Schooled in Revenge

by Lasky, Jesse

  Only Charlie knew about her renovation project.

  Why would he save the painting?

  She walked away, rattled and confused.

  “Do you get sad, being here?” Reena asked softly.

  Ava thought about it. “Not anymore. Now I just get angry.”

  She was on the staircase leading to the house when she realized Reena was still on the cellar floor.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Reena shook her head. “I’m just…” She laughed a little. “Well, I’m not even sure I know what it feels like, but I guess I’m scared.” She hesitated. “And it creeps me out to think of sidling up to that bastard, Reinhardt, when Cruz—”

  Ava walked back down the stairs. “Listen to me. You can do this. For your mother. For Cruz. For Simon, alone in a prison cell, petrified and desperate. You’re not betraying Cruz. You’re continuing his mission. And by doing that, you’re keeping him alive.”

  Reena took a deep breath and put her hand on Ava’s shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  They ascended the stairs leading to the estate. Ava opened a door at the top, pushing aside a small rolling shelf unit inside a large pantry. Reena stopped behind her as Ava slid open the pantry doors to reveal a sliver of the main kitchen.

  Waiters and waitresses moved frantically about, too busy to notice the two women slip from the pantry and head for the corridor. Continuing down the main hall, they approached the big wooden doors that would take them to the party, in full swing in the tasting room.

  “I hope no one recognizes me,” Reena said as Ava reached for the door.

  “Don’t worry,” Ava said. “They’ll all be looking at me anyway.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  She’d been expecting him, but the sight of Charlie roaming the tasting room still felt like a harsh slap in the face.

  A tall, voluptuous blonde graced his arm as he laughed with the guests, patting them on the back and listening intently when they spoke to him. Like they were the only people in the room. In the world.

  Ava knew that look, that feeling, all too well.

  The Sangiovese flowed freely as men in Armani tuxedos stood next to women in designer dresses and Jimmy Choo stilettos. Ava and Reena waited for Charlie to move into the adjoining room before entering the party. Ava braced herself as the guests swiveled their collective heads, eyes coming to rest on her.

  A murmur rolled through the crowd like a tidal wave, picking up speed as everyone realized who stood before them.

  “Oh, God,” Ava whispered to Reena. “All eyes on me.”

  “It’s what we need to make everything else happen,” Reena reminded her.

  “Well, you’re the media darling,” Ava said. “What do I do?”

  Reena flashed a smile bright enough to light the room. “Smile.”

  Ava walked farther into the room, head held high, as everyone continued their conversations, albeit with one eye on her.

  “So,” Reena said, looking around. “Which one is she?”

  Ava scoped out the candidates. A beautiful woman sipped sherry over by a vintage café table. She wore a custom-tailored dress with a diamond necklace Ava pegged as real.

  Not her.

  Over by the fireplace, two dark-haired girls in faux-fur and hoop earrings laughed as a couple of sweater-vest-wearing sycophants in black-rimmed glasses did their best to keep the ladies entertained.

  Interesting. But definitely not the kind of high-end prostitute hired by someone like Reinhardt.

  “How about her?” Reena indicated an hourglass-shaped woman with crossed legs and a nest of black hair, face tipped to her phone as her fingers flew across the keys.

  But Ava shook her head, motioning to the other side of the room where a tall, buxom woman with red hair surveyed the crowd, her fascination obvious. Her dress was just a little too low-cut, a rose pinned to one of the spaghetti straps.

  “It’s her,” Ava said.

  Reena seemed surprised. “How do you know?”

  “A Napa socialite wouldn’t be so curious. This kind of party is old hat up here. Plus, the lip gloss is a little too thick, the dress a little too—”

  “Got it,” Reena said with a chuckle. “So you’re sure?”

  She tipped her head at the woman. “Look for yourself.”

  The woman was openly studying the décor, running her hand over a gold-plated wine opener hanging on the wall. Ava remembered it, a gift from the OIV during a particularly rewarding year that saw Ava and her grandmother on the cover of Napa Valley’s regional wine magazine. Starling’s Cabernet had blown the competition out of the water at the Concours Mondial de Bruxelles international wine festival.

  “Okay, then,” Reena said, taking a deep breath.

  “You can do this,” Ava said.

  She watched as Reena stood a little straighter, her manner changing from reserved wallflower to sultry seductress as she sashayed toward the copper-haired girl-for-hire.

  A moment later, someone tapped Ava’s shoulder.

  She turned, nearly swallowing her own tongue as she came face-to-face with Charlie.

  All the preparation in the world hadn’t prepared her for the shock of seeing him, of being so close to him. She was caught in the net of his cologne, a scent he’d been wearing since the day she met him. A montage of memory flashed through her mind. Their first kiss. The first time they made love.

  But it only took a second to remember how it all ended.

  “Ava,” he breathed, his face white with shock.

  She forced a placid expression on her face, surprised when the rest of her body followed. Tranquility flowed through her as she looked at his face. Finally. Finally.

  “So then you remember,” she said.

