Razor Edge: Razor Trilogy Three (Razor Thriller Romance Novella Book 3)

by Nadine Doolittle

  As my friends hashed over possible suspects, I snuck another admiring look at the dress I was wearing. Alexander McQueen. Red. Short flared skirt. Fitted bodice. Two thousand dollars. Daniel had it sent over from Saks this afternoon with a note attached: “Don’t wear the jeans to dinner.” I added a touch of my own to the outfit—combat boots. Just so he’d know where we stood.

  Susan was watching me. “A new dress?” she whispered. “Charlotte, in a few months you’re not going to be where able to wear that. It’s a waste of money and you don’t have any money.”

  “I didn’t buy it.”

  “Oh fuck. He bought it for you.” Susan rolled her eyes. “That’s not going to end well,” she added ominously. “This came for you today.” She reached into the black handbag at her feet and pulled out an envelope. Susan handed it to me.

  It was from the Geneva Conservatory. I tore it open and withdrew the letter inside. My name was at the top, a friendly greeting, but the rest of it was very dry, very formal—they were cutting me from the program. I still hadn’t come up with my last installment and they had no choice but to give my seat away to another violinist.

  My eyes filled with tears and my hand shook.

  “What is it?” Phil asked.

  I tried to pull myself together. “I’ve lost my place in Geneva. I was kind of expecting it, so it’s not big news. I guess I was hoping they’d give me more time to come up with the money.” My voice broke a little. “I was so close.”

  “Shit, honey … I’m sorry.”

  I tried to shrug it off. “Maybe it’s a sign I’m supposed to be working and not training. The BSO is auditioning this fall. I’m not giving up, guys. Temporary setback—that’s all this is.”

  “The Boston Symphony Orchestra is probably more difficult to get into than Geneva,” Myles said. “You’re technically proficient; but you lack heart, guts and soul. Your focus is too one note, too singular. Like, you’re all foreplay and no intercourse. You’re driven and it shows in your music. But you haven’t picked up your cross, that’s your whole problem.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I was hurt and angry. I didn’t ask for sympathy but I wasn’t prepared to be criticized.

  “You haven’t accepted suffering as your natural fate for being a violinist. We’re not just the background music at swanky tech mole parties. We are classical musicians. There’s a cost playing this music. You have to inhabit it and that’s something you resist doing. Feeling pain.”

  “What a load of bull,” Phil exclaimed. “Charlotte has incredible depth in her musicianship. You’re jealous because she is technically proficient and she can build on that. Try playing without technique and see how far you get. She can build on her discipline. The rest will come.”

  “I’m a cellist. I don’t give a shit how good she is on the violin. She’s perfect, is all I’m saying. She plays perfectly. But if she’s going to impress the BSO, she’s going to have to deliver a lot more than perfection. And you’re doing her a disservice by constantly puffing up her ego with flattery and telling her how brilliant she is. I’m a better friend to her than that because I’m telling her the truth. They didn’t hold her place in Geneva because she’s good enough to get in but not good enough to bend the rules to keep her.”

  “What are you saying—Phil? Myles? Do I produce cold soulless notes?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Phil and Myles spoke the same time.

  Susan interrupted. “It’s like Phil said—it’s easier to get hired with sound discipline and technique than it is to be all art and no craft. Charlotte’s life is about to change and she’ll have more than enough heart to put into her music. No worries, boys.”

  A shiver of alarm ran through me. “Susan,” I said warningly.

  “I only meant the Geneva thing—your life is about to change because you didn’t get into Geneva. That’s all I meant.” Susan clamped her mouth shut, blazing red.

  Myles looked from me to Susan and back again. “No you didn’t. Susie, how is Charlotte’s life about to change?”

  “You’ll have to ask Charlotte,” Susan said, with meaning.

  Myles and Phil looked at me, interested. “What’s going on?” asked Myles. “You two have been whispering together off and on for weeks. Phil and I have been too polite to ask. This isn’t idle curiosity. If it affects the group we should know.”

