Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake (31 page)

‘I’ve booked my flight,’ said Minnie practically, thinking about the expense even though she was now richer than she could possibly imagine. ‘It leaves tonight.’

‘I’ll take care of travel costs.’

‘I would love to work at Greene Inc but I do need to go home,’ explained Minnie. ‘I’m getting married.’  

‘You could commute.’ 

Minnie laughed. Then she stopped laughing when she saw that Greene was completely serious.

He said, ‘I’ll take care of travel costs. I’ll also fly out friends and family whenever you like, as often as you like. It won’t cost you or them a cent.’

Minnie faltered. ‘You would do that for
me
?’

‘Is that so hard to believe?’ Greene looked quizzical, a rare readable expression.

‘Yes, actually,’ answered Minnie. ‘It is.’

‘I owe you much more than that,’ said Greene, turning his face to the window to avoid making eye contact.  

Minnie reached out and gently touched his arm. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

‘Then work here on a freelance contract,’ he urged. ‘You can leave when you like.’

‘I’m going home,’ whispered Minnie. ‘I need to go home.’

‘You
need
to work on those negotiating skills,’ said Greene, finally smiling. ‘Dealing with an exasperatingly stubborn counterpart derails deals.’

Minnie returned Greene’s smile. ‘I’m glad I found you.’

Greene nodded.

‘You know how sorry I am, don’t you?’ added Minnie. ‘The night at The Savoy?’ 

Greene smiled. ‘Yes, I do. No one has pursued me with such determination and demanded so little in return.’

Minnie shook her head. ‘I’m demanding a great deal from you in return. Fight back, remember?’

‘The only easy day was yesterday.’

‘Good,’ said Minnie. 

‘You know how to find me if you ever change your mind,’ said Greene.

‘I do,’ agreed Minnie solemnly. ‘Trust me, I’ll take the direct route next time – the one without a scheduled stopover at a San Francisco women’s penitentiary jail.’ 

Greene smiled. ‘Ah, that.’

‘Yes,
that,
’ said Minnie.

‘Right, then,’ said Greene, reverting to form. ‘You’ve turned me down; negotiations have stalled, so there is not much more we can do at the moment. You have a lunch appointment.’

‘Yes, I should go.’

Minnie collected her bag and stuck out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Mr Greene.’

‘Goodbye,
Minnie
Chase,’ said Greene. ‘Although I should warn you, I don’t give up easily.’

‘I’m absolutely delighted to hear that,’ said Minnie, thinking about his struggles ahead. He held onto her hand for fractionally longer than necessary. Minnie looked at him. This time he didn’t look away.

Minnie would often look back to this moment and wonder what she would have said next; what rush of words would have spilled out of her mouth before her head had a chance to assess damage control. However, she would never know because the video link message flashed up again and the moment disappeared into another communication. Jones & Sword again.

Greene seemed both relieved and disappointed at the distraction. He reluctantly let go of Minnie’s hand and connected the call. This time Ross Brown’s face filled the room. Ross had clearly gone to his boss’s school of veneered teeth in Minnie’s two-week absence from the firm. He grinned alarmingly at Greene and Minnie.

‘Hello, Mr Greene. I’m Ross Brown. I work at Jones & Sword,’ he explained. ‘I work very closely with A.A Jones. I’m her personal assistant.’

Greene nodded.

‘Ah, Minnie!’ exclaimed Ross, with a theatrical greeting, as soon as he spotted her. ‘It is wonderful to see you, but I’m
soooo
disappointed to hear that you won’t be coming back to Jones & Sword.’

‘
I’m
not,’ replied Minnie, smiling genuinely.

‘Of course, yes, well,’ said Ross, ever so slightly flustered. ‘I suppose that leads me straight to the point.’

Greene said nothing. Ross continued. ‘I’m considering a career move. It would be an
enormous
honour if I could work at Greene Inc. Relocation is
not
a problem. I
adore
San Francisco.’

Greene replied, ‘I was just saying how I needed more people like Miranda at Greene Inc.’

Ross Brown beamed. ‘Minnie knows that I am reliable, hard-working and loyal.’

Minnie glared at him. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this.

‘A personal recommendation from Miranda is something I would consider seriously,’ said Greene. ‘Indeed, I would probably hire him or her on the spot.’

