Chapter 12
12
POPPY
I’ve worked with Marie for years now and I’ve never doubted her ability to deliver – like she just has – but I’ll also never get past how frustrating she can be. Why didn’t she tell us this before Kate got here?
‘Very helpful information, Marie,’ I say with a clenched jaw.
Ursula and I exchange a look of solidarity; I can tell she’s frustrated too.
‘Uh… sorry…’ Kate splutters. ‘How do you know all this – about the third woman? Lucia… um…’
‘ Rossi ,’ Marie supplies pointedly. ‘When Poppy contacted me yesterday, I looked into your Jon Dunn. Pfft, quelle espèce de fils de putain ,’ she says with a disdainful jerk of her head.
‘ Marie ,’ I caution. My French may be lacking but I understand ‘son of a bitch’ and there’s every chance Kate does too. We do not use profanity in front of clients at Ever After.
Marie shrugs like a bored teenager and it takes all my resolve not to growl at her.
‘Sorry,’ says Kate again, clearly perplexed. ‘I meant how – as in, how did you uncover the identity of Jon’s um… girlfriend ?’ she asks, faltering on the word. ‘And so quickly?’
‘Marie is one of the top investigators in this part of the world,’ says Ursula, leaping in before Marie can give one of her typical dry retorts.
‘Kate,’ I say, redirecting the conversation, ‘you have thoughts on how to seek retribution against Dunn. Could you please explain what you had in mind to Ursula and Marie?’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ she says, visibly composing herself.
To her credit, Kate may have been caught off guard by Marie’s revelation, but she switches seamlessly into her explanation as if she’s in a professional setting, outlining her idea clearly, articulately, and thoroughly. And she’s obviously given it more thought since we spoke on Saturday.
‘Now, Jon is legitimately wealthy, but it’s inherited wealth,’ she says. ‘He hasn’t worked a day in his life.’
‘ Oui , c’est vrai ,’ Marie concurs, capturing our attention for a second time. ‘The family’s wealth is generational. The last Dunn to work was Dunn’s great-great-grandfather. He owned a shipping company that was very profitable from the 1920s. All the first-born males since… lazy .’
‘All the more reason to get him to donate a large sum to charity, don’t you think?’ Kate asks, a bitter edge to her words.
‘It’s a compelling argument,’ Ursula replies. ‘But there’s wealthy and there’s wealthy . What’s a “large sum” to Jon Dunn? Marie, do you have any indication of his net worth?’
Marie consults a page in her tiny Moleskin notebook. ‘A hundred million pounds – approximately.’
‘Oh my god!’ Kate exclaims. She stares at Marie, wide-eyed. ‘Then I’m definitely keeping the ring!’ she declares with a scoffing laugh.
Marie sniggers at that – a rare occurrence – and I curb my own laughter.
‘Hmm,’ says Ursula, tapping a fingernail on the table, ‘it might be challenging to make a significant dent in that sum.’
‘Or we simply up the ante,’ Kate suggests with a wry smile, and Ursula nods approvingly. ‘To that point, the amount of the donation is not all of it,’ she adds, getting to the crux of the idea. ‘It’s the chosen charity. Apparently, Jon has a particular disdain for arts’ education. According to him, children should study the three Rs and nothing more.’
‘He sounds like an utter moron,’ says Ursula. She momentarily presses her fingers to her lips. ‘I am so sorry – that was incredibly unprofessional of me.’
‘Please, no apologies,’ says Kate. ‘He is a moron. A conniving, manipulative, arse-faced moron. Anyway,’ she says with a quick shake of her head, ‘I doubt it will be difficult to choose a worthy cause – if we can find a way to make this work.’
‘Actually,’ I say, realising something, ‘I should have thought of this before, but there’s a program called Creative Futures Fund here in London that my husband donates to. It’s for underprivileged children.’
‘Ooh, that might be perfect,’ says Kate, her eyes lighting up.
‘I’ll send you the information,’ I reply. ‘But now the hard part: how do we get Dunn to agree to the donation?’