  “It’s none of your business,” I said.

  “Of course it’s none of our business,” Phil said. “That’s why we’re asking. Although, as your lawyer I should know everything so technically, it is my business.”

  I felt my face go hot which was really galling because now Phil and Myles would know for sure I was covering up something. “It’s nothing, Phil. This has nothing to do with any of you. If I wanted to tell you I would tell you, but there’s nothing to say, nothing to see here—so get off my back.”

  “Sorry, man,” Myles whined. “We wouldn’t have asked if wasn’t important.”

  “It isn’t,” Susan said quickly. “I mean, it isn’t important to the quartet. There was an attempt on Charlotte’s life and she lost her place with Geneva. At the moment, Myles, those two things are far more important. I mean, if you want my honest opinion, you behaving like a shit, bullying Charlotte to talk when she said she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  She glared at Myles. The air in the room crackled with hostility and mistrust.

  “All right, guys, let’s get on with it,” Phil said to break the tension. “We need to rehearse and Daniel Razor isn’t going to let us stay here all night. Beethoven’s violin concerto in D major.”

  I set my violin under my chin and bent over, almost hugging the instrument. Phil would criticize my posture later but I didn’t care. If I didn’t hold onto the music, I’d lose it.

  The full skirt of the stupid dress swam before my eyes. I wanted to blame Daniel Razor for losing the one chance I had to become a professional concert violinist.

  So I did.

  chapter four

  ♫

  “THIS IS YOUR fault.”

  I flung the letter at him as I passed his chair to take my seat. Marshall took fine dining seriously. I was seated at the opposite end of a ten-foot, polished dining table. An elaborate candelabrum sat in the center. I felt like I’d wandered onto the set of Phantom of the Opera.

  Daniel read the letter. “Why didn’t you pay the fees?”

  “Because I didn’t have the money after you fired me from every job! I had rent to pay and a new violin to pay for because I ordered it before Joel disappeared. I had to pay for it. Why do you think I was sleeping on Susan’s floor? I’m not rich. My parents don’t have money. The competitiveness and training to get to this level is more than you can imagine. It’s tougher than anything you’ve ever had to do at Razor Industries. You think that it’s tough being the CEO of a multi-national corporation? You should try a career in the arts for a real ball-busting experience. I was insane to think I had the talent to do this—”

  I broke off, hardly able to speak. It was killing me—that letter was killing me.

  “You have talent. You’re brilliant.”

  “Brilliance is not enough in my world. I have to be super-human. You wouldn’t understand. You want to do something and you do it. You’ve never known a different life. I’ve never known what it’s like to be rich until I met you and Joel. I started to think like you guys did, that I could do anything.” I broke off again to wipe my eyes on my napkin and blow my nose.

  “I’m sorry you lost your place, Charlotte. What will you do now?”

  “What will I do now? I’m going to eat the dinner you ordered for us and then I’m asking Jackson to drive me to Susan’s place. I’ll sell this dress and the rest of the wardrobe you bought me on eBay and live off that until I find a job. Detective Lewis has cleared me to leave the state so I’ll stay with my folks until I find a job. What will I do now? That’s kind of an insensitive questio
n.”

  He rested his elbows on the table and linked his fingers together. “Will you give up the violin? That’s what I meant. What will you do to continue your studies?”

  I jumped to my feet because I really wanted to throw something. “Nothing! Don’t you get it? It’s over. This was my last shot. I spent an entire year preparing for that audition just to get accepted to the conservatory. Between the jobs I took to keep a roof over my head and the rehearsal time I put in, I was working twenty hours a day. The physical demands alone were intense. I trained like an athlete: protein drinks with kale, brown rice and vegetables, no caffeine despite never getting enough sleep. Hand stretches morning and night, and yoga, Pilates and running to build up my stamina. I had no personal life. I’d turn off my phone; even my parents couldn’t get in touch with me. And on top of all that, I had to stay free with the music. I had to let it be my guide, inform me and become one with it because ultimately, this is about instinct, nerves of steel, and genius. I don’t control it. When my shot came, I had ten minutes to impress the selection committee. A blind audition, behind a screen, a single mistake and it’s over.  A flawless performance and I could join one of the world’s most renowned conservatories for music.”

