A shiny black sports car pulled alongside her, and Louis Sanborn, also newly employed by the Rancourts, rolled down his window and flashed his killer smile at her. "Hey, Ms. Photographer, need a ride over to the big house?"
Carine laughed. "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Security Man." Louis was tall and, despite his prematurely gray, scrub-brush hair, younger than he looked, probably just a year or two older than she was. The Rancourts had hired him two weeks ago as the assistant to their chief of security. "I don't mind walking. We won't get many more days like today. It's beautiful out."
"Only according to you granite-head types."
"It's in the fifties!"
"That's what I'm saying. Having a good lunch hour?"
"An excellent lunch hour."
"Me, too. See you over on Comm. Ave. "
His car merged back into the Newbury Street traffic. Carine continued on up to Exeter Street, then cut down it to Commonwealth Avenue. With its center mall and stately Victorian buildings, it was the quintessential street of Boston 's Back Bay, all of which was on reclaimed land that used to be under water-hence its name.
Still in no hurry, she sat on a bench on the mall, famous for its early springtime pink magnolias, now long gone. A toddler ran after a flutter of pigeons, and Carine tried not to think about the babies she'd meant to have with Ty, but, nonetheless, felt a momentary pang of regret. The toddler's mother scooped him up and swung him in the brisk November air, then set him back in his stroller. He was ticked off and started to kick and scream. He wanted to chase more pigeons. Two months ago-a month ago-the scene would have made Carine cry, but now she smiled. Progress, she thought.