by Marie Astor
“Janet, you need to learn to relax. It’s Sunday, for crying out-loud,” Lisa groaned, holding up her hand in protest. “I have an important favor to ask you. It’s about Katie. I haven’t exactly asked her to be my bridesmaid, but I’m sure she’d want to be in the wedding, right?”
“I’m sure she would, but Katie’s calendar is pretty busy. She’s got depositions scheduled back to back,” Janet rattled off the first excuse that came to mind.
“Perhaps you could ask her for me?” Lisa smiled sweetly.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think it would sound better coming from you.”
“And I thought you were my maid of honor! Can’t you do this little thing for me?”
Janet gulped. Bridesmaid recruitment was not exactly part of the maid of honor’s responsibilities – at least not the way she understood them.
“Look, Janet, you know that I don’t have that many girlfriends, but I’ve got to have bridesmaids in my wedding party. Now, I realize that Katie is your friend, but couldn’t you get her to be in the wedding for my sake?” Lisa’s voice was almost pleading, as she shot a worried look at her mother who was busy questioning the sales attendant.
“Oh, all right.” Janet caved in, weighed by the heavy guilt of the monstrous secret she was harboring, albeit unwillingly. “But first, can we please talk about that thing I mentioned…”
“Oh, thank you!” Lisa interrupted. “And why not invite Joe’s fiancée as well? What was her name? Daphne – yes, I think that’s it. She would round off the wedding party nicely, don’t you think?”
Immediately Janet regretted her impulsive weakness. That was classic Lisa: give her an inch, and she would take a mile.
“Lisa, I really need to talk to you about work: it’s important,” Janet tried to make her voice sound steely.
“What’s that I hear? Talk about work during a wedding dress fitting?” Emily Foley cut in. “Into the fitting room, you two. Janet, I’m afraid they don’t have a size ten on hand, so you’ll just have to try on a size four. That’s the largest size the store had for this dress, but if the overall shape fits, we’ll go ahead and order the correct size.”
“Thank you, Emily.” Janet eyed the tiny gown, thinking that most likely it would not even slide past her hips.
“This way, please.” The sales clerk carried the gown into the fitting room. “Would you like assistance with the dress?” The skeletal blonde eyed Janet almost fearfully.
“I’ll call you if I need you,” Janet snapped. There was only so much bullying a girl could take in a day.
Once alone in the fitting room, Janet stood in her tights, eyeing the dress with the grim determination of a soldier contemplating the enemy. At least she had been proactive enough to wear control-top underwear. That ought to ease things up by a few inches. Gingerly, Janet pulled the zipper on the gown. Here I come. Janet stepped into the silky skirt, cautiously pulling it up her legs and towards her hips, ready to cease at the slightest resistance.
A few tense moments later she exhaled with relief. Her hips had made it into the dress without any trouble, and she was even able to get her arms into the bodice of the gown. The blasted thing was on. Now, all she needed was to zip it up. If such a feat were possible.
“A little assistance please,” Janet called out, hoping that the sales girl would come to the rescue.
“Janet, how is it going in there?” Emily Foley’s voice pierced the dressing room silence.
“Fine, almost done. I’ll be out in a minute. I just need help zipping this thing up.”
“No matter, it’s good enough that you were able to get into it. Come on out, let’s have a look at you!” Emily urged.
Can this day get any worse? Oh, yes, it can – just wait until your friend hears what you have to tell her and calls you a backbiting snake, Janet answered her own question, hobbling out of the fitting room. She might have been able to squeeze herself into the dress, but walking in it was an entirely different matter.
“There you are.” Emily Foley eyed her appraisingly. “Under the circumstances, I’d say the result is much better than expected.”
Mercifully, Emily’s observations were interrupted by Lisa stepping out of the fitting room.
“Oh, my!” Emily gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. “You look stunning.”
“Don’t I?” Lisa’s eyes lit up as she twirled the heavy skirt around her.
“Like a princess,” Lisa’s mother confirmed.
