Page 35 of Waves of Time

But when Thaddeus turned the corner onto Frank’s road, he tapped the brake and slowed them down, searching for Hilary’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Um,” he said, sounding fearful, “are we really going to that house at the end of the road?”

“Yes,” Hilary said, surprised.

“Frank Wilmington’s place?” Thaddeus asked.

Hilary straightened her spine. “How do you know Frank?”

Thaddeus eased his foot from the brake and continued down the road. His tone was strange. “Even before he moved here, he was around, I guess. I used to work for him every now and again.”

Hilary’s ears began to ring with fear. “You used to work for him? Doing what?”

“This and that,” Thaddeus said. “Maybe Aria has told you that I basically pick up as many odd jobs as I can. I have a lot of little siblings.”

Aria hadn’t told her that. Aria hadn’t told her anything about Thaddeus. The only thing she knew was that he maybe worked in the drug world— perhaps selling them. And now, she knew that once upon a time, he’d worked for Frank doing “this and that,” whatever that meant. Oh gosh.Was this really happening?

But it couldn’t be. Frank wasn’t involved in anything like that. Hilary had met Frank in San Francisco at Rodrick’s place. He’d been in the city on business. And besides, she was pretty sure people so deeply involved in the drug scene didn’t wear Italian-cut suits and suede shoes.

When Thaddeus turned into Frank’s driveway, Hilary thanked him and passed him an extra ten-dollar bill to go along with the Uber payment on his phone.

“I can’t thank you enough for your help today,” Hilary said, forcing him to take the bill.

“It’s just my job,” Thaddeus said, begrudgingly pocketing the cash. “Say hello to Aria later for me, will you?”

“Of course,” Hilary said, although she wasn’t sure she would.

As Thaddeus backed out of the driveway, Hilary adjusted her maroon dress over her thighs and lifted her eyes to the grand house before her, where, just now, a very handsome man stepped from the front door, smiling down upon her as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She just didn’t feel like that right now, not in the slightest.

ChapterThirteen

Hilary sat on Frank’s back porch with a notepad and a glass of orange wine in front of her. A fresh wind eased off the frothing waves on a particularly choppy Sound, where, far on the horizon line, a sailboat cut across the open ocean.

“Hard to believe we’re getting to the end of August,” Frank said as he poured himself another glass of wine and leaned back in his chair, smiling at Hilary. When she didn’t answer, he nodded down at the notepad and said, “I told you. We don’t have to do any work for the redesign today.” He paused again, then added, “I just really wanted to see you again.”

Even after what Thaddeus had hinted at in the car, Hilary was not immune to Frank’s charms. Her tongue swelled with desire, and she flowed through beautiful images wherein they kissed on the porch, in the kitchen, then up in his bedroom as the rest of the world went on without them.

“Should we make an appointment to talk business, then?” Hilary asked, her tone businesslike as a way to shield her from her own fears.

Frank’s laugh was open-hearted. “You must really love your job. It’s almost impossible to get you to stop doing it.”

“I do,” Hilary said, flipping the notepad closed. “I know it’s a rare thing for people to understand what they’re meant to do, and I feel grateful that I always knew this was my thing.”

Frank nodded. “It’s beautiful to have a purpose.”

Hilary sipped her wine. “And what’s your purpose, Frank?” Her heart thudded as she imagined him saying:my purpose is to sell drugs to people like your daughter, thus ruining their lives for immense profits.

Obviously, he didn’t say anything like that.

“I’m a people person,” Frank said. “I like bringing people together, figuring out how they can work best. Which is why I often work as a consultant, helping people and businesses maximize their profits.” He laughed again, then added, “I imagine that sounds really boring to someone like you. I mean, you’re an artist, and I’m a businessman. You should be off with a musician or something.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hilary said, finding herself breathing easier, even as a few flecks of white floated in her vision, directly around his head, as though he was an angel.

“I love what I do,” Frank continued, his eyes on the water. “It sends me all over the world and allows me to make my own schedule. And on top of the consultancy, I work in trading, in importing and exporting— a whole range of products that people need to survive.”

“Like what?” Hilary asked, her adrenaline spiking again.

“Fresh fruit and vegetables. Rubber for tires. Certain kinds of medicines,” Frank said, counting them out on his fingers. “People contact me with goods all the time and ask how I can help them get those goods onto the market to help make people’s lives better.”

“You sound like you really think about the big picture of the world’s needs,” Hilary said, unsure if she fully believed him, but wanting to so desperately.

---