by Kaylea Cross
“Yes, I remember. You’re supposed to get close to the infamous David Muller.”
“That’s right. Here’s his picture in case you spot him before I do.” Janet pulled a copy of a Forbes magazine article titled “Movers and Shakers.” The article had been written before Emperial hedge fund was investigated for market manipulation, and David Muller’s confident, smiling face was prominently displayed in the middle of the text.
“Isn’t it the cardinal rule of all undercover officers to burn the mark’s picture?”
“I’m not an undercover officer, and Muller is not a mark. I’m not here to shoot him; I’m just going to try to get close to him.” Janet stuck the picture into her green silk purse.
“Fine. So what’s your plan?”
“My plan?”
“Yes, your plan. You and Laskin must have a plan.”
“We do, which is why I have to go and talk to him immediately.”
“There’s no time to talk to him now. The ceremony is about to begin.”
Janet checked her watch. “That’s right. Silly me! I almost forgot.”
Katie put her hands on her hips. “There is no plan, is there?”
“Yes there is. The plan is to get close to Muller,” Janet lied. She would just have to wing it until she got a chance to talk to Laskin.
Twenty minutes later, Janet was standing by the altar. The two bridesmaids were next to her: Katie was one of them, and Daphne, the fiancée of Janet’s law school friend Joe O’Connor, was the other one. The groom, Paul, and his best man and brother, Jon, stood in front of the altar next to the justice of the peace. The groomsmen were gathered on the other side of the altar and included Paul’s two best college buddies and his nineteen-year-old nephew, Tyler. For the wedding photo session that took place earlier in the day, Katie and Daphne had been paired up with Paul’s married but age appropriate groomsmen, while Janet had been paired up with Tyler. Broad-chested and blond, Tyler was a stud, but that did not alleviate the fact that not only did Janet not have a real wedding date, she could not even get a man of her age to stand next to her in Lisa’s wedding photos. This seemed grossly unfair as both Katie and Daphne had men in their lives who not only served as their dates during social occasions but also loved them during ordinary days, and Janet had no one.
Out of the corner of her eye, Janet caught a glimpse of Peter Laskin who was seated in the far left corner of the third row. Why couldn’t she fall in love with Laskin and forget about Dennis Walker? It would make things so much simpler. At an average height of five foot ten, with a straight nose and average-sized mouth, Laskin was, well, an average-looking man. Some women might even consider him to be on the attractive side, but by no means was he as charming or as good-looking as Dennis. Janet felt a stab of guilt: this was supposed to be Lisa’s moment, and there Janet was, indulging in self-pity instead of being happy for her friend.
The bridal march started, and everyone’s attention turned to the bride. Escorted by her father, Lisa walked down the aisle. She wore a beautiful formfitting dress of white silk with a slit in the front. Her short hair was adorned with tiny white roses, completed by a shoulder-length veil. Paul’s face beamed with happiness as he watched Lisa walk toward him.
Janet noticed movement in the last row. Her disapproving eyes darted to the source of commotion—there was nothing tackier than being late for a wedding reception. She was about to redirect her attention back to Lisa, who was now approaching the altar, when Janet noticed that the man who had just arrived was David Muller. He was dressed in an expensive black tuxedo. Next to him stood a plump redhead. Her hair was pinned in an elaborate updo; she wore a chiffon dress of pale blue. Janet wondered about David Muller’s date. She had seen pictures of him in gossip columns linking him to models and starlets, and while it was obvious that Muller’s redhead had taken great care in her appearance, she did not even come close to the glamazons that Muller usually dated.
* * *
David Muller thought that there was nothing worse in the world than wedding ceremonies. But there he was, stuck in an uncomfortable chair, sitting next to Aileen, listening to sappy wedding wows. His discomfort was made even greater by the fact that he was a guest at the wedding of the family whose business he had destroyed. David cast an irritated glance at Aileen. Normally, he was careful to camouflage his emotions during his interactions with her, but he knew that he was safe now: Aileen’s eyes were glued to the front of the room. Her face was a mixture of joy and tears. With one hand she was tightly clutching David’s hand, and with the other was dabbing her moist eyes with a tissue.