  “And you gave a flawless performance.”

  I flopped to my chair, weak with misery. “I gave the best performance of my life. It’s an alchemy that may never happen again. The audition is a sacred ritual. To win a seat anywhere is a tremendous honor.”

  Daniel’s dark stare reached across the room. “Why do you do it?”

  “I don’t know.” I would’ve laughed hysterically if I weren’t so filled with hate for everything in that moment. “Honestly, I don’t know why it’s important. With so much life has to offer, I’m consumed by a single thought: Give me success or take this away from me. I can’t live a half-sort-of-life of an unsuccessful musician. I had my chance and I fucked it up.” I wiped my eyes. Literally, could not stop crying. “Sorry. Never mind. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to want something and never quite get it.”

  Daniel poured a glass of wine. “You’re not drinking?” He motioned to my empty glass.

  “I don’t drink for heartbreak. I eat.” (The baby would at least emerge from my body sober. Though God knows how we were going to manage after that. I wondered how I was going to break the news to my parents they’ll have two more mouths to feed on their artist incomes.)

  Daniel’s brow furrowed as he cut into his filet mignon. “I don’t know what it’s like to want something and not get it. You’re right about that. I’ve always got what I went after. I used to act on every impulse that popped into my head. Friends said I was self-destructive. I didn’t think I was. It felt good to walk the edge. It soothed an ache I had to test the limits of my mortality. It was selfish. It hurt people who cared about me and drove some of those people away. I regret some of it. Some of it I know was necessary to get me to where I am now.”

  “Engaged to a beautiful, sweet girl, CEO of the family business, wildly successful, handsome and popular, and all it took was a few years of reckless behavior and a platinum card.”

  I was bitter. I wasn’t up for a lecture on how setbacks built character.

  “I’m not interested in that identity as much as you think I am. I’m like you in that I have one over-riding thought that drives me. The only thing that matters to me is protecting Joel. He’s my brother. He’s all I really care about in this life. The rest of it can go to hell.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “To explain the difference between us is you will give up and I won’t. I need to know what you wrote in your journal. About the night Joel assaulted you.”

  I was completely taken aback. So that’s why Daniel wanted my journal. He was determined to protect Joel at all costs. I felt almost sorry for him because I understood the futility of running after something we don’t control. We can only do our best and most of the time, our best won’t be good enough.

  “Daniel, no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to save Joel. That’s your big fear, isn’t it? Joel wasn’t himself that night. All I said about it was that he was different and it scared me. You have to stop worrying that I’m going to destroy your stepbrother. I could tell you why it is not in my best interests to do that but then I’d have to kill you.”

  I smiled.

  He smiled.

  And then we lapsed into silence as we jockeyed for a new position, a new strategy to get what we wanted from the other. He had the unfair advantage because I didn’t know what I wanted from Daniel Razor anymore.

  “There something you need to understand,” he began. “I didn’t like Alexandra. I didn’t like the way she treated Joel. The way she spoke to him—she spoke to me the same way but I was angry enough and tough enough to deal with her. But Joel was only five and couldn’t defend himself. She was critical and cruel.”

  “What does that have to do with my journal?”

  “Not your journal, but what you wrote about that night.” He set his knife and fork down and looked me in the eye. “You were not the only one. There was a girl four years ago. We were just messing around, the three of us and then I left them alone in the loft—I don’t remember why. What happened was my fault. I was always pushing the boundaries, going to extremes sexually and physically and I always told Joel everything. My brother is a literal guy. Maybe I wanted him to feel in control. We had got into a habit of sharing a girl. On this night, after I left the room ... I was in my room when I heard her screaming.”

