‘The letter probably lets me off the hook legally, but the whole situation is strange to me. She wants this guy, but she doesn’t love him.’

  ‘The way you describe him auditioning for a wife, it sounds like he’s in the same place.’

  ‘I can’t dither about it. I have to deliver it tomorrow,’ I said. I explained she wanted it to arrive right after they’d spent the evening together so he would know it was from her without putting her name on it.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ he asked.

  ‘What I’d like to do is see them together. Make sure that she was telling me the truth before he gets the note.’

  ‘Do you know where they are?’ he asked. I told him about the art opening. ‘But by now I’m sure they’re at the reception.’

  ‘OK, then, let’s go.’ He looked at the leggings and T-shirt I was wearing. ‘You might want to spruce up a little.’

  It didn’t take me long to change into my one good black dress. It worked for anything. I added some silver jewelry and a jean jacket. Finally, I let my hair down and put the red scrunchy on my wrist. It was one that I’d crocheted and it looked almost like a colorful bracelet. We left, slipping down the stairs and swallowing our laughter until we were outside. I had climbed into his black Wrangler, and we were on the Outer Drive, as DuSable Lake Shore Drive was commonly called, when I realized there was a problem. ‘It’s a private affair,’ I said.

  ‘There are benefits to the badge,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get us in.’

  We parked and went looking for the reception. The area around the restaurant set in the downtown park was roped off and a security detail was manning the entrance. I stood behind Ben as he talked to the person controlling who was allowed in. I couldn’t hear the words, just the tone, but it sounded like friendly banter. And then we were on our way in.

  ‘What did you say?’ I asked as we neared the entrance of the restaurant.

  ‘I told them I’d promised to take you here for dinner and had no idea it was closed for a reception. I asked if they could do me a favor, professional to professional, and let us in, so I could live up to my word to you.’

  ‘Very creative,’ I said. The lights were low inside. There was a buffet and tables set up around the large space. ‘I just want to see them together, and then we can go.’

  ‘While you’re on recon, I’m going to grab some snacks to keep me going until we eat,’ he said, and we separated. People were milling around, and I prowled through the crowd, trying to look at people without being too obvious. I spotted Amanda at the end of the buffet table. She was holding two plates of food and surveying the area. I slipped behind a couple so she wouldn’t see me. They started to move, and I took a step back, feeling my foot step on something just as a pair of hands grabbed my arms to stop me.

  ‘Hey, there, that’s my foot,’ a man’s voice said. I instinctively turned to apologize and cringed when I recognized Parker Andrews from the pictures I’d seen online. Our eyes met for a moment, and then I looked away, repeating my apology while I moved to the side. I stayed hidden while watching Amanda’s progress with the two plates. She set them on a table and then scanned the crowd. She waved, and when I tracked who it was aimed at, I saw Parker nod back at her as he began to thread through the crowd. He was stopped continuously by people who seemed to know him. He was mannerly and polite as he acknowledged each person, but even at a distance, I picked up the flatness of his gaze. It reconfirmed what I’d thought: he was someone who needed some fun. When he reached the table Amanda had commandeered for them, he touched her arm and seemed to be thanking her. There wasn’t a lot of warmth between them, but certainly no animosity either.

  ‘Mission accomplished,’ I said to Ben when I found him in the corner sipping a beer and eating some appetizers. He held out the plate and pointed to several pieces of a sushi roll. ‘Freshly made and all vegetarian,’ he said, nodding toward a bar set up with a sushi chef. It looked interesting, but I was more concerned with getting out of there. ‘I don’t want Amanda to see me.’

  ‘Well?’ Ben said as we walked to where the Wrangler was parked. ‘Are you going to give me details?’

  ‘I’m satisfied that what she told me about their relationship is true. I also saw that she is taking care of him. She got his food and found them a table while he worked his way through the crowd. He seemed comfortable with the situation and her. Thank you,’ I said, looking up at Ben with a relieved smile. ‘Now I can get him her note without any worries.’