The justice of the peace droned on, “A wedding is more than a celebration of love. It reaches into the future and asserts the bride and groom’s intentions for that which tomorrow shall hold. The promises and vows that the bride and groom make this day shall guide them into their common future. I will ask you now if you are prepared to make these promises.”
David felt Aileen’s clasp tighten and resisted the urge to move his hand away. His only hope was that this ridiculous spectacle was not filling the silly creature’s head with crazy ideas.
“Lisa, have you come here today of your own free will to take Paul to be your husband, that you may live together as equal partners sharing all that life has to offer?”
“I have,” David heard the bride respond. As if there could be a different answer? he wondered. It was only in the movies that brides ran away from the altar. By the looks of it, this wedding had cost a pretty penny, and in David’s mind no one walked away from the deal once the cash had been put up.
“Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him all the days of your life?”
Blah, Blah, Blah. David was about to roll his eyes, but stopped just in time when he noticed Aileen’s head turning. She shot him a dramatic look and squeezed his hand, then returned her attention to the ceremony.
“I will,” Lisa’s voice carried through the room.
“Paul, have you come here today of your own free will to take Lisa to be your wife, that you may live together as equal partners sharing all that life has to offer?”
“I have.”
“Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her all the days of your life?”
“I will.”
Oh brother, David groaned inwardly, wishing the spectacle would be over with already. He could barely resist the urge to strangle Aileen with both hands, metaphorically speaking of course. He might not be the most moral of human beings, but he still did not consider himself to be capable of murder, although Aileen’s behavior certainly warranted such an action. David had already resigned himself to spending the weekend with Aileen. After the blissful Friday afternoon he had spent with Mila, the prospect loomed gloomily before him, but was made utterly intolerable when Aileen announced that they had a wedding to attend.
“What wedding?” David had asked, fearful of a family gathering: the last thing he needed was to meet more of Aileen’s relatives; his acquaintance with her father was all he could handle at the moment. Or worse, perhaps one of Aileen’s best friends was to walk down the aisle, a spectacle that would undoubtedly fill Aileen’s head with thoughts of matrimony. As bad as his suspicions were, Aileen’s answer literally knocked the wind out of him.
“Don’t you remember?” Aileen puckered her lips in what she probably thought was a playful pout. “It’s the Bostoff wedding. The invitation had been lying on your desk since forever, so I answered it. I left the RSVP card on your desk, but I also wrote down all the details just in case.”
David frowned. He had lots of papers on his desk, but he always took care to sort out the important ones and toss out the junk, and he was fairly certain that he would have classified the invitation to Paul Bostoff’s wedding as the latter. In fact, now that he thought about it, he was certain that he had tossed the invite into the wastepaper basket. “I had no intention of going to that wedding. Where exactly did you find the invitation?” Was Aileen sifting through his garbage?
The crimson blush that was creeping down her cheeks confirmed his suspicions.
“I, oh, like I said, honey, it was on your desk, and I thought that you wanted to go, so I answered it. Weddings are such happy occasions, and this one is taking place in a really lovely part of Long Island. Don’t you think it would make a wonderful outing? I’ve already booked a room at the bed and breakfast, and we can make a weekend out of it. We could go antique shopping on Sunday or do a winery tour.”
A weekend with Aileen was bad enough; a weekend with Aileen, trapped in some crappy bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere, would be nightmarish. David rattled his brain for a possible escape. He was certain that the Bostoffs had been as unpleasantly surprised by his RSVP card as he was to learn that Aileen had accepted the invitation on his behalf. He wondered why he had been invited in the first place. It had to have been a clerical error; or perhaps the Bostoffs planned to execute their revenge on him for walking away from the investigation with hardly a scratch while Bostoff Securities had been decimated. In either case, the occasion promised to be awkward to say the least. That was it, he had had it. Aileen might have a powerful father but that did not give her the license to yank David around like some marionette.” Aileen, I am not happy about this in the least. The invitation was addressed to me and you should have consulted me before responding. I hope that it isn’t too late to cancel.”