Ross excitedly bit down on his movie-star lips. 

There was an expectant pause. Then Minnie realised with a jolt that both men were waiting for her to speak. ‘Oh right,’ she said. ‘Yes, of course.’

Ross’s satisfied smile threatened to split his face. 

‘I
do
have a personal recommendation,’ continued Minnie with a self-satisfied smile. ‘I know the perfect person for the job.’

The slightest shadow of panic flitted across Ross Brown’s eyes but his face-to-the-camera smile didn’t crack. Not yet.

‘He’s reliable, hard-working and the rest; actually, he’s more than that, he’s fearless,’ she said, scribbling down Bob Dotti’s phone number on the pad in front of her. She pushed it across the table towards Greene. ‘He swims with sharks.’

23

A kiss is just a kiss

Jackson had still not returned any of Minnie’s calls. She had hurt him more than she realised. She gave up all hope of meeting him and accepted Bachmann’s offer instead. There was no way Minnie could drag Bachmann near a diner so lunch was arranged at an exclusive eatery in the financial district on California Street. There was a sumptuous hush about the place. Cutlery didn’t clatter; it rested on expensive organic cotton. Waiting staff glided wraith-like about the restaurant instead of pounding a path back and forth sloshing coffee into refills. 

 Bachmann ordered an exotic-sounding cocktail while Minnie stuck to orange juice, no bits. This time Bachmann wasn’t surrounded by her usual guffawing entourage. ‘I liked it at Pillar Point,’ she explained looking over the top of the menu at Minnie. ‘I liked our private conversation. It was nice to talk to someone without it turning into a public debate or an interview.’ 

The food arrived and Bachmann began grilling Minnie about Greene. She was astonished when Minnie told her about Parkinson’s Greene, the charitable foundation. 

‘He is going public with the disease?’

‘It would seem so.’

‘How is he?

Bachmann still hadn’t spoken to him.

‘You should call him,’ said Minnie. ‘I know you care about him.’

‘He hates me,’ declared Bachmann.

‘No, he doesn’t,’ explained Minnie, ‘he just doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you.’

Bachmann turned her big beauty queen eyes on Minnie and said, ‘Couldn’t you have lied to make me feel a
little
bit better?’

Minnie blushed and tactfully added, ‘Okay, I’m sure he could spend an afternoon with you.’

Bachmann laughed. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘Seriously, though,’ said Minnie, ‘he is going to need people around him. Please call him.’

‘I do call him. He doesn’t take my calls!’

‘Then keep calling him. He will come around.’

‘You never give up?’

‘I like to see things through.’

Bachmann sipped her cocktail and studied Minnie. ‘Are you still hell-bent on being normal?’

‘I’m still getting married, if that’s what you mean, yes,’ said Minnie.

‘Is this wise?’

‘I was diagnosed as being “precociously intelligent” at 13 years old,’ explained Minnie, ‘which, as you can imagine, is a tragic label for a teenager who just wants to fit in.’

‘Ah,’ said Bachmann, smiling. ‘Give me death by lightning over “normal” any day.’

Minnie smiled and shrugged. ‘As I said, I’m a conformist.’

‘What if I said that you could be so much more?’

‘I hope so. When I grow up I want to be pretty and popular,’ said Minnie teasingly as she tucked into an elegant plateful of pasta.

‘Hell, when I grow up I want to be the first woman president of the United States of America,’ declared Bachmann, throwing her arms wide. ‘I’m serious.’

Both women laughed. Minnie never thought she would enjoy having lunch with Parker Bachmann, acting mayor of the state of San Francisco. People were full of surprises.

‘Underneath that dreadful haircut, Minnie, you
are
pretty,’ said Bachmann, slicing effortlessly through a small piece of grilled bavette steak, ‘you just need to believe it. And popularity only counts when people are counting votes, which leads me to my next point: I’ve officially announced my candidacy for Governor of California.’

‘Go on,’ encouraged Minnie.

‘But I’m supposed to be feminist friendly; and yet I don’t have a single female friend.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ said Minnie, sneaking a look at the menu to check out the puddings. ‘Or do I not count?’

‘Don’t be silly, darling, I’ve completely forgiven you for sabotaging my marriage and ruining my reputation as a reliable, caring and considerate individual.’