  ‘I’m glad I could be of service,’ Ben said. ‘Enough about them – now it’s time for us.’

  The brief stay at the reception was enough fanciness for both of us, and we went to Lou Malnati’s and shared one of the thick-crust pizzas. Ben came back to my place for dessert.

  The next morning, I dressed the way I thought a delivery person would in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. I left my hair loose but had the red scrunchy on my wrist in case I changed my mind. I considered a baseball cap, but it seemed too much, so I went hatless.

  No peacock-blue messenger bag this time – just a purse and the big envelope. ‘Wish me luck,’ I said to Rocky as I went to the door. There was no reason for me to feel nervous. I was just going to drop the envelope off at the reception desk. But it was still an unknown. I took the Metra train downtown and walked to LaSalle Street and the financial district. The imposing stone canyon formed by the tall buildings didn’t make me feel any more relaxed. As I looked for the address, I passed a walking tour and overheard the tour guide say this area was the most filmed in the city and he mentioned Batman and Transformers.

  I passed through a revolving door and walked into a shiny granite-tiled lobby. I already knew Andrews’ office was on the twenty-fifth floor and went directly to the bank of elevators. There was still a fold-up seat left from the days when the elevators had operators. Now it was all on me to press a button. I had the car to myself as it whooshed up to the high floor.

  There was no problem finding the office. A frosted glass door marked off half the floor and had The Andrews Group in prominent letters.

  I paused just long enough to take a deep breath and then went inside. Something happened when I went through the glass doors, and suddenly I was totally calm, I’d become just another messenger dropping something off.

  There was a small area with a few seats and then a massive counter with The Andrews Group in big letters on the white wall behind it. The receptionist had a beefy build, and his suit jacket seemed to strain over his broad shoulders. He looked more security than greeting committee. ‘Delivery for Parker Andrews,’ I said, holding out the large yellowish envelope.

  He had me lay it on the counter and picked up a phone to notify someone of the arrival. I started to back away, but he ordered me to stop and pushed a clipboard across his desk. ‘You have to sign in.’

  ‘For a delivery?’ I said. ‘I’m not going in.’

  ‘For walking in the door,’ he said and pushed it toward me again. I don’t know what came over me, but my mind went blank, and all I could think of was Minnie Mouse. I wrote it down, hoping it was illegible and that I’d be out of there before he tried to read it. A dark-haired man in a conservative suit came out of a sliding door and took the envelope. I was already turning to go. I just wanted to get out of there. I was almost at the door when the receptionist ordered me to stop. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ he said, eyeing me.

  I didn’t know what he meant, so I shrugged. ‘Are you demanding I say thank you?’

  ‘What?’ he said, perplexed. ‘I’m not the manners police.’ He looked over his desk toward my hands. ‘Don’t you want me to sign something that it was received? What service do you work for?’

  ‘There’s no need to sign anything,’ I said, backing away quickly. When he looked down at the sign-in sheet, I knew I was in trouble and doubled my speed to the door.

  ‘Hey, come back here. Let’s see some ID, Minnie.’

  I rushed to the elevator and pushed the down button. There were four elevators and they all seemed to be on the lower floors. I thought about taking the stairs down a floor, but I worried the door would lock behind me and I’d be trapped in the stairwell to the bottom of the twenty-five stories.

  I looked back at the door to the office and was relieved that it wasn’t opening. Still, I didn’t stop holding my breath until the elevator arrived and I was on my way down. I got to the ground floor and took a deep breath of relief and was about to enter the revolving door that led to the street when I felt a hand grip my shoulder.

  ‘Not so fast, Minnie. Mr Andrews would like to talk to you,’ the receptionist/security guard said. There was nothing I could do but comply. I understood how he’d managed to nab me when he led me to a private elevator that went directly to the office. Once there, he had me sit down. I was already thinking about what I would do. I’d babble that I had just started working for a delivery service and then start crying. Tears always threw people off, and I expected they’d want to get me out of there. I’d apologize profusely but be steadfast in having no knowledge of the content of the message or who had sent it.

