The Wife Who Knew Too Much(25)

“Oh, I’m a spy?”

“An international assassin, with style.”

“Who told you I’m an assassin? That didn’t come from Lauren, did it? I know she’s your boss. She’s not very happy with me, these days.”

“I don’t listen to gossip.”

But she could tell from his inflection that he’d heard all about it.

“Good, because what you’d hear is totally wrong,” she said, then worried that that made her sound guilty, and started blathering, out of embarrassment. “Sometimes Levitt Global feels like a singles bar. At least, it did in Edward’s time. Lucky for him, he died before #MeToo really hit, or God knows.”

“That must’ve been difficult for you,” he said. “And a good reason to reinvent yourself, for the post-Edward era.”

“As a spy.”

He laughed. The sound was golden, his teeth perfectly white.

“Really, though. I don’t want to be Lady Macbeth. I’m seen too much that way already.”

“You’re viewed as a powerful woman in your own right. People have trouble with powerful women. That’s just misogyny. Personally, I admire you.”

“Thank you. I wish the public felt that way. What can we do to change that? I think about Jackie O as a blueprint. A famous widow who went on with her life, but she was popular.”

The crowd at the bar was closely packed. Connor put his hand on her waist and drew her closer, so they were touching from chest to thigh. There was an excuse for it—maybe. He was trying to protect her from the crowd.

“In a different era. And she may’ve been popular, but was she happy? Jackie lived in a gilded cage. Nina Levitt should be free.”

“You don’t think I’m free?”

“Are you?”

“Sir? Sir, excuse me? Your cocktails?”

The bartender was trying to get Connor’s attention, but he was busy looking into Nina’s eyes. She could feel her heart beating. He broke eye contact reluctantly, taking the drinks and passing the Vesper to Nina. She sipped it as they stepped away from the bar. It was clean and cold, with a kick as powerful as a hit of cocaine.

“Wow.”

“You like it?”

“Too much.”

“Good. I’m glad I got it right.”

“I’m not sure I can handle it, though.”

“I doubt there’s anything on this planet you can’t handle. Shall we?”

“What?”

“A walk on the beach? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people are staring.”

She felt breathless and nervous. Worried what people would think—what Hank would think, if he heard about this.

“Won’t they stare more if I walk out of the party with some man I just met?”

“I’m not some man you just met.”

“No? Who are you, then?”

“I’m your image consultant.”

“What image will I project if I ditch my guests and leave with you?”

“That you’re Nina Levitt, and you do as you please. The world can wait.”

“Okay. I like the sound of that.”

She took his arm.





13





On the beach that night, they kicked off their shoes. He took her hand to help her over some rocks, and it felt natural. They walked until the sound of the waves drowned out the band, and the glow of tiki torches faded to a smudge in the distance. The moonlight shimmered on the water, and the fresh, briny smell of the ocean filled her senses.

“So,” she said breathlessly, “what’s somebody like you doing working as an assistant in PR? Isn’t that a bit lowly?”

“I’m a late bloomer. Misspent youth.”

“I’d like to hear about that.”

“It’s a cliché, to be honest. I thought I could be a rock star. Dropped out of school to chase a record deal. Got close enough a few times that I kept at it longer than I should, probably.”

“Well. Music’s a tough racket.”

“Especially for the undertalented.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I could sing and play the guitar. I looked good onstage. But I was no songwriter. Eventually, I gave up. Went back to school. And was happy to get a job in a company that promotes from within. There are real prospects for me at Levitt Global. I’ve applied to the management program, so we’ll see where that goes. And I’d love to work on retooling your image. If you’d like. I’d love to be helpful.”

It was really the other way around—that Nina could be helpful to him. With a phone call, she could get him accepted to that training program, or have him promoted without jumping through any hoops at all. Connor knew that as well as she did.

They’d reached a beautiful, deserted stretch of beach. He took off his jacket and laid it on the sand for her. She perched gingerly on the edge of it, feeling adrift, out here all alone with him. Other than the Levitt Global connection, they had little in common, being from different generations and very different income brackets. But then he started talking, and it felt easy. They drifted from topic to topic—the company, PR, fashion, art, travel. He was charming and knowledgeable, from a background similar to her own.