Chapter Sixty-Three
Sixty-Three
Mary didn’t have a lot in her apartment in terms of food, so she ordered a breakfast delivery from Jolt N Bolt in the Dogpatch.
‘So,’ Denise said. They had both moved from the sofa to the dinner table in Mary’s living room. ‘How did you meet this Quaddra guy?’ She reached for a mozzarella, tomato and basil croissant that had come with their order. ‘When did you decide that he would become a mark?’
‘Well,’ Mary began. ‘I met him here in San Francisco, but I learnt about him almost a year ago. About six months after the Nelson job.’
‘What?’ Denise almost choked on her croissant.
‘You started looking for a new mark six months after Nelson? Are you nuts?’ Mary’s lips parted, as she was about to utter a reply, but Denise didn’t give her the chance.
‘And what the fuck, Mary? If we were to do this, this was supposed to be my turn to wed… your turn to be the mistress, remember? Too risky otherwise. What the hell were you thinking?’
‘That’s the thing, Denise, I wasn’t looking for a mark at all.’
‘Is that so?’
Mary paused her with a hand gesture. ‘After I got my identity change, I relocated to Nashville for six months.’ She saw no point in revealing anything about her encounter with gangster-suit man just outside The Whiskey Bent Saloon.
She didn’t want Denise to worry about something that Mary was sure posed no threat anymore.
‘From Nashville,’ Mary continued, ‘I traveled around, bouncing from city to city and state to state for almost two months. It was during that time, while in the Deep South, that I came across an article in a newspaper about this young billionaire, who had just acquired a couple of companies on the West Coast. There was a picture of him on the article – not a bad-looking guy – so I decided to dig a little deeper. The idea was just to start doing some groundwork and if he looked and sounded like a viable mark, I would then get in touch with you and pass on all the info because as you’ve said – it was your turn to wed, my turn to be the lover. ’
‘So, what happened?’ Denise asked, reaching for her orange juice. ‘You forgot to get in touch? Or was he just too cute and you decided that you wanted “first dip”?’
Mary lifted a finger at Denise. ‘I’ll get to that. Just give me some rope here and you’ll understand, OK?’
Denise didn’t look too pleased, but she played along. ‘OK, I’m listening.’
‘So,’ Mary continued. ‘Like I said, I dug around a little and it turned out that this young and filthy rich guy started out as some computer genius or something, who, years ago, when mobile apps were still in their infancy, created a couple of apps that became the industry standard. A few years after that, he sold his company to Google for an absolute fortune, but unlike what most would expect, this guy, despite being young and with over half a billion to his name, wasn’t the splashy kind.
He didn’t seem to be into showing off his fortune by sailing up and down the Pacific in luxurious yachts, or dating supermodels, or anything like that.
This guy was a “keep yourself to yourself” filthy rich-type. ’
‘Living by the rule then,’ Denise said.
‘Exactly.’
This was something that Mary and Denise had come across a long time ago – a list of rules for success – and the very first one was: if you’re doing well in life, if you are successful in whatever you do, shut the fuck up.
The more you brag about it, the more jealousy you will attract, and jealousy is never good.
‘So, you relocated to San Francisco,’ Denise said.
‘I did,’ Mary confirmed, as her lips stretched into an apologetic smile. ‘And yes, I could’ve… should’ve contacted you back then… passed on what I had on him… and asked you to relocate to San Francisco and get the ball rolling.’
‘So why didn’t you?’
‘Honestly? Because I knew that you would’ve fought it with the same arguments you gave me just a moment ago – it’s too soon after the last job… I’m tired of running and hiding… and all of that jazz.’
‘Which is true,’ Denise countered, her tone annoyed.
‘And I agree,’ Mary accepted it. ‘But like I said – I really wasn’t looking for a new mark, Denise, but this was too great an opportunity at least not to investigate further.
So instead of having an argument with you about the pros and cons of this job nine months ago, I decided to relocate and do that further investigation myself. ’
‘I see.’ Denise still looked doubtful.