“Cancel? But I’ve already bought the dress, and I’ve made an appointment for my hair to get done tomorrow morning.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel it, and I hope that you’ve kept the receipt for the dress, so that you can return it.” David was mentally rubbing his hands in delight. Every cloud had a silver lining, and Aileen’s idiotic behavior had just given him an excuse to play the hurt lover; he would punish her by cancelling his weekend with her altogether. Already he was thinking of the time he would spend with Mila; he had told her that he had to work through the weekend, but he would call her now and tell her that his weekend had opened up.
“Return it? Cancel my hair appointment?” Aileen’s lips quivered.
“Yes, darling, I’m afraid so. In the meantime, I’m going to try to reach out to the Bostoffs and apologize for this confusion, and of course I’ll send a check as well. Hopefully that will be enough to make amends. This is really no way to behave, Aileen. I did not expect this from you. You’ll excuse me but I’m going to leave now. This weekend will give you plenty of time to reflect on your behavior.” A few weeks ago David would not have dared to address Aileen in such a tone, but he had already gathered plenty of dirt on Finnegan, so David decided to begin the gradual process of reducing the amount of attention and time he had until now been obediently devoting to Aileen.
“To reflect on my behavior?” Aileen’s voice acquired a menacing ring to it. “Very well then. I’m sure I’ll have a great time reflecting with my parents. Daddy had said that he wanted to have a family weekend, but I told him that you and I would be going away. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know that our plans have been cancelled.”
David stared at Aileen with newfound respect. Up until now she had never used her father as clout. At times David wondered whether Aileen was daft enough to think that he was dating her out of pure affection, but now he knew better. Very well, he would have to swallow his pride and accompany Aileen to the Bostoff wedding. Soon he would be free from Finnegan’s yoke, but for now he still needed the old man, and Aileen would get whatever Aileen wanted.
“Do you, Paul, take Lisa to be your lawful wedded wife, to love, honor and cherish her through sickness and in health, through times of happiness and travail, until death do you part?” asked the justice of the peace.
“Yes.”
Of course he does, David bristled inwardly. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be standing there, you oaf.
“Place this ring upon her finger and repeat after me: ‘With this ring I thee wed and forever pledge my devotion.’”
The groom mumbled on as he was told.
“Do you, Lisa, take Paul to be your lawful wedded husband, to love, honor and cherish him through sickness and in health, through times of happiness and travail, until death do you part?”
“Yes.”
“By the act of joining hands you take to yourself the relation of husband and wife and solemnly promise to love, honor, comfort, and cherish each other so long as you both shall live. Therefore, in accordance with the law of New York and by virtue of the authority vested in me by the law of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. You came to me as two single people and you will now leave as a married couple, united to each other by the binding contract you have just entered. Your cares, your worries, your pleasures and your joys, you must share with each other. The best of good fortune to both of you.”
“Wasn’t that beautiful?” Aileen whispered, her pudgy fingers squeezing David’s hand so tightly he barely suppressed a yelp.
“Very,” David managed. So far he rated his experience at the Bostoff wedding as akin to the pain of matches being stuck into one’s eyes—not that David had ever been subjected to such a horrid torture, but he had a vivid imagination and he feared what was to follow.
Aileen dabbed her eyes. “Aren’t you glad we came? I have a feeling that the reception is going to be wonderful.”
“I am sure it will be,” David confirmed, hoping the he would be spared the awkwardness of running into the groom’s brother, Jon Bostoff.
Chapter Fifteen
“You may now kiss as husband and wife.”
As the justice of the peace uttered the concluding words of the wedding ceremony, Paul Bostoff drew Lisa into his arms, and the two locked their lips in a long, passionate kiss.