‘ That’s where we need the most help,’ Kate replies. ‘I mean, if I have to see Jon, I will but…’ She appears apprehensive, shuddering as if a goose walked over her grave.
‘Actually, I don’t think that will be necessary,’ says Ursula.
‘Oh good. Wait, you’re not thinking about putting Adriana in the firing line, are you? I’d like to keep her out of this as much as possible,’ Kate says earnestly. ‘We’ve been messaging and she’s had a wobble since I was in Amsterdam. This is hitting her quite hard.’
‘No, no, I quite agree that we should keep you both out of harm’s way,’ says Ursula. ‘ And Ms Rossi – though what to do about her is a whole other kettle of fish.’
‘What did you have in mind, Ursula?’ I ask, steering her back to the most pressing matter.
‘Actually, Poppy, it would involve you .’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. What I propose is a sting .’ There’s a mischievous look in Ursula’s eye that’s starting to make me nervous.
‘A sting?’ I ask.
‘Mm-hmm. We honeypot Dunn with you as the bait.’
‘Wait, what ?’
‘Yes, we set up a happenstance meeting, you get close to the mark, draw him in, then convince him to donate a sizeable sum to charity.’
‘That’s a bit of a leap, don’t you think?’ I ask. ‘What makes you think I can convince him of that ?’
‘Years of matchmaking experience,’ she replies. ‘I can guarantee he’s the type of man who will gladly flash his wealth about to impress a prospective love interest. I’ve encountered Dunn’s type before many times – too many.’
She may have, but I remain unconvinced.
‘Are you su?—’
‘ Then ,’ she says, talking over me, ‘once the donation is finalised, we’ll gather the others, including Ms Rossi, and reveal that we’re onto him.’
‘And that his donation has gone to arts’ education,’ Kate adds with a satisfied smile.
‘Precisely,’ Ursula replies.
A dozen thoughts fly through my mind at once, including that Ursula’s description of this caper is so well-versed, she must have done this sort of thing before. But the stand-out detail is that she wants to use me as bait to hook a three-timing, lying bastard.
She wants me to become fiancée number four!
‘Uh…’ I murmur. I look to Marie, helpless, but she seems as bewildered as I am.
‘It all sounds brilliant, Ursula,’ Kate gushes. ‘Just like Ocean’s 8 ,’ she adds, a reference that baffles me further. We’re not robbing the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We’re trying to find a commensurate punishment for a wannabe polygamist!
‘Before we wander too far down that path,’ I say calmly, finding my voice, ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’
Kate and Ursula speak at once, their voices blending, but their meaning clear. They are both fully on board with this bonkers plan.
Wonderful – now what?
‘Marie,’ I say, turning to my would-be ally, my fingers mentally crossed, ‘what do you think?’
Her expression shifts and her eyes flash with excitement. ‘I think it sounds fun.’
‘ Fun? For whom? Not for me , that’s for sure,’ I respond adamantly.
She gives me her signature shrug and draws from her unlit cigarette. Okay, so Marie isn’t going to help me.
‘ Please , Poppy…’
Kate’s pleading tone breaks through my thoughts, and I look her in the eye.
‘The only way to stop Jon is to turn the tables on him. And Ursula’s plan does that. It will hurt him in the hip pocket, totally piss him off, and we’ll all get to confront him together – say our piece.’
I exhale through my nose, resigned. When it’s put that way, this plan does have merit.
‘If our bosses sign off on it, I’ll do it,’ I say, resigned.
Unsurprisingly, she ignores the ‘if’ part and beams at me.
‘But like I said before, no promises, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she agrees.
‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ says Ursula dismissively.
I could throttle Ursula right now. For years, she’s been a mentor to me, and I’ve always looked to her to be a beacon of sense and professionalism. Now she’s behaving like an evil mastermind.
‘Oh,’ says Kate as if she’s suddenly remembered something. She turns to Ursula. ‘You said you had a vested interest in my case. What did you mean by that?’
‘Well, just as you want Dunn to pay for duping you into an engagement, I’d like my former business partner to pay for compromising my professional reputation.’