‘There’s also the fact that it takes a lot more commitment and time to play the wife role than it does to play the lover,’ Mary told Denise. ‘And you hated having to play the wife with Erick.’
‘Yeah,’ Denise agreed. ‘That I’ll give you.’ Mary was slowly winning her over. ‘So how did the two of you actually meet then? Same as before? Bump into him at a party, or a bar, or something?’
‘Actually no,’ Mary replied, after having a sip of her coffee. ‘That was the original plan, but things played out quite differently this time.’
‘What do you mean? Like how differently?’
‘Well, as soon as I got to San Francisco, I got the ball rolling. I had already found out where he lived, so I began the usual recon work… followed him everywhere, trying to establish some sort of routine, you know? Usual stuff – find a place where he tended to go with a little more frequency – gym, nightclub… whatever – but in Quaddra’s case, there was no place that could really offer me the chance to casually bump into him.
He’s got a gym at home… he has all his shopping delivered to his house…
he only goes out for lunches and dinners with his close friends, or if it’s work-related…
no nightclubs… no golf clubs… no tennis clubs…
’ Mary shrugged. ‘There was nothing, Denise, with maybe one small exception.’
‘Which was?’
‘Quaddra loves wine,’ Mary revealed. ‘And there was this one little wine shop that he tended to go to often enough to almost create a pattern. So, my plan was to wait until he visited the shop and follow him inside. I would then, very clearly, pretend to be totally undecided on what to purchase – not knowing which wine pairs well with which dish and all that crap, you know?’
‘The old damsel-in-need-of-a-little-help trick,’ Denise chuckled. ‘Works like a charm every time.’
‘That’s why I was going with it, but I didn’t get the chance to.’
Denise finished her croissant and sat back on her chair. ‘Why? What happened?’
‘Because we truly met by chance,’ Mary explained. ‘At least a couple of months before I was ready for it.’
‘Stop… really? How? Where? At the wine shop?’
‘No.’ Mary shook her head. ‘At the gallery I’m working at at the moment. The place I was last night.’
She proceeded to tell Denise the cappuccino story and how she’d met Betsy at Jolt N Bolt. She then told her about the invite to the indie art exhibition and the black canvas, with the older couple in front of her, rocking their bodies from side to side.
‘So,’ Mary continued, ‘as the couple moved over to look at the next piece along, the person who was standing next to me asked…’ She put on a deeper voice. ‘…“Did you actually see any of the things that they were talking about”?’
‘And it was him?’ Denise asked, her expression clearly indicating that she was now enjoying the story.
‘Yep,’ Mary confirmed.
‘Stop… so what did you do?’
‘I fucking froze, that’s what I did.’ Mary chuckled. ‘Inside my head I was going – Oh my god. It’s him. It’s fucking Quaddra. What the fuck is happening right now? Why is he here? And why is he talking to me when I look like a goddamn hobo?’
‘What do you mean? Why would you look like a hobo?’
‘Because I was dressed like shit, Denise,’ Mary clarified. ‘And wearing barely any makeup. Not only had I completely forgotten about the exhibition, so I left home in a hurry, but my wardrobe at the time was a joke – five, maybe six pieces – and none of them exactly glamorous.’
‘So, what happened next?’
‘Well, I tried my best not to panic… to keep it cool… trying to be charming and all.’
‘You’re always charming,’ Denise said, nodding at Mary.
‘Well, that night, I didn’t think that my powers of seduction were really up to scratch,’ Mary told her. ‘In fact, I thought I blew it because he walked away from me within a minute.’
‘What? For real?’
‘Yeah. No smile… no flirting… no nothing. He just walked away. I was already thinking that I would have to go back to my original wine-shopping plan, you know? Bump into him again there – like in a week or so – but this time, dressed to kill.’
‘But that wasn’t how it happened, right?’
‘No. I bumped into him again at the exhibition, like ten… fifteen minutes later. We got talking, and this time…’ Mary gave Denise a shy smile, ‘… there was definitely flirting… from his side.’ The smile turned into a serious face. ‘Until I fucked it all up.’