Chapter 2

“No, no,” I assured her. “There’s no scheduled time. We take lunch when we’re free.”

I turned, grabbed my jacket from under the counter, and motioned to my coworker that I was leaving, and then I picked up the four boxes and followed her out to the street, where a dark gray Mercedes was waiting.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said as I handed the boxes to her driver. “Maybe the next time, I can take you to lunch, too.” She got into the back seat of the car.

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested.

“Nonsense. Everyone has to eat lunch. It’ll be fun.” The driver closed her door and ran around the car. I gave a small wave as they pulled away.

* * * *

I’ve been working at Platinum Boutique for almost eight years. It wasn’t the job I wanted nor the one I was educated to do, but it paid the rent and made it possible to practice the thing I love most. You see, I’m a cellist. I’ve played since I was in the fourth grade and I’d gone to college to study it as well. But serious orchestral jobs were few and far between. You had to wait for someone to retire or die to have a space become available. Even then, you’d have to fight dozens of others for the job.

I had landed a position with a very good string quartet. We had a standing gig most weekends at one of the major museums down town and we were always getting rave reviews. Occasionally we’d get a booking to perform a concert in another city. It was a good job, but unless the out-of-town bookings increased, it would never pay the rent. That’s why I worked at Platinum Boutique.

* * * *

She came in about once a week to look around and I was always the one she wanted to wait on her. She’d try things on and ask my opinion, or I’d suggest something or tell her where she might find what she wanted. It seemed that she was my regular customer. My co-workers were always teasing me about it because she spent more than any other customer did. It was too bad that we worked for a standard wage because if we had worked on commission, I’d probably be rich right now.

I didn’t see her again until the next week. She came in on Tuesday looking for a pair of high-heeled, black sandals, and a silk jacket. We had a lot of both of those, but she wanted the jacket in a special color to match a dress she’d bought a few weeks ago. I thought the company who handled the label of her dress might have such a jacket.

“I think we may be able to order one for you,” I told her. I looked at my watch. It was five-thirty. “I can call tomorrow morning and see.”

“I’d really appreciate that,” she said. Then she handed me her business card. “You can call me anytime.”

She paid for her sandals with the platinum Amex card.

The business card said Weldon Brokerage House, C D Weldon, CEO. There were phone and fax numbers and an address in a very ritzy neighborhood, just up-state. I’d never been there but I’d been told that there were massive estates there on acres and acres of land and mansions hidden away behind trees and fences that had a view of the river and the city.

CEO? Platinum Amex? Of course. That meant money.

I called her early on the next afternoon and told her they had the jacket she wanted and would deliver it as soon as possible. She was ecstatic.

When the delivery arrived from that company, the jacket was with the shipment, so I called her again.

I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I just wanted to see how someone like her lived.

“I can bring it out to you tonight, if you want,” I offered.

“Would you? I’d be so grateful.” She sounded excited. “It would save me having to go into the city again this week.”

So, there I was. I’d never been to this area before but I knew it was where the very, very wealthy lived. My friends always laughed and said that when they won the lottery, they’d get a house there. Somehow, I don’t think they’d ever win a lottery that big.

When I had finally found the entrance to her estate, I was shocked. There were two tall brick towers at the entrance with the name Weldonspelled out on a metal beam across the top. Tall wrought iron fences came out of each tower and continued around the property, or as far around the property as I could see. There was a gate and a guard house. I could see at least two surveillance cameras pointed at where I was stopped. There were probably more. A woman with an older alto voice answered when I pressed the call button.