The Woman With The Sash

Rain had emptied Pier Nine by seven on Sunday morning. The bunting hung dark and heavy, and the sponsor's platform stood bare except for one folding chair, and one woman on it.

Kaylee Drummond had traded the ivory dress for a gray rain jacket. She sat with her knees together and her hands around a champagne bottle in its silver mesh. She did not look up until my boots were on the boards.

"I thought you might come," she said.

I had searched her company on Ozzie's phone in the taxi. Dockside Ventures LLC, formed six days ago. One organizer, one name. Hers. Fifty-one percent.

"Tell me about Dockside."

"It's mine." Her chin rose. "He set it up so I'd have something real. A partner title, a share of the luxury division. A fund holds the other forty-nine."

"Which fund?"

"Institutional. I've never met them. Neil handles it."

Neil again. "What did Trevor tell you about me?"

"That you two are finished." She said it to the bottle. "You stay because of the company, and you've never cared about it. Anything with a flag on it, you'd sign, as long as nobody made you look."

"He's right about the last part," I said.

That made her look up.

"Trevor handed me the cradle on Thursday evening," she said. "You'd never notice till it was over, according to him. I was to smile at you and not say a word." Her voice thinned. "I didn't want to take it. It was tradition, he promised, and you'd be honored."

"Were you?"

"I was scared."

I believed the fear. I did not know yet whether I believed the rest. A woman who owned fifty-one percent of a company created six days ago could be a pawn, or she could be the one holding every piece.

Either she was a very good actress, or nobody had told her what sort of company she owned.

She stood and held out the cradle in both hands. The silver was wet and cold. "It's yours. It always was."

I took it. The mesh was rough under my fingers, worn smooth in the same places my mother's grip had worn it.

Kaylee stayed where she was with her hands open in front of her, palms up in the rain, and at last she looked her age.