  The dinner, my dress, the Victorian opulence of the mansion and secrets about to be revealed were suddenly disgusting. I tasted copper in my mouth. Two rich orphan brothers with a predilection for three-ways with unsuspecting girls. I was in love with one and I was carrying the child of the other. Whatever Daniel told me tonight, instinct informed me it wasn’t in my best interest to hear. I would become an accessory after the fact, colluding with the man I loved to protect the brother he loved.

  “When I reached Joel’s bedroom, the girl was naked on the bed and my brother was on top of her. What he was doing was not consensual. It was my fault that it happened. Joel was only doing what he thought I’d do with a girl who said no. He doesn’t get nuance and subtlety. I pulled him off, helped the girl to the bathroom and when she had calmed down ... I talked money. I paid her to not press charges and to never tell anyone what happened. She took the deal but she’s still out there and every day I’m aware it could blow up in our faces. These things usually do.”

  “That is your chief concern? Jesus. You really are an amoral shit.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it? You’re the only one I can trust with that story and I can’t trust you at all. No cell phones, no recording devices. No one said anything about diaries. I need the journal, Charlotte. One girl is a mistake, two girls is a criminal investigation. Joel can’t go to prison.”

  “So that’s what you’ve been worrying about with me all this time. That’s why you asked me to stay here, to keep tabs on me. You thought I would press charges or exhort money out of you by threatening to go to the media. Stupid man. If I was going to do that, I would have done it before I lost my place with the conservatory! And if I was going to press criminal charges, I would have done so immediately and nothing you offered would have changed my mind. But I didn’t do either of those things because I knew something was wrong. I like Joel and I know he likes me. He wouldn’t hurt me or anyone. That guy wasn’t Joel. Something changed him. You don’t need my journal to realize I’m not going to charge your brother with rape. I’m telling you I won’t.”

  “How can I be sure you won’t change your mind a month from now?”

  I was about to tell him why and then stopped myself. If something happed to Joel and the baby was the only link Daniel had to his brother, would he let me keep it? Or would he line up his team of lawyers to take custody. What chance would I have against Daniel and Anastasia and their money?

  �
��I want to find your brother,” I said. “So I can help him. If there’s a chance for us after this is all over ... if he still wants to be with me ... I want that too.”

  He looked ... I don’t know ... unhappy? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part. Did I really mean what I said or was I trying to get a reaction out of him—a declaration. He hadn’t mentioned Anastasia and how she felt about this skeleton in Razor’s closet.

  “Did Anastasia know what happened with Joel and the girl?” I was curious how far the sweet, philanthropic Redman had to stretch her scruples to be with the nasty, three-way Razor.

  He cleared his throat. “The girl was Anastasia’s best friend. Tash convinced her to take my offer.”

  Ah. The penny drops. My stomach didn’t like it. “It’s beginning to make sense to me now ... this hold Anastasia has over you.”

  “She’s been a good friend and she’s loyal. She loves me.”

  She loved him. Why did hearing those words make me want to hurt her?

  I rose from my chair and walked the length of the table to Daniel’s side. I felt reckless and mean, unhinged by the total derailment of my dream. I wanted to destroy something—why not Anastasia’s future? Revenge would make sense but this wasn’t revenge. I was getting even but it wasn’t with Anastasia Redman.

  I stood at Daniel’s arm and smoothed his hair from his brow. His eyes were dark and troubled. “What are you doing?”

  I pressed my finger to my lips and indicated the walls, behind which were a labyrinth of passageways and secret doors. I took his hand and led him from the dining room to the library where the fire was still blazing and then I closed the door behind us.

  We looked at each other for a long moment as if deciding. I’m sure he felt as mean and frustrated as I did by where we were and who we were. But neither of us was going to pull back and return to our corners.