Chapter 4 #2
Heidi, a twenty-something blonde in a blue Chanel suit, furiously made notes and said she would get right on it.
She was one of the staffers in public relations and her striking appearance was all that mattered to Geoff when he hired her.
Her beauty was only marred by a constant vacant expression on her face, as if she had lost something important but couldn’t remember what it was or where she had put it.
Geoff only hired pretty young women. He was more interested in their dress size than their résumé.
At the table sat Patrick, and beside him Molly Green.
Close beside him.
It was a long table. With plenty of space.
Patrick had his suit jacket off, draped over the back of his chair.
His tanned hands rested on his chin as he watched the news.
He wore a blue tailor-made shirt, a yellow tie and a vintage gold Rolex Submariner on his wrist, with gold and ruby cufflinks that Vanessa thought were way too gaudy.
They made him look as though he owned a private island. Which, of course, he didn’t. Not yet.
His father had two.
Molly was in a green silk blouse. Her short, dark hair curled over her delicate features, a contrast to her pale skin.
Her head was down staring at the iPad on the table.
It wasn’t overly warm in the house, the temperature set at a steady seventy-five degrees throughout.
And yet Molly had more buttons open on that fine green blouse than one might expect.
‘How’s things in the war room?’ said Vanessa.
Molly’s head shot up from the iPad, startled. She glanced at Patrick, then shuffled her chair an inch away from him.
‘Darling,’ said Patrick, ‘you’re back. How’s everything at the house?’
‘It looks great. Don’t let me keep you from your plotting. Molly, do you think we could have a quick word?’
Like all of Geoff’s hires, Molly was another beauty.
She had once heard Geoff at a party, parroting a line from another politician, making the claim that he didn’t have the smartest campaign team, but he definitely had the hottest. And Molly was hot.
Perhaps too hot. But of course Vanessa wasn’t thinking of the woman’s body temperature and those open buttons on her blouse.
Molly was sitting far too close to her husband.
It made Vanessa uneasy.
She had learned to trust her instincts.
Molly smiled, got up and followed Vanessa past the row of shopping bags in the hallway, and into the kitchen.
It was a great space, with an imposing marble-topped kitchen island and a vast twelve-ring stove.
Vanessa had only ever lit one ring, for morning eggs.
She was largely uninterested in food. Coffee was another matter.
There was always a pot brewing. She poured herself a cup, then opened the refrigerator, found the almond milk and poured a little into the coffee.
She turned to the counter, pulled out a drawer and her fingers hesitated over the neat pile of silver teaspoons.
Memory can be cruel.
Images flashed through her mind.
A pair of pliers gripping the spoon handle.
The flame of the blow torch bowing as it hit the bevel of the spoon, fire spilling from its edges as if it was liquid.
The head of the spoon blackening, and then glowing.
The hissing, the smoke and the smell of her own burning flesh.
And all this accompanied by the fear she had felt in that moment, alive again within her chest.
It played out in microseconds in her head, the moving images clear and crisp, accompanied by a sound. The sound she had heard as her flesh seared—
She grabbed a spoon, slammed the drawer shut and stirred her coffee.
She turned to face Molly and leaned her back against the counter.
‘We’ll reschedule the Hamptons party,’ said Vanessa.
‘Thank you. That frees up Patrick for the podcast recording. I’ll confirm with the bookers?’
‘Of course. It’s what Patrick wanted,’ said Vanessa.
‘His father seemed pretty insistent. It’s a huge podcast with millions of streams. He cares a lot about Patrick’s campaign.’
She noticed that in the time Molly had walked behind her, from the dining room to the kitchen, she had taken the opportunity to do up two buttons on her blouse.
‘I think he wanted to tell you himself, for sure. Sorry about the text,’ said Molly. As she said this, her left arm swept up to stroke a loose hair behind her ear and the sleeve of her blouse rolled down to her elbow, and Vanessa saw . . .
The bracelet.
Fine white gold.
There was no mistaking it.
The bracelet that Patrick had been hiding in his bathroom cabinet.
The bracelet that Vanessa assumed would be her anniversary gift.
Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but realized that she had said nothing. Her mouth was open, dumbly, her breath trapped in her chest.
Vanessa angled her gaze, making sure no one else was about to wander into the kitchen.
‘How long has it been now?’ asked Vanessa.
Molly’s eyebrows knitted together, just for a moment, trying to find the right context for the question.
‘Oh, I’ve been with the campaign for three months now.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I meant how long have you been sleeping with my husband?’
Molly’s lips curled tightly together, her eyes flaring at the bald accusation.
Vanessa heard footsteps in the hall, held her finger over her lips. When she spoke again, it was at normal volume. ‘How are you fitting in with the rest of the team? Heidi still giving you a hard time?’
‘Oh, ahm, no, not at all. We work great together, actually,’ said Molly, mirroring Vanessa’s voice level. She must’ve heard Patrick’s approach, and wanted to play along. ‘I feel like I’ve finally got a grip on the way things work in the campaign office.’
Vanessa blinked slowly, signaling that she understood the subtext. And that Molly understood that Patrick was way off limits.
‘I’m so glad,’ said Vanessa. ‘It can be difficult. You know, fitting in? Most PAs don’t last this long in the job.’
With a tiny cock of her head to one side, Molly appeared to register the implied threat in Vanessa’s statement.
‘Patrick has been great. I’m all up to speed with—’
‘Did I hear my name being used in vain?’ said Patrick as he wandered into the kitchen. He moved straight for Vanessa, putting a proprietary arm around her waist.
‘Not everything is about you,’ said Vanessa. ‘I’m just asking Molly if she’s finally found her feet. It’s not easy, running after you and making sure you’re organized and on time, and in the right place.’
‘Molly has been a breath of fresh air. She’s doing great,’ he said, and stood beside Vanessa so he could face Molly.
‘Thank you both,’ said Molly. ‘I’m really grateful for the opportunity. I enjoy the job. I really do. You’ve both been so kind and, well, really generous.’
As she spoke those last two words, she emphasized the point by placing her finger on her chin, flashing the same wrist on which hung the bracelet.
Vanessa’s jaw clenched.
‘I’d better get back to Geoff in the war room. He wanted to go over your schedule for the week. There’s a lot of meetings still to finalize and I have calls to make,’ said Molly.
She spun around and headed for the door.
Before she reached it, Patrick called after her. ‘You’re doing great, Molls.’
So, he had a pet name for her now, too.
‘Is she really doing great?’ asked Vanessa.
‘She’s wonderful, yeah,’ he said. And then, after a moment, ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I don’t trust her. Something about her feels off, like she’s hiding something,’ she said.
‘That’s all in your head. She’s fine. Look, I’m really sorry about the party. My father said the campaign comes first.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, then broke from her husband’s grasp, turning to face the kitchen window. In the reflection, she saw him walk away.
With every step, his gaze fixed on the figure up ahead.
The figure of Molly.
Vanessa knew right then that Molly could destroy everything. She also knew Molly had courage. She had stood there, in Vanessa’s kitchen, and flaunted that bracelet. That was brave, or stupid. Or both. There was a lot more to this young woman than Vanessa had first thought.
Vanessa could no longer ignore this situation.
Molly Green was a lot smarter than the ditzy wannabee models that Geoff usually hired. What was worse, Molly seemed to be hiding that intelligence.
There was no other way around this. Molly had to be dealt with.
One way, or another.