Applause and cheering erupted from the audience. While she clapped, Janet’s eyes surveyed the back row. She was relieved to see the blond of Muller’s hair. Not that Muller’s presence elicited any sort of positive emotion in Janet, but she owed it to Lisa and Paul to set things right, and Muller was the key. Whether it was the emotional rush from the ceremony, the pent-up anger from the blatantly unjust way in which the Bostoff Securities and Emperial case had been handled, or a combination of both, Janet felt empowered by a surge of boldness. Who did this Muller character think he was, anyway? Just because he wore swanky suits and dated supermodels did not mean that he was superhuman. And the latter bit was not even true anymore: Muller’s current date did not look anything like a supermodel, proving that Muller was just an ordinary human being after all. An exceptionally corrupt human being, but a human being nonetheless, one who had to obey the law just like the rest of the mortals, and Janet would make sure that he would not escape it. Which brought her to her next point: aside from the fact that Lisa had arranged for Muller to be seated at the same table as Janet and her date, Janet still did not have a plan for getting close to Muller. She needed to talk to Laskin so that they could come up with a strategy before the reception began.
“Shall we?” Tyler Bostoff offered his arm to Janet.
“Thank you, Tyler.” Janet leaned on Tyler’s arm and followed him, along with the flow of the guests who were now headed toward the reception hall. Once they reached the front row, Janet spotted Laskin and disengaged herself from Tyler.
“Peter,” Janet called to her date in a hushed whisper.
“Janet! At long last! I was beginning to think that I would never get to spend any time with my date.” Laskin cast an askance glance at Tyler.
Janet ignored Laskin’s pointed remark: now was not the time for ego stroking. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. Let’s go in here.” Janet grabbed a hold of Laskin’s arm and drew him into the guestroom that had been reserved to store the wedding gifts.
“Wow, Janet, if you were that eager to see me, we could have arranged something sooner.”
Janet shut the door behind them. “Look, Peter, I have to come clean. I invited you as my date because I need your help.”
“You mean to tell me that you are not attracted
to my sexy looks or my charm and wit?”
Janet stared back at him, wondering how she was going to work her way out of this one. Then she noticed a smile on Laskin’s lips.
“Relax, Janet. I may be a little slow on the uptake at times, but I’m not dumb. One doesn’t need a PhD in human behavior to know that you and Dennis have the hots for one another, so when you asked me to be your date I knew that romance was not your motivation. I’ve tried to get you to tell me exactly why you needed me to be here with you, but you blew off all my attempts to do so. And then when you finally had time to meet, something had come up and I couldn’t make it.”
Janet blushed at her own vanity. So far, it seemed like Laskin’s investigative instincts were much keener than her own. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
Laskin waved his hand. “Forget it, Janet. Now, do you want to tell me why you asked me to come with you? I suspect it has something to do with the Bostoff case.”
How did you know? Janet merely blinked, restraining herself from uttering the question that was on her lips. The groom’s name was Paul Bostoff, and one did not have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out the rest.
“I am familiar with the case,” replied Laskin, as though having read her thoughts. “After all, I did do all the analytics for Walker while he romanced you in the offices of Bostoff Securities under the pretext of an undercover assignment.”
“There was no romancing—”
“Save it, Janet. I’ve worked with Walker long enough. Now, are you going to tell me why you asked me to be your date for the wedding?”
Janet opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no use trying to fool Laskin. Her embarrassment made her speak in formal, contrived language as though she were making a statement during a deposition. “There is concrete evidence indicating that David Muller, owner of Emperial hedge fund, had orchestrated a market manipulation trading scheme.”
“I know about that too, Janet. While Bostoff was guilty in accepting the trades, Muller was the mastermind behind the operation. But then, low and behold, Muller walks away and Jon Bostoff takes all the blame. Not to mention that our boss gets fired, and both yours and Dennis’s careers now seem to be headed for the crapper, so you can skip the background and cut right to the chase.”
