Page 25 of Final Cost

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to see you.” I put some extra volume into my voice as I brush past her and make a show of checking out the stately staircase. It works. Mrs. Hooper’s head immediately appears around the curved archway at the other end of the foyer, her face registering shock, then delight. Even her little dog, Juniper, seems thrilled to see me. He zooms out, dancing around my feet. Guess he remembers me from the cruise. I settle the flower bouquet under my arm, scoop him into a football hold with my free hand and scratch his chest. I try not to radiate too much triumph in Tamsyn’s direction, but itisfun to see the bright color rush to her face and know that she’s as happy to see me as everyone else is, even if she’s too stubborn to admit it. “Good to see you, Mrs. Hooper.”

“Lucien Winter?” cries Mrs. Hooper, hurrying out and reaching for me with both hands. She’s wearing one of her floral dresses. She’s also wearing fuzzy blue slippers, which she shoots an apologetic glance at as she takes my hands and returns my double-cheeked kiss. “What a wonderful surprise to see you in my humble abode. I didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve put on my real shoes. And I’m not wearing any lipstick. Tamsyn, honey, why didn’t you tell me Lucien was coming?”

“Because I didn’t know,” Tamsyn says tartly with a final sweeping glance around to make sure there are no paparazzi outside before she snaps the door shut.

“Oh, I just look terrible,” Mrs. Hooper continues, now primping her silver hair in the console mirror. “Come in, Lucien, come in.” She waves me into the living room, a light and airy space with good lines. Although I’m not a fan of the cowhide rug and full-sized longhorn skull over the mantel. “Can we get you something to drink? And don’t forget to call meLucinda.”

“Don’t fuss. I apologize for my appearance,” I say, setting the dog down and gesturing at my baseball cap and runner’s clothes. I haven’t been running for once, but this is hardly what I usually wear for a day in the office. “I’m trying to be incognito.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Hooper says with sudden hushed solemnity. “You’ve had some troubles since the last time I saw you, haven’t you?” She shoots an apologetic glance at Tamsyn. “I was so happy to hear about Ravenna’s reappearance. For your sake, I mean, Lucien. And then so sad to hear that, she, ah…”

“I appreciate that,” I say, eager to shut this down before she gives herself an injury trying to think of what to say in this impossible situation.

“And if there’s anything I can ever do for you, Lucien,” she continues. “You’re such a dear friend —”

“Actually, there is something you can do for me. I understand you’re moving to Palm Beach? So the brownstone is on the market?”

Mrs. Hooper gasps, her jaw dropping, but I’m not concerned aboutherreaction. A subtle glance at Tamsyn shows me that she shares the older woman’s surprise. “Why,yes.”

“These are for you, by the way.” I pass her the flowers, a giant bouquet of all the bright blue hydrangeas I could find on the way over here. “I was sorry to hear that you had a health episode at the end of the cruise. And glad to hear you’re doing better now.”

“Oh, these arebeautiful,” she says with a tinkling laugh. “I love hydrangeas. Tam, run and put these in water for me. Grab the big crystal vase. Be quick about it.”

I realize that old habits die hard, but some old habits need to die. I’m looking at one of them as Tamsyn automatically hurries forward to do her former employer’s bidding and the woman thrusts the flowers at her with all the carefree entitlement of Cinderella’s wicked stepmother. I know this isn’t my house. I also know that the relationship dynamic between Tamsyn and Mrs. Hooper began long before I arrived on the scene. But the thing I know most of all is that Tamsyn is no longer at this woman’s mercy and I refuse to stand by while she’s treated otherwise.

“I’mhappy to help you find a vase for those,” I tell Mrs. Hooper, infusing a slight chill in my tone. “Tamsyn is a guest in your home now. Not an employee. Don’t put her to any trouble.”

Both women gape at me.

“As I was saying, I’m always looking for opportunities to expand my real estate portfolio.” I make a show of looking around the room and up at the ceiling. “Are those the original crown moldings?”

Lucinda peels her lower jaw off her hardwood floors with some difficulty. “Y-yes. I had everything repainted two years ago after I remodeled the kitchen. The furnace is only five years old. The water heater is a bit older. I’m in the process of having everything staged and freshened so I can put it on the market at the end of the month. I’m happy to have my agent send you more information —”

“No need.” I’d wandered over to the fireplace to admire the decorative inlay. “I’ll havemyreal estate agent get in touch by the end of the day. I’d like to make an offer. Unless you’re in love with the idea of formally listing the place and going through that whole process…?”

Mrs. Hooper’s response takes a lot longer to arrive this time. She can’t seem to get her mouth working at all. “Not at all,” she finally says. “I’m happy to entertain any and all offers.”

I silently hand it to the old gal. She’s got a nice poker face of her own. She knows not to make things too easy for me, and I’m sure she’ll negotiate a decent price for herself, but this is a done deal and we both know it. “I assume a cash offer is acceptable?”

She extends her hand to me and shakes with a firm grip, laughing. “I make it my business to warmly receive all cash offers.”

“Good,” I say as the two of us grin at each other and I take a quick glance at Tamsyn.

Her wide-eyed astonishment does not disappoint.

Much as I’d like to study it a bit more, a sudden unexpected wave of affection toward Mrs. Hooper hits me as I release her hand. I think about what would’ve happened to Tamsyn if the woman hadn’t hired her…If she hadn’t brought Tamsyn along on her Mediterranean cruise…If she hadn’t allowed Tamsyn to stay here after I dumped her the other day…

If Tamsyn and I had never met in the departures lane at LaGuardia.

Where would Tamsyn be now? Where would I?

Fuck.

I’m not a sentimental guy, but some things can’t be ignored. Your life can turn on a dime and it can depend on events entirely outside of your control. If the police wrap up their investigation into Ravenna’s death and come to all the wrong conclusions…who will Tamsyn have then? I know she’s a strong and self-supporting young woman, but who will look out for her? The possibility of that scenario makes my gut cramp.

“I want to mention…” I sound way too gruff all the sudden, so I pause to clear my throat. “I’m a newcomer on the scene. But I’m grateful for your presence in Tamsyn’s life.” I stare Mrs. Hooper in the face, take her hand again and squeeze it between both of mine. “I’ve got a funeral coming up. And some, ah, uncertainty in my life right now. I expect it to be cleared up soon, but it might not be.”

“God forbid,” Mrs. Hooper mutters.

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