I just bombarded Polly with a dozen questions, partly to keep her off-balance and partly to learn more about her.
I’ve got another one, but instead of asking Polly, I’m going to find the answer myself: Who are you, really, and what exactly are you up to?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MARISSA
MARISSA APPROACHES THE LOBBY of Matthew’s office building holding a small white bag from his favorite bakery, and a cardboard tray loaded with two hot drinks.
Dustin, the guard who has manned the security desk for nearly three decades, hurries to open the door for her. “Hey, Mrs. Bishop. Nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” She realizes it has been ages since she’s seen Dustin, which means she hasn’t visited Matthew at his office since … the annual holiday party? No, one of the Bishop, Simms & Chapman partners hosted the last celebration at his home, so it has been even longer than that. It must have been Matthew’s birthday in May, nearly a year ago, when she met him here before going out to dinner at Marcel’s.
She and Matthew used to occasionally meet for lunch in Lafayette Square. Marissa would pick up sandwiches from Balducci’s, and they’d spread out on a blanket. But they haven’t enjoyed a picnic together in ages. Marissa also used to come downtown once in a while to meet Matthew for drinks on the rooftop of the W or the bar at Old Ebbitt Grill, but lately, life has seemed too busy. No, not just lately, Marissa mentally corrects herself. It has been years.
Avery’s instructions had at first mildly irritated Marissa. Now she has the eerie sense that Avery can see more deeply into the dynamics of her marriage than Marissa herself.
“I thought I’d bring Matthew—and you—a little treat.” Marissa hands Dustin one of the lattes from her tray. It’s a tiny bribe, designed to soften him up for the request she’s about to deliver.
“Aw, that’s so nice of you. Exactly what I needed.” Dustin reaches for his phone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Actually, would you mind just letting me up? I’d really love to surprise him.”
Dustin hesitates. Ever since an employee at Bishop, Simms & Chapman was fired and subsequently caught trying to break into the building, security has been tight. Visitors now go through a metal detector, and Dustin has an emergency button beneath his desk.
Marissa smiles, hoping Dustin sees her for what she truly is: a wife eager for a few stolen moments with the husband she loves.
He returns her smile. “Of course.”
Marissa’s stomach flutters as she enters the elevator and presses the button for the sixteenth floor. Her visit feels a little illicit and daring. She already knows the words she will say to flatter her husband, and the napoleon in the bakery bag will be a sweet reminder of their trip to Paris, during which Bennett was conceived.
The elevator doors slide open and Marissa steps into the lobby of Bishop, Simms & Chapman. The gorgeous space has floor-to-ceiling windows and bold, colorful artwork adorning the walls. Marissa helped select those pieces, as well as the onyx-and-cream color palette for the office.
Marissa waves to the receptionist, who is busy on a call, then walks directly to Matthew’s corner office, which is on the far side of the floor, with a stunning view of the Washington Monument. As she approaches, Marissa sees that Matthew’s office door is closed and his secretary, Ginny, is bent over her computer, typing intently. Only when Marissa gets closer does she realize the dark-haired woman isn’t Ginny after all.
Their coloring is similar, but their features aren’t, and this woman is at least ten years older.
Maybe Ginny is out sick, or on vacation, Marissa thinks as the woman lifts her head and looks at Marissa with a questioning expression.
Now that she thinks about it, Marissa vaguely recalls Matthew telling her Ginny had gotten a new job and moved on. And Marissa’s sure he told her about his new assistant, but she can’t remember him mentioning her name. Although perhaps this is simply another detail that Marissa has forgotten in the blur of the last few months. Still, what kind of wife doesn’t know the name of her husband’s assistant?
She’ll have to fake it. “Hi…”
“Mrs. Bishop!” The dark-haired woman rises from her chair. Marissa is impressed; the woman must recognize Marissa from the photo Matthew keeps on his windowsill, which was taken on their wedding day. “How nice to finally meet you in person!”
Just as the silence begins to awkwardly stretch out, Marissa sees the bronze signage affixed to the cubicle wall: RENEE HAMMERMAN. “It’s a pleasure. Please, call me Marissa.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were stopping by. I would have come to the lobby to meet you.”
“It’s actually a surprise.” Marissa nods toward her bakery bag and tray. “I figured Matthew has had a tough few days, so…”
“He’ll be thrilled! Matthew talks about you all the time!”
Marissa can’t suppress the questioning tone in her voice. “He does?”
Renee’s desk phone begins to ring, and she hurries to pick it up. “Matthew Bishop’s office, please hold.” Then she turns back to Marissa. “I’m sorry, it’s a madhouse here today. Matthew is in his office with Mr. Simms. Should I interrupt him?”
Marissa hesitates. Spencer Simms is one of Matthew’s partners. He’s sharp and impatient, with a terrific sense of humor. Marissa and Matthew have gone out to dinner with him and his wife, Jean, several times, and while Marissa likes him, he can be intimidating.
Matthew has made it clear he has a crazy week, plus he has that important client in town. He’ll be working late. Marissa begins to wonder if Avery got this one wrong; perhaps Marissa’s visit will be an inconvenience.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She feels guiltily aware of the blinking light on Renee’s phone. “What do you think?”
“Let me slip him a note. I think they should be wrapping up soon. And his next meeting isn’t until four, so this actually could be a good time.”
Marissa sits down on a chair outside Matthew’s office and begins checking her emails as Renee deals with the caller. There’s one from Avery, asking if Marissa has a copy of Polly’s résumé, and if so, could Marissa send it as soon as possible. She frowns. The request seems odd, but Avery must have a good reason for it. Marissa knows exactly where in her in-box the résumé is, since she just searched for it herself. She hesitates for a moment, then forwards it.
Marissa tucks away her phone as Renee passes by on her way to discreetly knock on Matthew’s door. A moment later, Matthew’s door opens wider, and Spencer and Matthew exit the office.
“Marissa!” Matthew exclaims, striding over to kiss her on the lips. Far from being annoyed, he’s acting as if her visit is the highlight of his day. Marissa can’t recall Matthew ever kissing her in his office before. “What are you doing here, babe?”
“Special delivery,” Marissa jokes, lifting up the white bag and coffee.
Matthew turns to Spencer. “Aren’t I the luckiest guy to have my beautiful wife bringing me treats on a random Wednesday?”
“You really are,” Spencer agrees. “Nice to see you again, Marissa.”