Page 66 of The Business Trip

My phone started ringing. Over and over. Diana’s name.No thanks, sister.I just kept ignoring it until she finally stopped calling.

The rest of the day was all about laying groundwork for further text evidence. I started by scouting Trent’s neighborhood. Knowing he was going to be inside sick all day gave me the freedom to wander the area known as Peachtree Village. There was a nearby coffee shop named Peaches and Cream. Was everything in Atlanta named Peach something? I ordered two lattes and set them up on a table near a window, taking several artsy photos to make it look as if two people were having coffee together. The drinks came in brightly colored mugs with pictures of big peaches on the side, making them all the more distinctive.

Next I looked up Trent’s TV station and took an Uber there, snapping a picture of the outside with the NBC logo. Then I stopped at a convenience store and bought the tackiest mug I could find, one withGREETINGS FROM HOT-LANTAprinted on it, taking a picture to text to Robert as further evidence that Stephanie was texting him and she was here.

Finally, I met up with Raven at Centennial Olympic Park and had her take photos of me from behind my head, with the fountains in the background so that anyone who knew Atlanta would know the place. My hair looked like Steph’s—same color, same basic cut, and I had used her curling iron to give my flatter locks a little pop to better resemble hers. I wore her cream-colored coat and hat too.

Those chores being done, I could finally change my hair, and I did so that evening back in the motel, dyeing it jet-black and cutting it as short as I could.Goodbye for real, Stephanie, I thought as the final wisps went down the drain. I didn’t need to be her anymore.

Admiring myself in the motel mirror, I turned left and right. The cut looked good on me, my lighter skin contrasted with the blackest of black hair. The new look called for bright red lipstick, in my opinion, and buying a vibrant red color would also serve as a final vanquishing of Allison and the memory of her shade. I was putting her further into the rearview with every move on this trip.

Walking to the nearest CVS, I decided to treat myself, purchasing the most expensive brand they had. I deserved it. Adding more rubber gloves and alcohol wipes to my cart,I passed the travel section and saw there was a cloth passport holder, the kind that goes around your neck. I grabbed it, along with some travel-size lotion and shampoo. Noticing a bin of temporary tattoos near the cash registers, I picked out several, thinking they would help transform me. I could put one on a collarbone, one on a wrist, just obvious places where someone identifying me would mention them. And to complete the disguise one final time, I put my John Lennon glasses back on. I looked like a punk rock chick instead of a news executive, and I loved it.

Using some of Steph’s money, I rewarded myself with a shopping trip to the mall, buying clothes I liked in nicer fabrics than I had ever owned. Her credit cards from stores that ranged from Sephora to J.Jill to Macy’s made me so happy, and I charged up a storm.

I also added a new duffel bag and rolling carry-on to my collection. Steph’s suitcase would need to be disposed of near Trent’s place. If anyone found it, they would think of it as further evidence he had done something wrong and that he had been the one to dispose of it. Now that I wasn’t her anymore, I couldn’t be seen traveling with it.

Finally, I hit some thrift stores. You could take the girl out of the trailer park but couldn’t take the thrift shopping out of the girl, I thought, chuckling to myself, and came home laden with even more clothing, including a black knit hat and a ski mask. I would need those.

Treating myself to dinner at an Italian place near the motel, I had more wine, pasta, salad, and garlic bread than I had ever consumed before, going to bed with my belly warm and overstuffed. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had some disposable income, like I could do this without worrying about it. It was amazing, and I couldn’t believe it had taken me decadesto figure out a way to get this feeling. I was so used to living paycheck to paycheck and having everyone around me do the same.

Monday morning, I woke up to a missed text from Bruce.

Are you running late? Do you need me to start the meeting?

I had apparently guessed right that he was a coworker. I was contemplating what to do in response when I saw he was now calling Steph’s phone. Not long after, another text from Bruce:

Everything OK? We’re getting a little worried. People are asking about you. Aren’t you supposed to be back today?

OK, Bruce was obviously another person I would have to deal with, to fend off, but also to drop a breadcrumb or two as well. Getting up to take a shower and get dressed, I thought about my response, then sat by the motel window overlooking the bland parking lot and typed what I hoped was a “leave me alone for a while” text:

Hi, sorry for the late notice. Something very unexpected happened at the conference and it required me to go to Atlanta. I will need to be off this entire week. Maybe more but I’ll keep you posted. Thank you in advance.

That would further place me in Atlanta but not get him upset or raise suspicion like it might if I just said I was running off with a guy. Each person had to have their own breadcrumbs, ones that worked in the context of Steph’s relationship with them. I still believed coworkers needed something different from friends like Robert. At least for now. A few minutes later, a response from Bruce.

This is really sudden news, Stephanie. Can you tell me more? I can run the newsroom but we have a lot on our plates this week and I’m off Thursday and Friday, remember? Did you want to reschedule the election meeting too?

I started typing, then stopped, then started again. I could sense his anger, but if Stephanie was the boss, then this guy had to be under her in some way. He would have to listen to her. I put on my best boss persona and wrote:

Don’t worry, I’m fine. I know it’s sudden but sometimes things pop up. Please reschedule the meeting.

A short time later, his reply:

OK. Do you have a second to talk on the phone? If you’re going to be out all week there are some things we should touch base on.

Once again, I tried a few responses but deleted them. A thought came into my head: the voice cloning. I would send him a voice memo this time, rock-solid evidence that it was Stephanie responding. Going back to the program I had played with the night before, I typed this into the system and had Stephanie say it:

“No, I really don’t have a moment. Please don’t check in with me until next week. I will be very busy.”

Then I sent it to Bruce. A minute passed with no response. I could feel his confusion and annoyance. Finally, he just hit the thumbs-up button. Great. He was out of my hair for a while.

A text from Anna came in to my phone:

Glenn is getting weird but Raven is going to help out.

What a coincidence. I couldn’t help but respond:

Really? She’s helping me with something too

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