“I told you that Janet wouldn’t steer me wrong. Don’t you think the dress looks great, Janet?”
Janet nodded. “I do.” As she looked at Lisa standing there starry-eyed, clad in a strapless gown of silk and chiffon, Janet felt an involuntary lump in her throat. This was Lisa’s big moment, but all Janet could think of was the ultimatum Dean Snider had given her on Friday night: I would appreciate an answer by Monday morning, he had said, as though two days were all it took to make up one’s mind about stabbing one’s friend in the back.
“And you look great too,” Lisa offered. “Lavender is definitely your color.”
Janet eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress was supposed to be a flowing off-the-shoulder gown, but instead, it fitted her like a sausage casting. Still, despite the wrong size, the color was flattering.
“The next time we come in, please make sure to have this dress in Janet’s size,” Lisa instructed the sales assistant.
“Of course,” the assistant nodded stiffly. “Would you like to try the next dress now?”
“I don’t know,” Lisa deliberated. “I think this is the one.”
“We could always come back to look at more dresses,” Janet offered, thinking that if she would not get to talk to Lisa soon, she was liable to burst from all the tension that was mounting up inside her.
“Do try the one I picked out for you, honey,” Emily urged.
“All right then.” Lisa smiled brightly. “This is fun.”
An hour and half and five dresses later they had finally emerged from the bridal salon. Much to Janet’s relief, Lisa had not committed to a dress, but had decided to come back for additional fittings. The way things were going, Lisa might need the money she intended to spend on the designer wedding gown for her lawyer fees, but Janet did not want to think about that just yet. She wanted to believe that there was still a way out.
“Well, Janet, I’m afraid we must leave you now,” Emily Foley announced. “Lisa and I have a spa appointment.”
“Lisa, I was hoping we could have a quick word?” Janet eyed her friend meaningfully.
“What time is our appointment?” Lisa asked her mother hesitantly.
“I’m afraid there’s no time. Your conversation can wait until Monday, but Lisa’s cellulite treatment cannot. She’s got to get in top shape for the wedding. Unless, of course, Janet you’d like to come along?” Emily eyed Janet’s hips. “I could make a call and squeeze you in.”
“No, thank you.” Janet shook her head, eager to bid goodbye before she lost her much-abused temper and strangled Lisa’s mother.
“Thanks for everything, Janet,” Lisa mumbled sheepishly. “We’ll talk on Monday, okay?”
“Sure.” Janet nodded. Short of yelling at the top of her lungs, a different reply was not an option.
Back in her apartment, Janet opened a bag of Doritos and slumped onto her couch, ignoring Baxter’s pleas for a treat.
“You should have thought of your loyalties before sucking up to that snitch Dean Snider, Mister.”
As if shamed by his past conduct, Baxter lowered his head and growled.
“Oh, fine, here you are.” Janet extended a Doritos chip to Baxter, which he immediately scooped up from her hand. She was pretty sure that Doritos were not part of a healthy canine diet, but the same could be said about the human diet. At the sight of Doritos, Emily Foley would probably run for the Stairmaster the way a priest would run for holy water to ward off forces of evil. Having a mother like that explained many of Lisa�
�s shortcomings, and in her softer moments, Janet was only too eager to make excuses for her friend, but there was a limit to the amount of softer moments one was entitled to, and right now, Janet felt pretty pissed off. There she was, worrying her head off about Lisa, while Lisa was happily prancing about with her wedding preparations. And how about the fact that it was Lisa who had gotten Janet into the whole Bostoff mess to begin with? Granted, Janet had been unemployed, but from where she stood now, it would have been far better to remain unemployed than work for a corrupt broker dealer that was being investigated by the Treasury.
