“Damned if I know!” Jessica gets to her feet and walks to the window, glaring out at the skyline. “We go through this whole long interview process to find a personal assistant for me that he likes and then invariably during their first few days on the job he calls them to his office to do some kind of errand—and then they never come back!”

I laugh nervously and cross then uncross my legs. “What happens to them?”

“Perhaps they just can’t stand him. Perhaps they get scared off. Maybe he chops off their heads and throws their bodies in the Hudson. I. Don’t. Know. All I know is that my time has been wasted and then we have to interview scores of people again so he can . . . can—”

“Chop off someone else’s head?”

Jessica’s mouth twitches at the corners.

“Wow, your husband’s a regular Henry the Eighth.”

And now the laughter comes—still nervous, a little rueful, but I got her laughing.

“Our last assistant lasted less than a month,” she says once she collects herself. “That’s not usual. It’s always either a few days or it’s years. But Lloyd lasted a few weeks. Of course, in that case I do know what happened. There was an . . . incident. The other two who were with us for a while, they didn’t get in any trouble, and it’s not as if they stole from us or anything—”

“That’s good.”

“—and they certainly performed their duties to satisfaction, but . . .” Her voice fades off as she tries to explain and then settles on waving her hand in the air dismissively. “I don’t know. They just came across as a couple of miscreants. I hated having them in my home. But you . . . you’re different. You don’t seem like . . . like . . .”

“Like a miscreant?”

Again Jessica chuckles, but this time the laugh quickly fades and she puts one hand to her head and the other on the wall to steady herself. “Oh dear, I’m a bit woozy.”

I quickly stand and lead her back to the sofa. Jessica thanks me softly and then stares out the window again. “I’m taking a new . . . medication. I may have gotten the dosage wrong.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

Jessica flashes me a small, grateful smile. “You’re very . . . sweet.”

I suppress a smile. Clearly Jessica is a horrible judge of character. “Like I said, I like you. I’m sorry you’ve had so much trouble with your other assistants.” I place a careful hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “I hope you’ll feel differently about me. I mean . . . okay, I’m never going to be anything close to your equal in anything.” I pause, giving room for Jessica to interject with the expected Now, now, don’t be silly, but that doesn’t come. As far as Jessica’s concerned the inequality between the two of us is a given.