Stuff to Spy For (2 page)

It was at this time, when she asked me those questions, I realized she was either very interested in my life, or she was leading up to a story about her own life. You know how it is when you want to introduce a topic about yourself, so you start asking the other person if they’ve ever thought about or considered something, then you turn it around and talk about yourself? Well, it turned out, she needed to spill the story of her life. Just as well. My life sucks. Always has, probably always will.

“I’m very serious about someone, Skip.”

We were sitting on the patio of Barton G’s restaurant, having the Garden Sea Bass with pickled ginger and a variety of vegetables, including the flash-fried asparagus. It was more than I could afford but what the hell. With a little luck, I was going to pocket eleven thousand dollars in a very short period of time, and eventually I could afford this fancy place. For a brief time.

“It didn’t start off that way.”

I nodded. This was my second glass of wine, and I was feeling a little tipsy already. I could drink six beers without much effect, but I was trying to impress Sarah, and wine seemed more sophisticated. The problem was a couple glasses of wine could knock me out.

“We met through a …” she hesitated, “a dating service.” She folded her hands in front of her. Her golden hair hung in ringlets around her face, and I briefly glanced down at her low-cut blouse.

“A lot of people use dating services. This was an Internet dating service?” She needed a service? Every guy in the world would fall down and worship this girl.

She hesitated, searching my face with her big blue eyes. “It wasn’t quite like that.”

“What was it like?” I held a finger up and motioned to our waiter. “Do you have Blue Moon beer?” He rolled his eyes, then glanced at Sarah’s cleavage. Well, it was there for the viewing.

“I suppose the gentleman wants an orange slice?”

“No, thank you.” I shook my head. You always put an orange slice on a Blue Moon, and I really liked having an orange slice, but I didn’t like this guy’s attitude. I showed him.

Sarah pushed her vegetables around the plate with her fork, never looking at me. “I’m telling you this, Skip, because you may do work for our company.”

I couldn’t figure out why her love life would affect my business.

“This guy was—is—married.”

“You knew?” I was hoping her answer was no.

“It didn’t matter.”

“What didn’t matter?”

“Whether he was married.”

“Sarah, you’re losing me.”

She hesitated, picking up a spear of the crispy asparagus, biting off the head. There was something very sensual about the act. Sensual, and scary at the same time. “It’s not important, okay. The thing is, I’m seeing him.”

“And how does this affect me?”

“Sandler is the president of our company.”

“Wow.”

“I know, I know. If you’re going to date, you may as well start at the top.”

“Sarah, how does this affect my job?”

“I’m your contact, Skip. You and I will be working very closely together. If Sandy likes you, you’ll get the job and everything will go smoothly.”

“If he doesn’t like me?”

“He’ll like you.”

“Then it’s all good.”

“He’ll like you because you’re my new boyfriend.”

Man, I had stepped into it. She asked if I was seeing anyone. She asked if I was serious about someone and if I’d ever considered being a father. And now this? Talk about an awkward moment.

“Sarah, we went out a couple of times, but—”

“Sandy’s wife thinks he’s having an affair.”

“And?” She’d just told me he was. With her. And now she wanted me to be her boyfriend?

“She’s not certain. If she finds out for sure, she’ll destroy him.”

“Look, Sarah, I really want this job. I need this job, but what am I getting into?”

Sarah reached across the white linen-covered table and grasped my hand. “Carol Conroy’s father owns Synco Systems. So it becomes a real problem.” She squeezed my fingers tightly.

“Your beer, sir.” An orange slice was stuck in the opening of the bottle. I said nothing. The waiter lingered, taking another look.

“Sarah. You’re making no sense. I’d really like to help you here, but—”

“Carol Conroy is Sandy’s wife. If she can prove that he’s having an affair, she’ll have her father fire him. She’ll destroy Sandy’s career. Can’t you see that?”

I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where this was going, but that eleven thousand dollar commission was looking less and less attractive.

“Skip, I’ll make it very simple for you. I need a boyfriend. I need someone who, at least for now, appears to be my significant other. If you can do that, if you can keep Carol Conroy from suspecting that I’m having an affair with her husband, you’ve got the job. Sandy will hire you tomorrow. And there will even be a bonus for you. Now, how’s that?”