  “Remember? Of course I remember,” he said, smiling nervously. “But what are you doing here?”

  “The expression is ‘you can’t go home again,’ right?” she said. “I guess I wanted to find out for myself.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What do you really want, Ava?” She smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the center of the room. “To dance.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “You’re looking for William Reinhardt, aren’t you?” Reena asked the redhead.

  She nodded. “My name’s Kandi. With an i. And a K.”

  “Of course it is.” Reena smirked, her sarcasm floating well above Kandi’s head.

  She looked down at the small silk rose pinned to her dress. “They told me to wear this. Should I just wait here?”

  Reena lowered her eyes to the flower. “The rose…?”

  “So he can find me?” Kandi explained, like Reena wasn’t very bright.

  Reena nodded her understanding, grateful for the little bit of good luck. “Actually, I was sent over by Mr. Reinhardt. Something has come up. I’m afraid he won’t be requiring your services this evening.”

  “But I was booked for the whole night,” she pouted.

  Reena began propelling her toward the door, maneuvering to pluck the rose from her dress. “And I’m sure he will make good on the, er, invoice. Have a good evening, Kandi with a K.”

  “And an i.”

  Reena tried not to roll her eyes. “How could I forget?”

  She watched Kandi walk away, and waited until the other woman was out of sight to pin the rose on her own dress.

  A moment later, Reinhardt entered the room. The waiters and waitresses hurried to his side, eager to offer him hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Reena watched him preen, obviously enjoying the attention.

  He made the rounds, meeting and greeting everyone in attendance. Reena wondered if it was her imagination that the locals seemed uncomfortable, their smiles stiff, their handshakes a little too effusive.

  His gaze was pulled to hers, as if he could feel the weight of her stare. They locked eyes, Reena making a point to hold it just a little longer than necessary. His gaze slid to the rose pin at her breast.

  A look of surprise passed briefly o
ver his face. She gave him a slow, seductive smile.

  Game on.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  “I’m not doing this,” Charlie said, his hand on the curve of Ava’s lower back.

  “We’re just dancing, Charlie. We’ve done it before. Of course, that was when I thought it actually meant something. But still.”

  “Not here, not now,” Charlie said between clenched teeth.

  Ava pulled him in closer as the woman named Bo watched warily from the edge of the room. “I think a dance is the least that you owe me.”

  She looked over his shoulder, watching as Reinhardt moved toward Reena like a heat-seeking missile. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Reena nodded, and he put a hand on her back, guiding her to the door.

  Ava hoped Reena would be okay. Somehow they had become more than comrades in arms. They had become friends. Ava wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.

  She refocused on Charlie, pressing seductively against him. Now that Reinhardt was gone, Charlie was all hers.

  One song ended and a new one began, this one softer and slower. Charlie looked down at her, his gaze softening. Her resolve, moments before rock-solid, faltered under the heat of his deep blue stare. They had always had passion. Always had that mysterious brand of chemistry that was impossible to deny and just as impossible to force.

  You either had it with someone, or you didn’t.

  She and Charlie had it in spades, and she was annoyed to find that it was still there, even after everything he’d done to her.

  “We were good, weren’t we?” Charlie remembered. “Before everything went bad?”

  The reminder was just what she needed. Everything had gone bad. Worse than bad.

  “Just answer me this, Charlie: Was any of it real?”

  He stepped away, putting a few inches between their bodies, and twirled her. She fanned out, eyes still on his, before spinning back into him.

  “Well?” she pressed, surprised to find she wanted an answer.

  “It all got blurred together,” he admitted.

  “There’s nothing you can say for certain wasn’t a part of the con?”

  He turned her around as the music changed again. They began to waltz slowly.

  “Love,” he said simply.

  At first, Ava was thrown. It wasn’t the answer she had expected. But then she realized Charlie’s gaze was fixed not on her face, but on something just over her shoulder.

  Glancing behind her, she saw the tall blonde approaching. He hadn’t been speaking to her at all.

  Had he?

  Ava’s and Charlie’s bodies quickly unfurled.

  “Love, this is—” Charlie began.

  Bo extended an elegant hand. “Ava Winters, yes?”

  They shook hands, Bo sizing up Ava with a narrowing of her made-up eyes.

  “Charlie,” Bo said, “there are some people I’d like you to meet.” She looked at Ava. “Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?”

  Ava shook her head. “Not at all.”

  Charlie leaned toward Ava as Bo turned away, heading for the bar. “Why are you here?”

  “I just want to talk, Charlie.”

  “Here?”

  “No, not here.”

  “Then where?”

  Her stare was meaningful. “You know where.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  In an alcove off the tasting room, Reena had her hands full.

  She’d been dodging Reinhardt’s advances—left, right, and literally in between—since they’d left the party. She’d had enough batting of eyes and licking of lips to last a lifetime. It disgusted her. He disgusted her. But it was important she play the part of the debauched whore.

  And play it she would.

  For Cruz and everyone else Reinhardt had screwed over.

  Reinhardt gawked at her like a starving hyena, running a hand along her shoulder, dangerously close to her breast.

