Part 10 (1/2)
”Get dressed, love. I am famished.”
Lonnie plopped down on the bed. ”I ate already,” she said casually. ”Tell me about Athens.” She patted a place beside her.
He took hold of her hands and pulled her to her feet. ”I'll tell you about Athens over lunch.”
”But I said I'm not hungry.”
”I am. So you can watch me eat and I'll tell you all of my adventures.”
So, Phillip was hungry, and insistent. Lonnie shrugged, pulled her top off over her head, and started to get dressed.
The hostess led Lonnie and Phillip through the crowded restaurant to a table facing the lake.
”No,” he said, stopping her. ”Would it be possible for us to sit over there?” Phillip pointed to another table across the room.
”Sure.” The hostess smiled and seated them.
Phillip ordered a bowl of lobster bisque soup and salad. Lonnie just ordered the salad. For twenty minutes, he told her every detail about his trip to Greece and the four times he fell in and out of love while he was there. Then suddenly he changed the subject. ”So, tell me how your little vendetta is coming along?”
”My little vendetta?” she asked, slightly offended, and slightly amused by his pompous, belittling tone.
Of course, Phillip caught on. ”Oh, come on, darling. I'm English. You know we are naturally condescending. It's in our DNA.”
Lonnie quickly recovered. After all, this was Phillip, her savior, best friend, and occasional object of her affection. ”I think Frank Ross has finally gotten with the program,” she explained, toying with her napkin. ”He's ready to get in touch with Jordan. Asked me how to do it a few days ago.”
Phillip's blue eyes twinkled. ”Wonderful.” He smiled. ”What is your prediction? Do you think he'll fare well?”
Lonnie thought before responding. ”No,” she said remotely. ”I don't think he'll fare well in any of this. But I need him.”
”That's all that matters,” Phillip said unemotionally.
Lonnie nodded. ”We're all actors in this play. We've all got our roles.”
There was something sad and dismal about it all.
There will be casualties, Phillip had warned her. Frank was going to have to be one of them, eventually. So would others.
”I spoke to Jordan's wife,” Lonnie volunteered, thinking back to her meeting with Claire.
”The woman who saved your life.”
Phillip had just missed Claire when Lonnie was in the hospital, but she'd told him who she was.
”He still has no idea?” Phillip probed.
She shook her head. ”Not yet.”
”You plan on telling him?”
Lonnie stared at him. ”I plan on getting her to tell him.”
”How?”
She shrugged. ”Claire's weak,” she said matter-of-factly. ”She's a puppet with strings. You just gotta know how to pull them.”
”And I take it you do?”
Lonnie was thoughtful. Of all of them, Claire was the easiest to read, the most vulnerable, and the one with the most cracks in her armor.
”Once upon a time,” Phillip started, ”there was a beautiful princess.” He stared deep into her eyes.
The last time he'd started that once-upon-a-time s.h.i.+t, she'd told him to shut up, but now she knew better. Lonnie sat quietly, patiently, and listened.
”The evil king said he loved the princess, but he hurt her terribly, nearly took her life, and never gave it a second thought.”
She hung on every word, putting images behind those words, making Phillip's story three dimensional and layered.
”She thought she was too weak to fight him, but she was wrong.”
”Because she was just as strong as he was.” She finished that part of the story for him.
Phillip smiled approvingly. ”How do you topple a king, princess?”
”You find his weakness,” she muttered.
”And what is this king's weakness?”
”His name,” she said, with confidence.
”His name. You've found the king's weakness. The next step in toppling this king is...?”
He waited for her to find the answer on her own. Lonnie thought about it. She thought about the conversation the two of them had been having, and it dawned on her that Phillip hadn't just been asking her those questions for casual conversation. The answer was in there. She might have even said it herself. Frank came to mind, and then Claire. Claire had pulled Lonnie out of that house, and Claire would die if her husband ever found out what she had done. Claire lived for Jordan, and she would die for him too. She'd already proven that. She was his biggest cheerleader, and for whatever reason, from what Lonnie had seen in the society pages, Jordan proudly braced her at his side. He needed her.
”You turn his most loyal subjects against him.” The answer came to her as she made eye contact with Phillip.
”Look over my right shoulder,” he told her. ”The couple seated next to the window.”
Lonnie focused where he told her. ”The old man and his daughter?”
”See the rock on her finger?” Phillip asked. ”Do you really think she's his daughter?”
Just then she saw the man lace his fingers into the woman's. He brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it. ”Guess not.”
”His name is Edgar Beckman,” Phillip continued, as he dipped a corner of bread in his soup. ”The young woman is his third wife.”
Lonnie shrugged. ”Okay.”
So, the old dude had a young wife. It happened.