A bonus? My ears perked up. Maybe pretending to be her boyfriend wasn’t so bad. Of course, I’d have to figure out how to present this to Em. God, Em would never understand this, much less agree to it. “What happens when the job is done? You can’t keep trotting me out the rest of your life.”

“Sandy is in line for a huge bonus. So big he can start his own company. So big, he may never have to work again. So big, Skip, that Sandy and I can do just about anything we want to do. Go anywhere we want to go. Once he gets the bonus, he can walk out on his wife.” She finally released my hands, and a big smile
covered her cute face. “Skip, we’re looking at property in the south of France. Can you imagine that? The south of France.”

I couldn’t.

She took a deep breath and settled back into her chair. Sipping her cosmopolitan, she looked directly into my eyes. “You and I will have a pretend relationship, Skip. And it’s only for a couple of months at the most. And you aren’t seeing anyone, so what do you say?”

I had no idea what to say. I took a swallow of Blue Moon beer, trying to buy a little time.

“There’s a bonus, Skip. How does ten thousand dollars sound?”

I choked on the beer, spitting it all over the table.

“And there’s no sex?” Clearly James was disappointed.

I’d come clean on the dinner with Sarah. Of course, he wanted to know every detail.

“Come on, James. Would I even be interested?”

James looked at me, shaking his head.

“Hey, man, keep your eyes on the road.”

He slowly shifted his gaze to the road ahead of us. The rickety box truck chugged along, occasionally coughing and spewing puffs of black, brown, and gray smoke. The old girl burned oil, and we’d never had enough money to fix the problem. The problem being, the truck was old, and if we were going to use a truck as a way to produce income, we needed a new truck. In our current fiscal crisis, even a newer truck would suffice.

“A make-believe girlfriend. It’s very strange, amigo.” James pursed his lips, and affected a frown on his face. He squinted his eyes as if he was assessing the situation. I wished I’d never mentioned it.

“Actually, it’s a make-believe boyfriend, James. She’s the one
who has to pretend. Pretend that I’m her boyfriend until this Sandy character gets his big paycheck. Then, it’s off to France, or wherever they’re going. It’s all just a joke.” He’d beat it to death. I know exactly how his mind works.

“This paycheck—”

“Must be a monster. She said he’d never have to work again. They could do anything they wanted.”

“Man. Can you imagine how much that would be?”

“Two million or more?”

James laughed. “Try ten or more. These people live in a different world, compadre.”

“True.” How could someone imagine ten million? How could someone spend ten million?

We’d stopped at Pep Boys and bought a case of oil, then stopped at Gas and Grocery and picked up a case of Yuengling long necks. Much better than the stuff at home. James had an open bottle tucked beside his worn cloth seat and he checked the rearview mirror to make sure there were no cops following us.

“James, I haven’t agreed to do the deal.” The bonus was very tempting. But there was Em.

He took a long, deep swallow of beer, this time keeping his eyes on the road. “But you will get the job, pally. It’s the Lord’s will.” James’s sarcasm was shining through.

“All you have to do is pretend you like the girl and you make an eleven thousand dollar profit. It can’t be that hard, Skip. Think this through.”

I hadn’t told him about the bonus. Man, he would go crazy if he knew. And I knew that sooner or later I’d spill it. I always did. James, love him or hate him, was my best friend, and sooner or later you tell your best friend everything.

Unless you’re sleeping with his wife. And that thought got me thinking about Sarah, sleeping with somebody else’s husband, and that got me thinking about playing make-believe with Sarah,
and what Emily would say about that. And then I thought maybe I wouldn’t tell Em. Just not mention it. I wasn’t really cheating on her. I wasn’t really having any physical contact. I mean, how much trouble would that be? A couple of months—keep it low key, and then I get the bonus, the commission, and no one has to know anything.

“So tell me again. She meets this guy online?”

“Some sort of a dating service.”

