Chapter 14 Superspy
Superspy
Dear Esme,
I will make sure your mother is home on Wednesday evening.
—Jack
Jack, how are you going to do that? She’s hard to pin down.
xoE
You want to watch one more?” Blair asked as she and Jack finished the third-to-last episode of The Bear on the Monday of Thanksgiving week.
“No more for me tonight,” Jack said, resisting the urge to elaborate. Lies failed when they got too detailed.
“Are you writing in the evenings?”
“It’s going pretty well.” That was not a lie if not strictly an answer to her question.
“Well, good for you.”
“If we stop now, we can watch the second-to-last episode tomorrow and the finale on Wednesday. Then it’s Island of Misfit Toys Thanksgiving, and—”
He shut his mouth. He was getting dangerously close to “too detailed” turf.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Triumph! Jack was practically a superspy with his machinations. He hummed the James Bond theme as he crossed the yard back to the pool house.
Esme had said that Blair was hard to pin down, but Jack hadn’t found that to be true. She was always home in the evenings—and Esme had also said her mom was hiding from her friends.
Jack was increasingly convinced that Blair had some kind of compulsive disorder, whether it had been formally diagnosed or not. Was she being held prisoner in her house by her own brain?
Well, it didn’t matter for ambushing purposes. He sat down to answer Esme’s latest email, which had come in while he’d been with Blair.
Dear Esme,
Don’t worry, it’s handled.
—Jack
He didn’t want to explain that he was rationing the last two episodes of a TV show to ensure that Blair would be home when she needed to be. He didn’t like thinking of himself as the kind of man who manipulated people with TV.
OK. Worst-case scenario, if she’s not home, I can lie in wait and surprise her when she gets home. Can you give me your phone number so I can text and we can communicate in real time if need be? xoE
Jack hesitated. Were they not already communicating in real time? Did he want the child of two famous Hollywood producers to have his phone number? And why had she switched to signing off with x’s and o’s?
He needed to get over himself. He gave her his number.
Thirty seconds later he had a text from her.
Esme: How am I going to get in without alerting her, though? There’s a gate around the property.
Esme: It’s Esme, by the way.
Jack: I can send you the code for the gate.
Esme: Right, but I can’t just walk through the front door. She’ll think I’m an intruder.
Good point.
Esme: But I don’t want to do the surprise over the intercom.
Jack: What time are you arriving, roughly?
Esme: My plane lands at four thirty, so I’ll probably get there around six.
Jack: Can you sneak around the main house to where I am in the pool house?
There’s a gate on the driveway to get onto the property, then a second gate on the side of the house that you walk through to get to the pool.
I’ll send you the codes for both. Once you’re here, you can enter the main house through the back. I have a fob for the back door.
Esme: But isn’t she going to panic if someone comes in her back door just as much as she would have the front?
Damn it, he was going to have to cop to the TV machinations.
Jack: Your mom and I have a TV date for Wednesday night, so she’ll be home and expecting me through that door. So she won’t be alarmed when that door opens.
Esme: You and my mom have a date?
She sent a bunch of emojis he didn’t bother trying to parse.
Jack: Not that kind of date.
She sent several dozen more emojis, most of which seemed to be variations on a sad face. Did she want her divorced mother to be dating him? These Kellermoon women were confusing.
Jack had been too quick to designate himself a superspy. He was writing on Wednesday afternoon when Blair derailed his hard-won plans.
Blair: I’m really sorry to do this, but I am going to have to take a rain check on TV tonight, or else be late. Like maybe as late as 8 or 9.
No. He had one job!
Jack: Really?
No, you idiot, she’s lying.
Blair: Yeah, I’m getting ready for year-end. I’m buried in financial spreadsheets. But I’m actually on a roll, so I’m just going to power through.
Damn it.
Blair: You can watch the next episode without me if you don’t want to wait.
Jack: I’m not watching it without you.
She sent him an emoji that was a little happy face with tiny hearts floating around its head. Dear God.
He needed something big, something bold, to get her home.
Jack: I was hoping you’d read the first two chapters of my book.
She didn’t answer for a long time.
Once again: damn it.
Blair: Can you send them to me and I’ll take a quick break and read them right now?
Jack: No email. I can print them out for you, but you have to read them here. Sorry, I know that sounds self-impressed and paranoiac, but I’m done sending around my works in progress.
He prepared his final volley. If he knew her, she wouldn’t be able to wait.
Jack: Forget it. It’s not important. We can do it tomorrow. I’ll catch up with you then.
Why was he trying so hard? This would actually work better. Esme would arrive while Blair was out and could wait for her in the house.
But… he wouldn’t get to be there for the surprise.
Blair: No, no, I’m coming home. I’ll see you soon.
Jack: Text me when you’re home, and I’ll bring the pages to you.
He blew out a breath and clicked over to a browser to check Esme’s flight, which, after all of this, had better be on time.