The facts of the matter were that both Lisa and Janet were in a fix, and even though Lisa had gotten them both into the mess, she was not going to be much help getting them out of it. Janet would have to figure a way out all on her own. She had to make sure that innocent people did not get hurt in the Bostoff investigation, for, while Janet had no doubts about corruptness of Jon Bostoff and Tom Wyman, she was just as equally sure that Lisa and Jon’s brother, Paul Bostoff, were innocent bystanders, dragged along in a scheme they had little understanding of. What Janet was not sure of was Dean Snider’s view on the matter. Regulators were human too. They could be just as vain and career-hungry as any Wall Street raider. Only the regulators had the excuse of upholding the ‘law.’ She had seen innocent people swept under the rug in the heat of an investigation by regulators who were eager to make a name for themselves, and a man as calculating and cunning as Dean Snider had turned out to be struck her as just such a type.
Janet picked up the phone and dialed Dean’s number. She knew exactly what she was going to say. She would be brief and to the point, leaving him no ground to stand on.
“Janet?” Dean’s voice sounded almost relieved. “How are you?”
“Hello, Dean,” Janet replied coolly. The bugger was not going to get any small talk out of her. “I thought about your offer, and I’m going to accept, but on one condition,” Janet paused for emphasis. “No matter what the investigation reveals, Lisa Foley and Paul Bostoff are not going to be implicated in any of this. They walk away free and clear.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “Janet, I can’t promise you that. I’m pretty sure that I could strike a deal for Lisa, but Paul… He is the COO of the company; he will have to be questioned.”
“This is my offer. Take it or leave it. And mind you, I don’t even have to cooperate with you. It’s not as though you’ve got any proof to speak of.”
“No,” Dean’s voice turned rigid. “But if you refuse to cooperate, the conditions of the deal that I offered you are off. I don’t believe that I need to remind you that the New York Bar Association is most strict when it comes to licensed lawyers being implicated in fraudulent schemes.”
Blackmailing bastard. Janet clenched the telephone receiver in her hand, but then what did she expect – a knight in shining armor?
“So do we have a deal?”
“For Lisa, yes, but I can’t promise anything for Paul.”
“Fine. Let’s compare notes on Monday.” Janet pressed the off button on the phone, barely resisting the urge to smash the receiver against the wall.
Chapter 25
Janet had been waiting for Dean to knock on her door since the morning. It was four o’clock now, but there was still no sign of him. She had not seen him in any of the usual places where their paths had crossed so effortlessly just a week ago. He was not in the cafeteria or the kitchen, and even when Janet ventured to the trading floor, she did not see Dean at his desk. Could it be that the deal he had offered her was off? Perhaps he had already found all the evidence he needed and was sharing his findings with his boss at the Treasury this very moment. Who knew? The Treasury might then choose to involve the SEC, and the SEC could pull in the FBI. It all depended on how much information Dean had dug up and how career hungry the people involved were.
Unexpectedly, Janet found herself defending Bostoff Securities. She did not condone Bostoff’s machinations, but she thought that Dean’s technique was equally detestable. In fact, she thought it was much worse. Crooks were expected to act like crooks, but those serving the law were supposed to act with dignity and honor. It did not matter that the Treasury had obtained a court order for undercover surveillance of Bostoff Securities and assigned Dean to the case. What mattered was that he chose to lie to her and manipulate her emotions to get close to her. And what made it worse was that he had succeeded. Even now that Janet knew what a treacherous worm the man was, she could not help feeling palpitations at the thought of seeing Dean again. At first glance, hers was legitimate enough emotion since Janet’s own future and that of her friend’s now rested in Dean’s hands, but as annoyed as she was at herself, Janet had to admit that hers were not tremors of dread, but of excitement. Despite everything she had learned about the man, she could not squash her attraction to Dean Snider.
At four o’clock the suspense became unbearable, and Janet headed for Dean’s desk. She needed to know where she stood. Her pulse quickened as she spotted him behind his desk, typing away busily on his keyboard. He was all concentration and diligence. One would never suspect that Dean Snider was, in fact, a mole.
“Good afternoon.” Janet flashed him a brusque smile.
“Ah, hello there,” Dean answered with a distracted air of someone engrossed in his work.
“I am having problems with my computer; I was wondering if you could help me with that.”
