Free The Expected One by Kathleen McGowan Page B

amulets of esoteric design over her black lace tank top. She was nearly forty but looked a full ten years younger.
    Tammy was flamboyant where Maureen was conservative, loud and opinionated where Maureen was discreet and careful. They could not have been more different in their lives and work, yet they had found a ground of mutual respect that had made them fast friends.
    “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Tammy.” Maureen sat down and ordered iced tea. Tammy rolled her eyes, but was too excited by the reason for their meeting to berate Maureen for her conservative beverage choice.
    “Are you kidding? Bérenger Sinclair is stalking you and you think I wouldn’t want to hear every juicy detail?”
    “Well, you were very coy with me on the phone, so you’d better own up. I can’t believe you know this guy.”
    “I can’t believe you don’t. How in God’s name — literally — did you publish a book that includes Mary Magdalene without going to France for research? And you call yourself a journalist.”
    “I
do
call myself a journalist, which is precisely why I didn’t go to France. I have no interest in all that secret society stuff. That’s your department, not mine. I went to Israel to do serious research on the first century.”
    The good-natured ribbing was integral to their friendship. Maureen had first met Tammy during her research; a mutual friend had introduced them after learning that Maureen was investigating Mary Magdalene’s life for her book. Tammy had published several alternative books on secret societies and alchemy, and a documentary she made about underground spiritual traditions featuring Magdalene worship had received critical acclaim on the festival circuit. Maureen had been shocked by what a close-knit network esoteric researchers maintained, because it seemed that Tammy knew everyone. And while Maureen quickly realized that Tammy’s alternative approach was far from what she was looking for in terms of respectable source material, she also recognized the sharp mind behind the heavy eye makeup, the substance beneath the show. Maureen admired Tammy’s raw courage and brutal honesty, even when she was on the receiving end of her needling.
    Tammy reached into her neon orange tote bag to pull out an elegant envelope. She waved it tantalizingly in front of Maureen’s nose before sliding it across the table at her. “Here, I wanted to show this to you in person.”
    Maureen raised an eyebrow at her friend as she saw the now-familiar fleur-de-lis design combined with the odd blue apples patterned on the envelope. She removed an engraved invitation and began to read.
    “It’s an invitation to Sinclair’s very exclusive annual costume ball. Looks like I finally made the big time. Did he send you one of these, too?”
    Maureen shook her head. “No. Just the weird message about meeting him on the summer solstice. How did you get this invitation?”
    “I met him during
my
research in France,” she said pointedly. “I’m petitioning him for funding to finish my new documentary. He’s interested in creating one of his own, so we’re negotiating — you know, I’ll scratch his back if he scratches mine.”
    “You’re working on a new film? Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “You haven’t exactly been around lately, have you?”
    Maureen looked sheepish. She had neglected her friends terribly during the career craziness of the past months. “Sorry. And stop looking so bloody pleased with yourself. What else aren’t you telling me? Did you know about this Sinclair thing? About him…stalking me?”
    “No, no. Not at all. I’ve only met him once but damn, I wish he wanted to stalk
me.
Worth a billion — that’s billion with a B — and gorgeous to boot. You know, Reenie, this could be really good for you. For Chrissakes, let your hair down and go have a great adventure. When was the last time you were even on a date?”
    “Not the point.”
    “Maybe it is.”
    Maureen waved