Chapter Seventeen #2
“I don’t want a dog that scares me more than the bad guys.”
“Are you still worried about the break-in? Please come stay with me. We’d love to have you.”
I shook my head. “A security system and a dog should help. With Ali gone, I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”
“As long as you know that my offer still stands.”
A shelter volunteer cleaning out a kennel ahead of us smiled in our direction. She was middle aged with wavy, gray-streaked curls. “Are you looking to adopt?”
“Yes, I hope so,” I answered.
“What kind of animal are you looking for?”
“I was thinking of a big dog.” My gaze caught on a large brown dog with patches of white and black sitting in the corner of its kennel wearing a forlorn expression.
“That’s Binti,” the volunteer said as she came to stand beside me. “She’s a hound mix and a sweetheart.”
Lulu’s mouth twisted. “She looks so sad.”
“Her owner was a woman in her forties who was deported suddenly,” the volunteer informed us. “Poor girl has had a lot of upheaval and loss in a short period of time.”
I could relate. “Can I pet her? Is she friendly?”
“She’s very loving toward women, especially those who are the same age as her original owner. But she’s very barky around strangers who trespass on her territory.”
“Sounds like the perfect companion,” I quipped. “Sweet to me and mean to strangers is exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Amen,” Lulu said. “She basically needs a security dog.”
“This sweetheart is all bark and no bite,” the volunteer assured me. “Mostly.”
“As long as she seems scary, that’ll work.” I approached the dog, holding out the back of my hand so she could sniff me.
“Are you sure?” Lulu asked. “She seems so sad. Owning her could be depressing.”
“Who better than me to understand what she’s going through?” I tentatively petted the dog’s soft head. “What did you say her name is?”
“Binti,” the volunteer repeated.
Lulu chuckled. “Binti? Seriously? Maybe it’s fate.” We exchanged a laugh. In Arabic, “Binti” meant “my girl” or “my daughter.”
The volunteer brought the pup out to a general play area where we could interact with her. I sat on the floor with crossed knees and smiled, talking to Binti in a gentle, encouraging voice. The dog immediately came over and licked my hand.
“Look at that,” the volunteer crooned. “She went right to you.”
Even Lulu was amused. “It’s love at first sight.”
The feeling was mutual. After Hummus, I hadn’t wanted another dog because I didn’t want to clean up after it and worry where to board the animal when we went out of town.
But all those concerns went right out the window when Binti practically sat on my lap, stretching out and propping her chin on my knee.
Petting her with long, slow strokes, I was overwhelmed with tenderness for this poor baby girl who’d suddenly lost everything.
“What do you say, girl?” I murmured. “Do you want to come home with me?”
“I hope it’s OK that I came by,” Nasser said the day after I adopted Binti.
“Of course.” I invited him in, always happier when another person was in the house with me. “You said on the phone that you have an update?”
Binti came running around the corner, erupting in animated barking when she spotted Nasser.
“Whoa.” He backed away. “What is that?”
“Meet my new dog, Binti.” I ran a hand over her silky head. “Good girl.”
“When did you get a dog?”
“Yesterday. I feel a little safer with a big, noisy dog around.”
“Well, that thing is definitely noisy.” Nasser kept an eye on Binti. “She doesn’t seem very friendly.”
“She’s not a fan of strangers.”
“Do you know if she bites?”
“So far, she’s all bark and no bite.” I petted the dog vigorously. “It’s OK, Binti. Nasser is our friend.” I’d only had Binti for twenty-four hours. She was very loving and followed me everywhere. The volunteer said she didn’t bite. I hoped she was right.
“Binti?” he asked. “As in ‘my girl’?”
“Believe it or not, that was already her name.” I patted Binti for a couple more minutes until she calmed down, then led Nasser to the kitchen to pour us some iced tea.
“Here’s what they’re offering.” Nasser took a seat at the island. “They’ll agree to let you view the operating agreement provided you sign an NDA.”
“NDA?” I crossed my arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “NDA as in I can’t talk about anything that’s in the operating agreement?”
“Exactly. A nondisclosure agreement.”
“Fine,” I said immediately. “It’s not like I want to steal company secrets.”
“Signing a nondisclosure agreement means you can never speak about any names you learn as a result of what you see in the operating agreement,” he clarified. “That includes never telling anyone who owns the Durham house.”
