing,” he muttered. “It’s been a hell of day.”
Janet eyed Wyman’s laptop case from under her lashes. She would love to get her hands on the files that he kept there.