‘And how does that concern me?’ Kate asks.
‘She owns Perfect Pairings.’
‘ Oh , I see.’
‘ Mm-hmm ,’ Ursula replies.
Marie clears her throat and we all look her way. She taps twice on her phone, then lifts her head and addresses us. ‘Dunn has a reservation at the Langham on Wednesday for two nights.’
‘So, not in New York then. Imagine my surprise,’ says Kate sarcastically. ‘Wait – did you determine that while we’ve been sitting here?’
‘ Mais, oui ,’ Marie replies as if it’s a stupid question.
‘Wowser,’ Kate says to herself.
‘Well, Poppy, it looks like we have the mark’s known whereabouts in two days hence,’ says Ursula. ‘Kate, we’ll need you to brief Poppy on all things Jon Dunn. Marie, keep digging – determine if there are any other women he’s romantically involved with.’
Marie nods her acceptance of her assignment and just like that, I’ve been usurped. Not only am I now positioned at the centre of this case, but Ursula’s issuing commands as if it belongs to her .
‘There’s something else we need to consider,’ I say, commandeering this discussion before Ursula volunteers me for anything else. ‘Do we continue to involve Adriana’s brother, Willem de Vries? He’s been instrument?—’
‘Yes, yes, we should definitely keep working with him,’ Kate interjects.
I catch her eye and she looks away, lips pressed together and her cheeks flushing. She must recognise what her outburst has revealed. And while Kate may believe she’s ready to leap into a new relationship, I truly hope she takes some time to heal.
‘It’s that he’s been really helpful, you see,’ she adds feebly. ‘So, it’s only fair to keep him in the loop.’
She does have a point – about keeping Willem informed. ‘Marie,’ I say, ‘would you be willing to liaise with Mr de Vries? He may have pertinent information to share.’
She regards me for a moment without speaking, and I have no idea how she’ll respond. Marie is a lone wolf, but she’s also been known to surprise me.
‘I’ve heard of him. I will contact him.’
Case in point: Marie already knowing who Willem is – and being willing to work with him.
‘Great,’ I say. ‘Now, the last thing to discuss is Ms Rossi. She may not be our client, but she is associated with this case. How do we go about informing her of Dunn’s duplicity?’
I look at the others in turn. Marie won’t want the task – she’s about as far from a people person as one can get. Ursula seems too caught up in her honeypot scheme. And Kate is way too close to it.
I suppose that leaves me.
‘I’ll do it,’ says Kate.
‘Are you sure? It’s a big ask.’
‘No, I want to. I know how it feels to be in that position.’
‘If you’re sure?’ I ask again, and she nods. ‘I s’pose you could ask Adriana to go with you.’
‘I don’t think she’s up to it, though.’
‘Oh right, of course,’ I reply.
‘But I’ll talk to Willem, and we’ll figure something out.’
Now I’m more convinced than ever that Kate’s hoping for something to happen between her and Willem de Vries, and I’m not sure what to do about it.
‘Excellent,’ says Ursula. ‘I love it when a plan comes together.’
‘Hah!’ barks Marie – her version of a laugh. ‘ The A-Team . I love that show.’
‘It’s a classic,’ Ursula agrees.
If I wasn’t already reeling from everything else that’s happened in this meeting, I’d die from shock at Ursula Frayne and Marie Maillot fangirling together over an eighties TV show.
* * *
‘Tris? I’m home!’
‘Hello, darling,’ he calls out. He comes out of our bedroom, having already changed into his typical post-work outfit of jeans and casual button-down shirt.
We may have been married for a year-and-a-half, but the sight of my husband’s washboard stomach beneath semi-sheer white linen and his denim-clad muscular thighs is enough to set my body alight.
As soon as I tell him my news, I’m dragging him back into the bedroom to have my way with him and get on with our baby making. Especially as my parents are visiting from Tassie soon. It would be extra special to break the news that they’re going to be grandparents while they’re here.
Tristan crosses to me as I deposit my handbag on the hallstand, then step out of my shoes. ‘Welcome home,’ he says, capturing me around my waist and dipping his head to kiss me.