  The younger man in the suit came out and brought me back through the sliding door. There was a desk and another seating area, but we went past it. He rapped a short knock on a door, and a man’s voice said to come in.

  Parker Andrews was seated behind a massive old desk. The computer on top of it seemed out of place with the old-fashioned design. He was wearing a dark suit, a blue dress shirt, and a cream-colored tie. His dark hair was neatly trimmed on the sides with a little fluff of longer hair on the top. His expression was stern as he studied my face.

  ‘What’s this about?’ he said, holding the pink letter up. I was about to play dumb and go into the crying routine when he looked at me more closely. His eye stopped on the red scrunchy on my wrist. ‘You. The clothes are different, but I’ve seen that bracelet before. You’re the one from last night who was going to step on my toes.’

  I was too stunned to speak and put my hand over my face, trying to will myself invisible.

  ‘I don’t know what your game is, but you’d better explain.’

  ‘It may take a little time,’ I said, almost choking on my dry mouth. ‘Do you suppose I could have a glass of water?’

  He offered me a chair and told the assistant to get me the water. The adrenaline rush had left me feeling dizzy. ‘I’m sorry. If you could give me a moment, the water should help.’ And I mentioned that being nabbed by the receptionist had left me feeling a little faint.

  ‘Oh, no. You can’t faint,’ Parker Andrews said almost as a command. ‘Take some deep breaths.’ The water arrived and he handed me a heavy crystal glass. I took a few sips and set it down. ‘How about you start by showing some ID from the delivery company.’

  ‘I would if I had it,’ I said.

  ‘Then what about your ID.’ I handed him my driver’s license, and he looked it over before making a copy of it.

  ‘OK, Veronica, what’s going on?’ He seemed to be getting impatient. I was in a corner, and the only way to go was with the truth – to a point. I began by telling him what I did for a living. ‘I’m a writer for hire. Right now, I’m working on a project putting together descriptions of houses for a tour in Hyde Park. One of the homeowners died. Maybe you’ve heard of him – Landon Donte, the writer.’

  He nodded. ‘He was part of a lecture series we sponsored at UChicago. But what does that have to do with this?’ he held up the sheet of pink paper again.

  ‘I write all different sorts of things – descriptions of menu items, bios, and sometimes more romantic things.’ He was peering at me now. ‘Sometimes people have a hard time expressing their feelings for someone they care about, and I help them find the right words.’

  ‘You mean you write something for them as them,’ he said. His expression softened slightly.

  ‘Yes. That’s correct. I write the letters for the person, as the person.’

  ‘Like a Cyrano de Bergerac thing,’ he said.

  ‘Not exactly. He wrote them for someone, but to someone he was in love with. I never get involved with my clients that way.’

  ‘So are you saying this counts as a love letter?’ I wondered if it was a comment on the quality, but he was smiling as if he was amused.

  ‘Every situation is different. I have to tailor it to what my client wants and what would appeal to their love interest.’

  ‘And you’re saying that someone hired you to write this for me?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, choking on the word. ‘You should be flattered someone went to so much trouble.’ I was stalling because I knew the next question was going to be who had hired me. I couldn’t tell him without blowing the gig. I decided the best thing to do was to pivot away from the question. ‘Your case was a challenge. I understand that you are led by your head rather than your heart when it comes to your social life.’ My mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton balls, and I had to take a water break even if it allowed him to take over the conversation and demand who sent it. But it appeared that he was curious about what I was saying and waited while I set the glass back down. ‘I understand that you are considering several people as a relationship partner.’ I thought that sounded better than auditioning for a wife. ‘One of them wanted an advantage.’

  ‘And she came up with this list-of-words idea?’ he said.