“I’ll be right there,” Dean replied, still typing. “Just give me about twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Perplexed, Janet walked back to her office. For someone who had been so eager to get her help, Dean showed a startling lack of enthusiasm.
Janet closed the door of her office and sat down behind her desk. She looked over the trading blotter reports she had been poring over all day. The orders from Impala Group continued to flood in, and the prices of the targeted stocks were plummeting. The most prominent price decline was in Date Magic dot com: a recent IPO that had started trading at thirty five dollars, but was now as low as twelve dollars.
Date Magic. Janet raked her memory. The name sounded familiar. She searched the company name on the Internet and was instantly reminded why. Andrew Foley’s face beamed at her from the company’s website. He was the company CEO. Normally, Janet would have said that the sleazeball got what he deserved, but in this case Andrew Foley was not the only victim. There were the company employees and the shareholders to consider. The memory of Janet’s recent disturbing encounter with Andrew Foley aside, this was a strange development. Why would Jon Bostoff want to drive down the price of the company stock owned by Lisa Foley’s cousin? After all, they were practically family.
Janet checked her watch. It was twenty after four. Dean was certainly taking his time. Just then there was a knock on her door and she nearly jumped from the tension that was wound up inside her.
“Come in,” Janet called out in what she hoped was a calm voice.
“Hello, Janet.” Dean walked inside her office. She expected him to close the door behind him, but he left it open. “What seems to be the problem?”
For a moment, she stared at him wide-eyed, wondering whether Dean had been stricken by a severe case of amnesia. Then she understood: he was maintaining his cover.
“Like I said, my computer is malfunctioning.”
“Let’s have a look.” Dean walked over to her desk and stood close to her chair – way too close for her taste.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Janet whispered, bewildered by the idiocy of the situation. Why was she whispering in her own office?
“Not here,” Dean replied, his tone even. “I’ll meet you at your place at eight o’clock tonight.”
Janet’s eyebrows shot up from this brashness. The nerve of the guy. Did he think that along with her cooperation in the Bostoff investigation he was also going to receive the added bonus of getting into her bed?
“We need a quiet place to talk,
” Dean whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You could come over to my place instead. Or have you got any other suggestions?”
“My place is fine. Eight o’clock. You already know the directions,” Janet conceded. At least she would be dealing with the snake on her own turf.
“See you then,” Dean mouthed, and then added in a loud voice. “It’s all fixed now, Ms. Maple. Once your machine reboots, it will be good to go.”
At eight o’clock sharp, the doorbell of Janet’s apartment rang. Janet went to answer the door. Dean was standing at the threshold, a bottle of Jameson in one hand and a laptop case in the other. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, Henley shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Unlike the ill-fitted suits he wore at work, the outfit did justice to his tall, lanky physique, making Janet do a double take.
“I think I depleted your supply the other night,” he announced jauntily, making his way inside the apartment.
“I don’t really drink whiskey. It’s for the times that my neighbor visits,” Janet retorted. The guy sure did not miss a thing.
“I’ll do better next time.”
Janet placed the bottle of Jameson in the kitchen cupboard. There would be no social drinking tonight.
Dean took a seat on the couch, directing his attention to Baxter, who was barking happily at his arrival.
Traitor, Janet thought, watching Baxter wag his tail at Dean. Never before had Baxter’s radar been so off.
“I think we should get right to it,” Janet announced.
Dean placed his laptop on the coffee table, looking at her expectantly.
Janet bit her lip, realizing that the first person to speak was bound to be in a weaker position, but she had set up her own trap.
“Do you promise the terms that I’ve asked for?”
Dean nodded. “Almost all of them. I met with my boss today and he agreed to keep Lisa out of it. From what I’ve seen of her in action, she has no idea about the operations of Bostoff Securities anyway, but Paul Bostoff’s role in the company is too senior to grant him protection. Unless, of course, his brother were to say that Paul had nothing to do with the scheme. In that case, Paul would most likely be excluded from the investigation, but I doubt that Jon Bostoff would be that magnanimous.”
