Bella was again sunbathing by the pool. She had on less clothing than she did during her unexpected visit to his house, but more than she’d had on the last time he’d been here. She was wearing a shimmery silver bikini that tempted Jesse to ask why she even bothered with a bathing suit.
Bella used her right hand as a visor, placing it above her sunglasses. “Jesse.” She sounded pleased and gave him a full-on smile. “Have you reconsidered?”
He sat on the edge of the lounge chair beside hers. “No, sorry. I came to talk to Stan. I’m surprised to see you out here. Don’t you ever work? I thought you’d be burning up the phones.”
She laughed. It was the laugh of a teenage girl caught by her mom doing something in her room they both knew she shouldn’t be doing, not in her room, maybe not anywhere. Bella sat up, the smile vanishing.
“Can I tell you something, Jesse?”
“Uh-huh.”
“My PR firm, the one I gave you that fancy card for... It’s kind of an exaggeration. I mean, I’ve done some promo work, but not this kind of thing. This Jester thing is way above my paygrade. I was a club promoter in Boston. Do you know what that is, a club promoter?”
He nodded. “Bar and club owners hire you to get people through their front doors.”
“Right. I was good at it, too. People usually have trouble saying no to me. Well, most people.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“That’s how Stan found me. He came to me and offered to set me up in my own business, to make it legitimate. He got me incorporated, got me an accountant and everything. Bought me cards, showed me the ropes. He’s really smart about promo stuff and he knows a million people.”
“But why you? Why did he choose you? No offense, Bella, but there are hundreds of firms he could have gone to who have the same contacts, better contacts than he does.”
Without a hint of embarrassment, she said, “Because I came cheap and I’m beautiful. Stan’s an old man, but he’s not dead. He likes having me on his arm. He likes the respect in other men’s eyes when they see me with him. He gets off thinking about what those other men think when they see me with him.”
Remembering Diana’s struggles at the FBI and his conversation with Molly, he asked, “You’re okay with that?”
“People use each other all the time, Jesse. I’m young, but I learned that lesson a long time ago. When I hear someone say they were used, I always want to call bullshit on that. Nothing is ever one-sided. And so, sure, Stan is using me, but I’m learning things. I’m meeting people. I’m collecting contact information, making connections, networking. When this Terry Jester gig is done, I’ll collect my fees and be on my way. Stan can look at the photos of me standing beside him, put them up in his office, and dream his dreams. What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m a cop, not a judge, Bella.”
“I like you, Jesse, even though you hurt my feelings this morning. You’re less full of shit than most men. But I can tell you disapprove.”
“I know a little something about trading on beauty.”
“I just bet you do. What about it?”
“It’s got a limited shelf life and it gets you just so far.”
She sat up, faced Jesse, her expression going steely before his eyes. “Thanks for the advice, but let me worry about that. I’ve got all sorts of charms, some less obvious than others. The offer stands. Just say the word.”
He ignored that. “But why aren’t you working the phones to get people to come to the party? It’s a pretty solid assumption that whoever has the tape is going to approach Stan once word gets out, and I feel pretty confident word is about to come out.”
She laughed again, only this time it was a laugh as cold as her expression. “Stan’s already been working the phones.”
“Has he?”
“I think it’s safe to say that when it goes wide, he’ll already have offers in place for new bidders to compete against. I told you, Jesse,” she said, leaning back down on her chaise, “I’m learning a lot from Stan. Why aren’t I working the phones? Because when word about The Hangman’s Sonnet gets out, all the A-listers who couldn’t even be bothered to return my calls and emails will be begging to get a second chance to attend the birthday party. I won’t have to call them. They’ll be calling me.”
“You have learned a lot,” he said. “Let me ask you one more question before I go.”
“Anything.”
“How much has Stan paid you so far?”
Unlike with her previous snappy answers, Bella hesitated. Her lip twitched almost imperceptibly.
“He’s paid for my wardrobe, put me up here, given me spending money. The payoff’s a percentage on the back end,” she said, her voice louder, too loud.
“Thanks, Bella.”
He turned and went back into the house.