  ‘She approved it, but it was my idea. She wanted something that would make you curious. I know it’s kind of silly.’ I put up my hands and shrugged.

  He looked at the letter again. ‘Whose idea was it to sign it “The One”?’

  I didn’t know how to answer and took a moment to drink more water.

  ‘Never mind,’ Parker said, leaning a little closer. ‘Now, the obvious question: who hired you?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that,’ I said, feeling a little panicky. I had to give him something, so I gave him a hint. ‘All I can say is that timing was a factor.’

  He leaned back in his chair, and his lips curved in a triumphant smile. ‘I’ve got it: it was Amanda Brooks, my date last night.’

  ‘I was going to ask you not to tell her what happened, but I guess it’s all blown anyway. But look at it this way: she cares enough about you to have hired me.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘How can I give her credit when the letter was your idea?’

  I let out a frustrated breath. ‘Now that you know everything, I can’t control what you do with the information. I can’t stop you from telling her what you know.’ I shrugged and let out my breath. ‘It’ll be the end of the gig for me.’ I stood up. ‘I’ve got to go. I have that house-tour copy to work on.’

  The man who’d taken me into the inner office escorted me back to the bank of elevators and went as far as to push the down button before walking away.

  As soon as I got home, I put on the kettle for some chamomile tea. I took the cup to the living room and dug out a really simple square I’d been working on. It was just a matter of time before the shoe dropped. Yes, that was two clichés, but I didn’t care.

  This was my worst nightmare when it came to writing love letters. I had made it worse for Amanda. I heard my landline ring and was going to ignore it, but since the handset was on the coffee table in front of me, I looked at the caller ID on the screen. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. The call ID said Andrews Group. What now? There was no use running away from whatever it was. I picked up the phone and clicked the green button to accept my fate.

  I’m afraid my hello came out how I felt: a mess.

  ‘Is this Veronica Blackstone?’ Parker Andrews said after identifying himself. I managed to mutter a yes. ‘You sounded different. Are you all right?’

  I tried to pull myself together. It wasn’t my way to play the damsel in distress. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, trying to project some confidence. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I thought I should tell you that I won’t tell Amanda what I know. I get that you are trying to make a living and I won’t step in the way of that.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, surprised and relieved.

  ‘And if it means anything, I liked the list of words, particularly spizzerinctum.’ And then he hung up.

  With a sigh of relief, I finally sent Amanda a text that the delivery had been made, but with no details.

  TWENTY-THREE

  It was Friday morning and time to go back to the Fellowses’ house with the changed copy and the vase. I was totally focused on how I was going to handle it. I didn’t want to think about anything else, but Amanda Brooks called just as I was finishing my coffee. As soon as I saw her name on the screen, I held my breath. Parker Andrews had said he wouldn’t tell her, but he was under no obligation and could have changed his mind. I took a deep breath and prepared for anything as I answered the phone.

  I said a tentative hello and hoped she wouldn’t want details of the delivery. But my worry was for naught. She skipped the greeting and got right down to business. ‘It worked,’ she said. ‘You’re a genius. He sent me flowers and said how much he’d enjoyed our evening. You have to get him the second letter, right away. Today,’ she said. She reminded me that I already had her handwritten version of the message.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait?’ I said, thinking of my trip to see the Fellowses, but she was adamant.

  ‘I want to blast my way out of his damn rotation. It’s always one date, and then he has to go through the whole group before he gets back to me again.’

  ‘How many women are we talking about?’ I asked, suddenly wondering what she was up against.

  ‘Four. I know who all of them are, and if we weren’t vying to be “the one,” we’d probably be friends. But I don’t want to talk about them. The second letter is important because it shows how I’m concerned for his well-being. I want him to know I will take care of things for him. Coddle him. Tell me you’ll take the letter today.’

  Actually, I was grateful I still had the gig after what had happened. ‘I won’t be able to do it until this afternoon,’ I said finally.