The meeting was a forty-minute call I could have done in twenty and I spent the remaining time thinking about Claire's mouth and making myself pay attention to the wrong thing on purpose.
It didn't work.
My assistant knocked at eleven-thirty. "Your wife called the main line. She said don't rush, it's not urgent, and also that she's taking your car."
I looked up. "She doesn't have a driver."
"She took Torres. She said she'd explain later and that Torres was fine with it." A pause. "Torres confirmed. He seemed—" she searched for the word "—pleased."
Claire had charmed my driver.
Of course she had.
I dismissed the call at eleven forty-five and was back at the apartment by twelve-fifteen and she wasn't there, which was fine, it was fine, I was not a man who stood in his own entrance hal
