She laughed, swiveled back to face the office as her assistant brought in a tall, slim china cup. "I'll talk to you when I get back. Ciao ."
"Your latte, Ms. McCourt. Your car will be here in fifteen minutes."
"Thanks. The Modesto file?"
"Already in your briefcase."
"You're the best. You know how to reach me, but as of Tuesday I'm off the clock. So unless it's dire, pretend I've gone to Venus and can't be reached."
"Count on it. Nobody deserves a vacation more than you. Have a wonderful time in Rome."
"I plan to."
Sipping her latte, she turned to her computer, brought up a file to check some final details.
She loved her work. Some people would say it was just numbers, accounting, black or red ink. But to Zoe it was a challenge, even an adventure. She handled finance for some of the biggest and most complex corporations in the world, and she handled it very well.
A long way from doing books for Mama's hair business, she mused. A very long way.
She'd studied hard to earn that scholarship to college, worked hard to complete her degree and secure an entry-level position with one of New York's most prestigious international banking firms.
And then she'd worked her way up. A corner office on the fiftieth floor, her own staff, all before she hit thirty.
She had a beautiful apartment, an exciting life, a career she loved sinking her teeth into day after day. She'd traveled to all those places she'd wondered about when she snuck out to walk the woods at night as a girl.
She had what she'd never been able to explain to her family that she needed. She had respect.
Satisfied, she logged off, sipped the last of the latte. She pushed away from the desk, picked up her briefcase, tossed her coat over her arm.
Rome was waiting.
Work would come first, but then it was play. She was planning to carve out a nice chunk of time for shopping. Something in leather, something in gold. A sortie to Armani or Versace. Maybe both. Who deserved it more?
She started toward the door, then stopped, turned back. There was a nagging sensation, a tug at the back of her mind. She was forgetting something. Something important.
"Your car's here, Ms. McCourt."
"Yes, I'm coming."
She started for the door again. But no. No, she couldn't just leave.
"Simon." Her head spun, so viciously she had to brace a hand on the wall. "Where's Simon?"
She rushed through the door, shouting for him. And fell back through the crystal and onto her kitchen floor.
"I wasn't ever afraid," Zoe told Malory and Dana. "Not even when I landed on the floor. It was more, 'hmmm, how about that.'"
"That's all he said to you?" Dana demanded.
"Yes. He was very smooth." Zoe said as she worked on attaching her stations to the wall. "
Very sympathetic. Not frightening at all."
"Because he was trying to seduce you," Malory concluded.
"That's the way I see it." Zoe gave the station a test shake, nodded. " 'Wouldn't you like things to be this way, instead of the way they turned out?' He made it seem like it was just a matter of stepping this way instead of that."
"The fork in the path." Dana set her hands on her hips.