“Who would I tell? It’s not like I want the world to know that my husband left a secret house to another woman.” I obviously didn’t want the kids to find out before I knew the whole story. If ever.
Ayla was already troubled enough. To learn that Ali had some sort of secret life would crush both her and Adam. Thank goodness the kids were away at school. If they were around full time, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hide my doubts.
“What happens if I violate the terms of the NDA?” I asked Nasser.
“There’s a financial penalty. You’ll have to pay them fifty thousand dollars each time you violate the agreement.”
I whistled. “They really want to keep their secrets, don’t they?”
“What do you say?”
“I’ll do it.” I made an instant decision. “I’ll sign the NDA.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. I have to know who got the house and what’s up with the LLC.
” Like was it created to hide the fact that Ali had a relationship with the woman who lived there?
A woman who probably got the house. It burned me up that Ali had not only had a possible affair but that he’d also used our money to pay for her house.
Especially considering how thrifty Ali was.
A woman would really have to matter to my husband for him to spend that kind of money.
“OK,” Nasser said. “I’ll let Perkins know.”
“What about the cash?” I asked.
“What about it?”
“I still want it. Go ahead and ask for more, but I’ll settle for the hundred thousand dollars they originally offered.”
I registered the surprise in his voice. “I thought you didn’t care about the money.”
“It’s not what’s motivating me,” I explained, “but I’m not stupid enough to turn down a boatload of cash. Besides, I want it just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“You’ll see,” I answered. “But hopefully it won’t come to that.”
It took another couple of weeks to hammer out a deal with Fred Perkins. Fourteen days that seemed to last forever. I couldn’t stop wondering what else Ali might have bought for the woman in the secret house. Not knowing the whole truth gnawed at me. Everything felt like it was piling up.
I was perpetually worried about the kids, especially Ayla. Then there were the break-ins. Would there be another intrusion? The constant uncertainty made it even harder to sleep at night.
At least I now had Binti. Not only did she make me feel safer, but she was also good company, following me everywhere, quietly dozing in my office while I worked and happily curling up in her new dog bed beside me at night. Her presence made evenings more tolerable.
We’d quickly settled into a routine. A long walk first thing in the morning, followed by her breakfast. After lunch, it was time for another walk, this one shorter, just around the block.
After dinner, we took a quick stroll up the street and back.
Just before bed, I let her out for a few minutes to do her business before we turned in for the night.
As advertised, Binti barked noisily whenever an unknown person came to the door to deliver a package or on other business. In the past, I would have found a dog’s constant barking at strangers very annoying. Now, I couldn’t be happier.
I was learning to operate solo.
I left Binti at home in her crate when I went to meet Nasser in Reston, where Fred Perkins had an office.
Perkins’s law firm was situated in a high-rise that towered over a busy town center.
Under the terms of the deal, Nasser and I were required to view the Five A’s operating agreement in Perkins’s office.
As soon as Nasser and I arrived, we were shown to a conference room with a glass wall that looked out on the corridor.
“Remember,” Nasser said as we took our seats. “We’re not allowed to take notes or pictures of the document.”
“They’re acting like they’re the CIA or something.
These people need to relax.” Not that I could.
My nerves were tight, and my heart thumped heavy against my ribs.
Here it was. The moment of truth. After weeks of wondering, I’d finally begin to unearth the secrets about Cozy Glenn.
I hoped with everything in me that the LLC papers would somehow exonerate Ali, leaving my memories of him intact.
Not only because I needed Ali to be who I thought he was.
But also because of what revelations about a secret girlfriend would say about how naive and easily duped I’d been.
An assistant brought the document in and set it on the table in front of Nasser. It was short, just a few pages. I inched closer while the assistant quietly departed, closing the glass door behind her. Nasser zeroed in on the key elements before I’d even started scanning the contract.
“Only two officers. One is Ali.”
“And the other?” My eyes searched the written agreement, trying to see where Nasser was reading.
“Samantha Price.”
“Who?” I didn’t immediately compute his answer. “What?”
He pointed to her name on the paper. “See it there?”
“Who the hell is Samantha Price?” I burst out in frustrated disbelief. “First Carol Darius and now Samantha Price?” Instead of providing answers and closure, the operating agreement generated more questions and confusion. Tears rose in my throat; I swallowed them down.