4

ALLIE DIALED THE NUMBER OF HER TEMP AGENCY MANAGER AND FORMER bar-hopping partner, Trudi Wexler. They still kept in touch by phone and e-mail, but hadn’t seen much of each other since Trudi got married and started shooting out babies like a Pez dispenser. She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Al! What’s up? Are you home yet?”

“I just got back yesterday. I would’ve called you earlier, but I was beat. I took out my contacts and just flopped down on my bed. I didn’t wake up until, like, half an hour ago. Want to grab a cup of coffee?”

“Allie, it’s nine o’clock at night.”

“Okay, so get decaf. What do you say?”

Trudi laughed. “Let me ask Dave. He brought work home, but Maddie just went down and I’ve fed the twins, so I might be able to sneak out for an hour or so. Hold on a sec.” Muffled voices for half a minute. “Okay, where do you want to meet?”

“How about the Starbucks on Powell just off of Market.”

“Sounds good. The one right there on the corner?”

“No, no. The one a block to the north.”

“Oh, okay. The one in the Nikko or the one on the street?”

“On the street.”

“Got it. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”

Allie got there first and ordered an Americano and a scone. While she was waiting for her order to come up, Trudi walked in. She looked different somehow. Older. Her hair was still jet-black and her face still belonged in an Oil of Olay ad, but she definitely looked older. Less makeup, shorter hair, flats instead of heels, naked lobes instead of gold hoops, a tired look around the mouth and eyes. It hit Allie: Trudi looked like a mom. How depressing.

Trudi gave Allie an affectionate hug and ordered a decaf latte with skim milk. She turned to Allie with a bright smile. “So, tell me about the tour! How was it?”

“It was great, but I’m wiped. We hit ten cities in two weeks and the band’s manager threw out his back moving equipment after the first show, so I had to help out a lot more than I usually do—driving, dealing with little problems at the venues, and stuff like that. I slept four or five hours a night. It was fun, but I’m getting too old for this kind of thing.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Trudi as she picked up her coffee. She opened her mouth as if to say something more, but just took a sip of her coffee. They found an isolated little table in the corner and perched on a couple of bar stools.

“So, how’s Erik?” asked Trudi. “How was it being with him 24/7 for two weeks straight?”

“Erik’s fine,” replied Allie. “He loves being on tour. The energy from the crowd just lights him up. The real trick is switching him back off afterward. He’s so fired up after a concert that he wants to stay up all night.”

Trudi nodded and looked Allie in the eyes. “Meth does that too, doesn’t it? Is he still using?”

Yes. The image of postconcert Erik, chattering nonstop and stinking of sweat and meth mouth, pushed itself into Allie’s mind. She looked down at her coffee. She’d also seen him and the other band members selling a few times. Fans—usually nervous young men with bad teeth and furtive eyes—would come up to the band’s van when no one was around, and money and plastic baggies would exchange hands.

Allie forced a smile. “He’d better not be. He knows how I feel about that crap. So, how’s business? Got any jobs for me?”

Allie could see the concern in Trudi’s eyes, but she let the Erik issue lie. “For my best temp? Of course I’ve got jobs.” She paused and bit her lip. “My boss would kill me if she heard me say this, but do you want something permanent? One of our clients is looking for someone who knows accounting software and government contracting rules, and you know both of those better than anyone I’ve ever met. The money and benefits would be better than you’re getting now, and there’d be advancement opportunities. What do you think?”

Allie shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve tried that before and I get bored after a few months and quit. Or I want to take a month off and fry myself on a beach or go boarding or something. That’s fine if I’m temping, but it doesn’t work so well if I’ve got a permanent job.”

Trudi laughed and shook her head. “You’re amazing! Dave and I both work full-time, and we can just barely afford a week in Tahoe every year. You work part-time as a temp and you’re always taking these exotic vacations and you’ve got a great apartment in Noe Valley. How do you do it?”

Allie smiled and took a long sip from her coffee as she searched for something to say other than By secretly suing your clients, of course. “Well, I own some stock in a little company that pays big dividends. That, and I clip coupons.”

“Wow, I’ve got to buy some of that stock with my next bonus. What’s the company?”

Allie cleared her throat and shook her head. “Sorry, but it’s… it’s privately held. So the stock isn’t for sale. Besides, the owner doesn’t like to talk about the company. It, um, it does hush-hush government work. If word got out, there’d be the devil to pay.”