She saw the lights before the actual car and made a silent wish that it was Jonathan, not the investor. Because Jonathan needed to arrive first. If not, her plan would fail.
The car rolled into Nadine’s old spot, and she shut off her engine. It was time. She shouldered her purse along with the large canvas bag and exited her car.
Jonathan waved as he rounded his Camry. “Hi there.”
She wore a confused look. “Hi. I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I have that meeting with an investor.”
“Oh, right! You did mention it’s today.” She cleared her throat and infused her voice with the right amount of admiration. “Well, you look great. Low-key power mogul.” If the power mogul were a slob kebab.
“Thanks.” He straightened his limp linen coat.
She pursed her lips in thought. “It’s funny I ran into you. I’ve been struggling with a business matter and have been hoping to talk to someone who can give me some solid advice. Do you have a moment?”
He glanced at his watch. “Uh, yeah. Only a minute, though. Walk with me?”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“What can I help you with?” he asked, unlocking the door to Nadine’s apartment. He flicked on the lights and set his briefcase on the round pedestal kitchen table.
She stood near the table, not moving to set down her bag just yet. “A friend has started a side venture. It’s direct sales. Are you at all familiar with those?”
“Of course. Back in the day, it was Tupperware. Now it’s something chef.”
“Right. Pampered Chef.”
“Seems to do pretty well. What’s your question?”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m not considering Pampered Chef. This is where I need some guidance. To give you some background, the start-up kit costs one hundred fifty. But the payoff is great. My friend has made enough money for a week’s vacation in Hawaii by what boils down to hosting parties.”
“So what’s the product?” he asked impatiently.
She placed the big canvas bag on the table and stuck a hand inside, knowing she’d have to work quickly to keep his attention. She pulled out a pair of pink marabou handcuffs. “It’s an adult toy and lingerie company. That’s where I need advice.”
“Uh-huh. What can I do for you?”
“Well, she’s had more success at couples’ parties. The men spend two to three times as much as the women. My concern is, will guys like you—you know, sharp, successful guys—think it’s cheesy?”
He shrugged, eyeing the bag. “Hard to know. What else does the company sell?”
“She gave me her starter kit to borrow for a few days so I can get some feedback.” Sliding a hand into the bag, she lifted a slinky piece of red silk and passed it to him. Next, she pulled out a black bra that was really nothing more than two patches of silk with lacy straps, along with a bottle of sparkling wine. Reading the rose-colored label, she said, “This is called Orgasmic Pink. Cute, huh?”
He cleared his throat again as he inspected the bra. “Yeah.”
“In fact, she said I can keep the wine. We should do a toast to your new business venture. We’ll only pour you a tiny glass, though, since your meeting is tonight.” Without waiting for his response, she expertly removed the cork with only the slightest pop.
He took the bottle from her, reading the label like it mattered. “I can hold my liquor, thank you very much.”
“Okay, then. Take a look at the other items in my bag while I find some glasses.” She knew exactly where they were, of course, but she opened the cupboard that housed water glasses first, just for show. “It’s been a while,” she said with a grin. “Cupboard above the knife block is where your mom kept the wineglasses.” Setting them on the counter, she felt a slight tremor of guilt about what she was going to do next, but the truth was, she’d researched extensively if the sleeping pills Nadine’s doctor had prescribed her had any deadly side effects. None was listed. There were tales of strange behavior and binge eating while sleepwalking, but it was a risk she’d have to take. Besides, she would give him only two pills. It was more than the recommended dose, but she needed quick results. They were already crushed in the glass. Forethought was the best thought.
“What’s this?” he asked, his finger hooked along a string of pearls that was attached to a snip of lace.
She turned. “A thong.” Tilting her head, she said,