A Fine Mess

Chapter 14

Myles studied his expression in the mirror, assuming what he hoped was nonchalance and then hurried downstairs to the dining room. Moira had called as promised and their meeting was arranged; drinks in an exclusive hotel bar was not what Myles expected but thoroughly endorsed.

Miriam looked up from her chair and gave him a sugary smile, offering her cheek for his kissed greeting.

"It's lemon glazed salmon tonight, dear, with asparagus and pilaf."

"Wonderful." He groaned inwardly at the recipe recital, a ritual he'd endured since their first meal.

"You look chipper tonight." She passed a serving tray of the vegetable to him, watching his face.

Myles jumped inside, remembering to compose his expression. "I guess I do. I think Moira finally wants to engage my blessing for her to join the merger."

"She called then?"

"Yes, to confirm. Actually she mentioned it at the rally. I'm meeting her, uhm... tomorrow."

"And will you, put it all to bed, as they say?"

"Uhh- ah, I uh certainly hope to finalize the legalities, yes. Of course I'll have to meet with her a few times to get all the details correct, assuming she agrees that is." He added hastily.

"Of course you will." Miriam tasted a sliver of the salmon and expressed her delight with a series of warbles and moans. "Brilliant execution. We really are lucky to have a cook like Abatha."

"Uh huh."

"Myles, does Moira think- I mean does she tell you how she feels about doing this to Barton? Like somehow she's being disloyal...committing a fraud? You know, going behind his back?"

"Fraud? There's nothing fraudulent in assigning shares in this case. The move is good for the shareholders and the majority wants it to happen. Barton is just having trouble letting go of his baby. What puts such silly thoughts in your head?"

She ate another forkful of salmon and smiled down at the plate. "Oh, you know. In books, and I watch these plays on the TV and they remind me sometimes of what you tell me about your work, complicated plots of double and triple crosses and people running around creating false alibis and things... hiring gangsters and such. Things like that are always in the papers." She laughed and touched her cheek. "Look at me, blushing about such nonsense."

Myles chewed slowly, studying his wife while she blathered on. He had to admit; Miriam was hardly a mine of fresh thinking. "The thing about plays and movies," he said dismissively, "is that the people always seem to know so easily how to get in touch with that particular element in society that perform the necessary criminal deeds."

"That's true, Myles. That's very true. It's never like that in real life, is it?" She sipped some wine and continued eating. "You know, speaking of that one of the ladies at the club was actually bragging about her husband's company using fake testimonials for sales promotions. Can you imagine? Apparently they can put together tapes and film of almost anything these days and a person can't even tell the difference. Everybody, it seems, is selling lies."

"What company?" He asked, restraining his boredom.

"Oh, I don't know. One of those advertising places... like the places you deal with I suppose," she added frivolously. "I can ask tonight if you wish, I'll be at Rita's for the Arts Foundation meeting."

"Whatever you wish, dear." He mentally rolled his eyes.

•••

Peter opened the door and stepped back as Miriam swept into the room, turning a pirouette and laughing giddily.