  “I have a meeting upstairs in a half an hour,” he said. “Why don’t you wait for me down here.”

  She moved closer, running a hand up his chest and biting her lower lip. “A half an hour is a long time,” she purred. “Maybe I could keep you company until then.”

  She was going to listen in on that meeting, one way or another.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  She leaned in, nibbling his ear. “Exactly what you paid for,” she whispered.

  He took her hand, pressing dry lips to her knuckles, his tongue flicking over her skin like slime. “I’ll lead the way.”

  Reena followed him up the stairs, both exhilarated and scared. She didn’t have the key to ruining him completely. Not yet. But they were close. She would play her part. She just hoped she could hold him off until Wells made his appearance.

  Reinhardt wrapped his arm around her as they reached the top of the stairs, an elaborate chandelier hanging above them. For a moment, she imagined pushing his body over the railing, watching him slam into the marble below.

  It would be so easy. And feel so good.

  But that wouldn’t save Simon. And it wasn’t part of the mission.

  His hand slid lower, squeezing her ass as they headed for the double doors at the end of the hall. She bit her inner cheek to hold back her repulsion, forcing a smile. She said she’d do anything for vengeance.

  But as they entered Reinhardt’s master suite, she just hoped she wouldn’t have to.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  “We should be in there with them,” Jane said, nervously tapping one heeled foot.

  “Relax,” Shay said. “We’re staying here. If they need us, I’ll take care of it.”

  They sat in Marie’s sedan, watching a battalion of shaggy-haired valets in red suits park both vintage automobiles and electric cars as Reinhardt’s security muscled around the front of the property.

  Shay’s cavalier attitude only served to make her angry. Everyone else was inside working while she stayed in the car with Shay like a little kid, too young to see the late show.

  “Why did Takeda send me a dress if I’m going to be stuck in this car?” she asked.

  “Everyone at the party is dressed up. We might be outside, but we still need to blend in,” he explained.

  “Why even bring me if I’m not going to do anything?” she fumed.

  “So I can keep an eye on you.”

  She crossed her hands over her chest, knowing it made her look childish, but not caring.

  “This is bullshit,” she said. “Whatever—and whoever—is inside that estate might be able to unlock my memory. The only thing I have now is Takeda’s training. I’m sick of everyone else making these decisions for me.”

  “Bullshit?” He grinned. “Well, I’m glad you have your voice back.”

  She turned to the window. “That doesn’t let you off the hook.”

  Silence enveloped the car.

  “I remember when I first saw you,” he finally said, “lying on the bed in your washitsu. Takeda knew you’d come out of it stronger than ever, but me… I wasn’t so sure.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t remember seeing you on Rebun.”

  “Takeda assigned me to infiltrate Cain’s organization. I left before you woke up.”

  “So Cain, Reinhardt… all of this, it’s about you, too? Part of your revenge?” she asked, momentarily distracted from her anger by the possibility of learning something about Shay.

  He looked away. “The difference between you and me, Jane, is that you have secrets you want to remember. I have secrets I wish I could forget.”

  “That’s not an answer.” She said it softly, not wanting to take advantage of Shay’s unusual display of vulnerability. “But I have to admit that there has always been something familiar about you. Weird, since you left Rebun Island before I even woke up.”

  He put his hand gently on hers. “Does this help?”

  She looked down at their hands, resting on the console of the sedan. Strangely, there was something
familiar about it.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  She did it without question.

  “For the first two weeks you were on Rebun Island”—his voice wrapped around her like velvet in the hushed and darkened car—“I held your hand every night before bed. I even talked to you sometimes, although I didn’t know if you could hear me. I told Takeda it was because I didn’t want you to feel alone, but the truth is, I was more alone than anyone.”

  She opened her eyes, closing her hand around his, studying his scarred knuckles. “Now I know why you feel so familiar.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Reinhardt kissed Reena’s neck as his hand crept up Reena’s thigh. They were in the large master bedroom lying on his massive four-poster bed.

  She slapped his hand away, trying to maintain a teasing smile. She needed to string him along a little, keep him going until the meeting with Wells.

  Reinhardt chuckled.

  “Maybe a drink,” she suggested, “to loosen things up.”

  Ignoring the suggestion, he started sliding the dress off her shoulder. “How about I quench your thirst instead?”

  He touched his lips to her neck, traveling toward her chest. She cringed, forcing herself not to pull away. She thought of Cruz instead, his tender touch, the adoration in his eyes when he looked at her.

  But when Reinhardt’s tongue moved farther downward, she knew it was time for Plan B.

  Reaching for her garter, she touched the small knife she’d taken from Tavern Red, her own secret backup in case things went wrong. She was holding the blade over his back, about to carve the life out of him, when a knock sounded at the door.

  He groaned, glancing at his fancy watch. Reena slid the knife back into her garter as he moved off the bed.

  “Don’t move,” he said, heading for the door.

  He opened the door, his voice a murmur as he greeted whomever was on the other side. A moment later, Senator Jacob Wells strode into the room.