“Sarah shouldn’t need a dating service. Is she still built like a brick—”

“She’s built, James. Very sexy. And she dresses in really high heels, a tight dress and a plunging neckline. I mean, it was the complete package.”

He pulled into our parking lot and parked the truck in front of our shabby apartment. A rusted-out Ford pickup truck was pulled in at an angle next to my old Chevy, and Jim Jobs’s Odd Jobs Chrysler van was on the other side with its hideous orange and red sign. Jim Jobs’s Odd Jobs/ No matter what the job, Jim Jobs can do it. We’d never explored the veracity of the statement.

“Think about what it would have been like if she dressed like that in high school.”

“I don’t want to think about it. She never would have gone out with me at all.” She would have been propositioned by every good-looking senior guy in our graduating class, and probably by every guy in her class as well.

“Skip,” he stepped from the truck, avoiding the loose running board. He’d twisted his ankle twice on that dangerous piece of aluminum. Someday I was going to get a hacksaw and just cut the damned thing off. “Skip, I love you like a brother—”

“But?”

“But you were never in her league.”

I smiled and got out of the truck. “Tell me, James. Am I in Em’s league?”

“You got me there, pard. No one is in her league. Your snotty little rich bitch? Just ask her.”

He was right, but it didn’t seem to matter to Em. She seemed to “get” me, and I was very happy about the relationship.

I put the case of oil behind the passenger seat, in the narrow closet of the truck. James took the case of beer inside. By the time I hit the front door, he’d popped the cap on his second bottle.

“Internet dating services.”

“A dating service. You could use one, James. It’s been a dry spell the last several months, hasn’t it?”

“Screw you.”

He sat down at the computer and booted it up, sipping on his beer. Actually, I’d picked up the tab on the case. It was my beer. Very seldom did James have enough liquid capital to buy the brown stuff.

“Internet dating services. If I just Google dating services, and put in her name, maybe I could—”

“She’s found the guy, James. I’m sure she’s not still listed.”

“Yeah, but sometimes these people keep their profile up for a while.” He stared at the screen, running his fingers over the keyboard. “You know, in case it doesn’t work out.” Click, click, click.

I wondered if Em had a profile on a dating service. I’d never even considered it.

“And his name was?”

“Sandy Conroy. Or try Sandler. And I’m positive he’d put his name up on there so his wife could find it and destroy the poor S.O.B.”

“No need to get sarcastic, pardner.”

“Think about it, James. It just wouldn’t be a sound idea. The guy would not advertise his own name, saying he was looking for an affair. He’s a big-time business executive. He didn’t get to be president by being stupid. Got it?”

“You never know, Skip.”

“Whatever.” There was no way he could figure this one out.

His fingers flew over the keys. I went into the kitchen and opened a beer. Yuenglings. They brewed it up in Tampa, so James’s reasoning was it had to be fresh. Bud was brewed up there too, but when I had a couple of bucks, he opted for Yuengling.

“We should have started an Internet dating service, Skip. Could have made a killing.”

“Do you understand anything at all about setting up computer systems?”

“No.”

“Do you understand anything about women?”

“Now that you mention it—” his eyes were laser focused on the screen.

“So, it’s better left to the computer geeks.”

“Point well taken.” He kept stroking the keyboard, and as I sipped the lukewarm beer I could see images racing across the screen.

“If I take the job, we’d have installers come in and tear out the old system. Then, they’d do all the wiring, with the motion detectors and everything.”

“Uh-huh.” He was leaning into the computer screen, studying the pictures.

“James, you’re not going to find her.”

“So, there will be installers?”

“A job this big, we’ll need a couple of supervisors. A couple of people who get to know the layout of the building and will be able to work with the installers, getting answers for their questions, assisting the operation and stuff like that.”

“Uh-huh. Gofers, right?”

“Any chance you can get a week off from Cap’n Crab?”

“What?”

Cap’n Crab was the seafood shack where James worked. He
cooked the crab. A far cry from his dream when he attended culinary school. But my security company was a far cry from my dreams when I attended business school at Samuel and Davidson University. James and I were still trying to find the American Dream. I was starting to think maybe, just maybe, I’d found a piece of it. “Can you get a week off?”