I snake my arms around his neck as the kiss deepens, and it’s soon obvious that I’m not the only one thinking about sexy bedroom antics. But thoughts of today’s meeting keep intruding, ruining the moment.
‘Tris,’ I whisper against his lips.
‘Mmm?’
I lean back, breaking the kiss, and his eyes slowly open.
‘Something on your mind?’ he asks.
‘How can you tell?’ I ask, feigning disbelief, and we share a soft laugh. He watches me, patiently waiting for me to tell him what’s going on, and I gently ease out of his embrace.
‘Okay, here goes,’ I say. I take a deep breath. ‘You remember that case I told you about – the one with the guy who’s engaged to two women?’
‘I do, yes.’
‘So, it turns out there’s a third woman and I’ve been volunteered to become the fourth.’
Tristan blinks at me in surprise. ‘Am I going to need a whisky before you tell me the rest?’ he asks, and I can tell he’s only half-joking.
‘Probably. Actually, definitely . And I’ll join you.’
Tristan goes to our drinks trolley and pours two hefty slugs of his favourite whisky – Tomatin – and I climb onto the sofa, sitting cross-legged. He joins me, handing me a tumbler, and we clink the rims together, then take a drink.
‘Right, now that I’m suitably lubricated ,’ he says with a sexy smile, ‘tell me why my wife is about to take a lover.’
‘Eww!’ I backhand him lightly in the chest and he pretends that it hurt. ‘I am not “taking a lover” – and if you knew anything about this guy… Just, no , Tris. Blech ,’ I say with a shudder.
‘Duly noted,’ he says, landing a peck on my lips.
‘But I will have to pretend to be interested in the slimy weasel.’
‘Sounds, er… challenging.’
‘Well, yeah. And I’m going to need your help.’
‘My help? Wouldn’t this be more Shaz’s domain? Or Jacinda’s?’
‘No, because our mark is a toffee-nosed, lazy git from old money, and I’ll need your advice on how to charm him.’
‘Because I’m a toffee-nosed, lazy git from old money?’ he asks with a laugh.
‘No! But you did grow up around people like that,’ I reply, and he eyes me with amusement.
Tristan is from old money – and he did inherit millions from his grandfather – but unlike Jon Dunn, Tristan has worked extremely hard since he left uni. His professional accomplishments are testament of his tenacity and work ethic. He also donates a huge sum annually to an array of causes – including, of course, an arts’ education program.
‘There’s something else,’ I say.
‘Some other way to insult me?’
‘Hardly. You know you’re my favourite person.’
He winks at me.
‘No, it’s about that arts’ program you donate to, Creative Futures.’
‘ We donate to, darling,’ he says, correcting me. But as much as Tristan refers to his considerable wealth as ours, I still struggle to get my head around it sometimes.
‘Right – we donate to. Anyway, listen to this…’
As I fill Tristan in on the rest of the sting operation, including how it could boost the foundation’s coffers, he gets more and more excited.
‘What do you reckon?’ I ask.
‘I reckon that it’s brilliant. And even if means helping my wife get engaged to someone else, I’m in.’
‘Thank you, babe,’ I reply. I take another sip of whisky.
‘Just one more question,’ he says.
‘Mmm?’
‘Any chance this will be wrapped up before your parents arrive?’
‘Oh, right.’ Mum and Dad land in less than a month. How likely is it that the honeypot scheme will be behind me by then?
‘Judging by your expression, I take it that’s a no then?’
‘Not necessarily – maybe it will play out quickly.’ As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realise how unlikely that is. ‘ Ugh ,’ I groan, feeling the full weight of this assignment. ‘Honestly, of all the things I’ve had to do as a matchmaker, this may be the hardest.’
‘Well, a good thing you have a toffee-nosed, not-so-lazy git on your side,’ he teases.
Knowing I have Tristan’s support downgrades my dread to mild trepidation – even though it’s a lot to ask of my husband, supporting me while I ostensibly seduce another man.