laugh.
McAllister took a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase and handed it to her. âHere. Write down all you know or think about Coleman and Brown Press. All of it, gossip, everything. I want to know how I can make that place a going concern.â
Karen used all her strength to keep from smiling, but it was no use. She had a feeling heâd never before asked a woman her opinion of what he should buy or sell. His branch of Montgomery-Taggert was very small, and he had a few women executives, but everyone knew that McAllister Taggert was a law unto himself. He infuriated people in his employ by his stubborn insistence on doing things his own way. It further infuriated them that he was pretty much always right.
But now he was asking her opinion! âAye, aye, sir,â Karen said mockingly as she started to write, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see just a bit of a smile playing about his lips.
* Â * Â *
If Karen thought she was going to get any warmth out of Taggert, the notion was short-lived, for what time during the flight he didnât have his nose buried in papers, he was on the telephone. He ate with one hand, papers in the other. When they landed at Dulles Airport, outside D.C., he handed her three one-hundred-dollar bills, said, âGreen hanging,â then nodded toward the baggage carousel. Karen was tempted to give the porter one bill as a tip, but instead, she paid the five dollars out of her own pocket, then tried to find Taggert. He found her, rental car keys in his hand, and quickly, they went outside into the crisp, cold air to the car.
Once inside the warmth of the car, it felt almost intimateto be alone with him and she looked about for something to say. âIf Iâm to pretend to be your fiancée, shouldnât I know something about you?â
âWhat do you want to know?â he asked in a way that made Karen give him a look of disgust.
âNothing really. Iâm sure that knowing you are rich is enough for any woman.â
Karen had expected the jab to make him laugh or respond sarcastically, but it didnât. Instead, he just looked straight ahead, his brow creased in concentration. For the rest of the drive, Karen didnât bother to talk. She decided if anyone asked why she was planning to marry M.J. Taggert, sheâd say, âAlimony.â
He drove them through the highways of Virginia to Alexandria, then through wooded countryside, past beautiful houses until he reached a graveled road and made a sharp right. Minutes later a house came into view and it was the place where all little girls dreamed of spending Christmas: three stories, tall pillars in front, perfectly spaced windows. She half expected George and Martha Washington to greet them.
The front lawn and what she could see of the rolling gardens in the back were alive with people playing touch football, gathering armloads of wood, or just strolling. And there seemed to be children everywhere.
The moment the car was spotted, what seemed to be a herd of people descended on them, opening the door and pulling Karen out. They introduced themselves as Laura and Deborah and Larry and Dave andâ
One very good looking man grabbed her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. âOh!â was all Karen could say as she stared at him.
âIâm Steve,â he offered in explanation. âThe bridegroom? Didnât Mac tell you about me?â
Karen didnât think about what she was saying. âTaggert never speaks to me unless he wants something,â she blurted, then stared wide-eyed. These people were his friends, what would they think of her!?
To Karenâs consternation, they burst into laughter.
âMac, at last you found a woman who knows the trueyou,â Steve yelled across the roof of the car as he put one arm around Karenâs shoulders, then a pretty woman put another arm around her, and they led her into the house, all of them
Learning to Kill: Stories