Minnie screwed up her face but Bachmann smiled.

Then Minnie looked alarmed. ‘There’s a man over there with a smartphone. I’m sure he is looking at
us
,’ said Minnie nervously. The catastrophic conversation with Greene that had been beamed around the world would never leave her.

‘He’s not looking at us, he’s looking at
me
,’ said Bachmann, flashing a face-to-the-camera smile. ‘Now finish eating that volcano of carbohydrates. I have places to be.’

Minnie grinned and continued to eat. 

‘I’m detecting something is a little “off” with you though,’ said Bachmann as she ordered an espresso while looking at her watch. ‘I thought you would be more, what’s the word I’m looking for – victorious? You found Ashton; your public apology has been a resounding success within the Parkinson’s community and, even more incredibly, you’ve managed to get Ashton to face this
thing
head on. Last but most definitely not least,’ she added playfully, ‘you’re having lunch with
me
. What more could a woman want?’

Minnie considered this and said, ‘Why is it that when you get what you want, you always want a little bit more? Or maybe I just want to
be
more. Does that make sense?’

‘You are making perfect sense,’ said Bachmann smiling broadly. ‘And who would have thought I’d ever have said that about
you
?’

Minnie insisted on paying for lunch even though Bachmann explained she could charge it to her expenses account. Minnie told her that she had earned the money and this was something she wanted to do – the least she could do after causing such chaos in Bachmann’s life. She suddenly realised that her millionaire status could buy her into a members’ only world. This place couldn’t be more different from the diner across the road from Minnie’s motel where people actually ate their food instead of pushing it around their plates. 

‘I demand that you keep in touch,’ declared Bachmann before they got up from the table. ‘I don’t want to lose my
only
female friend now that I’ve found her.’

She reached out and firmly held onto Minnie’s hand. Minnie in return leaned over and kissed Bachmann carefully on her perfectly powdered cheek. She inhaled perfumed lipstick, faint traces of coffee along with elderberry and cognac notes from a $47 cocktail. Their foreheads rested together for a second or so. It was a quiet and heartfelt goodbye until Bachmann started rearranging Minnie’s hair, fussing and tutting.

After lunch, Minnie headed to Fisherman’s Wharf intending to spend her last afternoon in San Francisco wandering around with the rest of the tourists, taking in the sights. Jackson had still not responded to Minnie’s invitation to join her. She headed in the direction of Pier 39 and ended up sitting on a bench overlooking wooden docks that had eschewed boats in favour of real, large sea lions. Minnie watched the animals preening and barking at each other, while others lazily dozed in the sunshine – a reassuring image of downtime contentment. It was a peaceful moment albeit a brief one as her phone pinged to alert her to a message. 

Angie had sent her a text, just three words: Google Parker Bachmann.

Minnie frowned and quickly did just that. It took a matter of seconds to see what Angie was talking about. Minnie almost dropped her phone; she couldn’t believe this was happening to her again. This time, though, there was no audio, just a series of photographs and imaginative headlines including a particularly repetitive one: ‘
Did secret lesbian affair break up Bachmann and Greene?
’

Minnie sprinted back to her motel to assess the damage. Meanwhile, Angie was acting as a news feed, emailing Minnie details to bring her up to speed.

‘It was just lunch,’ explained Minnie incredulously, calling Angie the minute she was safely back in her motel room. 

‘Tell that to the photographs!’ said Angie.

Angie was right. There was frame-by-frame footage and some extreme close-ups capturing Bachmann and Minnie at lunch. Some images highlighted them laughing together while others focused on Minnie leaning into Bachmann, her hair falling over her face. In a couple of frames, it did appear as though they were really kissing, looking so much more than just a friendly peck on the cheek. Then there were the ones that showed them holding hands as well as Bachmann tenderly touching Minnie’s hair. Filters had even been applied to some photographs to create a romantic soft-focus finish. It was a concise collection of images that had been carefully manipulated to create a totally different story of the events earlier that day. 

‘Bachmann will kill me,’ whispered Minnie.

‘It’s not your fault,’ hollered Angie. ‘How the hell were you supposed to know that someone was taking photographs?’

Minnie lay back on her bed and said, ‘Angie, tell me the truth, how much Internet traffic are we talking about?’