“No,” Travis says slowly. He throws Jessica a look and she immediately gets up and moves back to her seat in the corner as if she’s getting out of the way of an anticipated explosion. “If this is what you want to do I have no interest in stopping you,” he continues. “I’m glad you came around about Highkin. He will be useful.”

“I’m sure of it,” Lander replies. “I only wonder that you have room in your pockets for another politician.”

“Well,” Travis says with a small smile, “it’s a good thing my pockets are so extraordinarily large.”

“Yes,” Lander says distractedly as he reaches inside his jacket for his checkbook. “Jessica, I’ll write you one check for the dress and another for the fund-raiser. Will that work?”

“Perfectly,” she whispers. Her two minutes have clearly been spent and she’s now turned back into a pumpkin.

Lander whips out a pen and walks over to the desk as Jessica, following him at a safe distance, tells him who to make the fund-raising check out to.

Travis doesn’t object and instead busies himself with the emails on his phone. And yet, even though his eyes are on his screen, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching me. It’s like he’s sending me a silent warning . . . or perhaps a threat.

When Lander’s done he puts his checkbook back into his pocket, only to pull out his cell. “So that’s all settled. Bell, can I have your number so we can make arrangements?”

I rattle off the number he already has and he makes a show of typing it in. Travis looks up from his own phone, his expression hard and impatient. “It was good of you to stop by, Lander.”

“As I said, it was on my way. I’ll see myself out,” Lander replies, easily taking the hint. “Always a pleasure, Jessica.” And then he turns to me, his smile filled with mischief. “I look forward to seeing your choice of attire.”

None of us move as he walks out of the room, and we stay silent until we hear the sound of the front door clicking closed.

The slow way Travis’s head turns in my direction reminds me a little of the Komodo dragon I saw at the Bronx Zoo. It’s a leisurely movement, almost nonchalant, and yet you just know that whatever has attracted the beast’s attention is not long for this world.

“I need to talk to Bell alone,” he says coolly.

“Travis, I really—” Jessica begins, but he stops her with a small gesture of his hand.

“I can talk to her alone in here or she and I can speak privately in the bedroom while you wait for us. Your choice.”