Sacrifice

by Alexandrea Weis

  I felt my insides seethe. To be so nonchalant about winning a woman in a card game made the man appear more revolting to me than ever before.

  “Do you feel all women are a commodity to be traded away on a whim?” I asked, raising my flute to my lips.

  Greg looked at me and frowned. “Hardly. The man I won the girl from was a common thug and the few minutes I watched him beating her convinced me that the girl needed rescuing.”

  “And who will you give the girl to when you’re finished with her?”

  “Jenny Ryan is free to leave me whenever she likes. She has a job; one that I got her, with a local art gallery. She does pretty well without any assistance from me. Not bad for a run away from Hackensack.” He took a sip from his champagne. “But who could compare the infantile twatter of that New Jersey throwback to you.” He waved a hand at me. “You’re eloquent, poised and—”

  “I’m the real Jenny and not a Jersey knock off,” I interrupted.

  His face fell slightly. I could immediately detect the hint of irritation in his eyes. “So you have discovered my weakness.”

  “I would be a fool not to see the resemblance between Ms. Ryan and myself. And I was told you have an affinity for all things Jenny.”

  He leaned in closer to me. “What else did Simon tell you about me?”

  “That I was not to trust you,” I answered with a grin.

  Greg snorted with displeasure. “Simon is the one you shouldn’t be trusting, Nicci. I used to work for Simon many years ago, before your Mr. Alexander started up in the ranks. Then I left and opened my own organization with the generous backing of several of his prized clients.”

  “I heard about that too.”

  He looked surprised. “From Simon?”

  I shook my head slightly. “From Dallas August.”

  “I thought you two had parted company?”

  “We have. But he heard about our being seen together and felt he should warn me about you. Dallas always was the overprotective type.”

  He put his drink down on a nearby table. “You know Simon wasn’t happy about losing his best man to you, Nicci. When Dallas packed up and left his camp, well, quite of a few of us Simon haters secretly applauded you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” I smiled and took another sip from my champagne.

  Greg escorted me around the main gallery on the first floor, introducing me to friends and associates along the way. He made a point of leaning over to whisper interesting tidbits about each of his guests in my ear. I noticed some familiar faces around the room watching our movements and whispering among themselves. By morning, I figured well over half of the New Orleans social set would have heard of my date with Gregory Caston.

  After an hour of socializing with his guests, a petite brunette came up to Greg’s side and whispered in his ear. The girl then promptly turned from him and disappeared into the crowd.

  “If you will excuse me,” Greg turned to me and I could see the pained expression of frustration in his eyes. “I have a small matter to attend to in my office. I promise I won’t be long. Amuse yourself with the paintings and the guests while I am gone.”

  I smiled warmly for him. “It’s quite all right, Greg.”

  He gave me one last glance and hastily walked away. When he came to the edge of the gallery floor, I eagerly watched as he disappeared behind a door marked “no admittance.”

  “I see you’re making headway with Caston,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  I turned to see Dallas staring at me.

  I nodded my head to him and smiled. “How did you get past security?”

  “Not a problem if you know how to blend in,” he replied. “You two seem to be getting quite cozy.”

  I rubbed my hands together as I took in the crowd of people milling around us. “As cozy as necessary to keep him interested.”

  Dallas smiled. “Very good, Nicci.” He came closer to my side and whispered, “He has a problem brewing in his office with that girlfriend of his, Ms. Ryan. Someone must have told the girl about your date tonight. Fortunately, one of the attendants out front spotted her at the door and escorted her to a rear entrance.”

  “I wonder who told her about our plans?”

  “I’ll bet Simon did it. Sounds like his kind of dirty work.” Dallas paused as he glanced about the gallery. “Use this as an opportunity to get closer to Caston. Go after him. Tell him his guests were asking about him. Your appearance will undoubtedly make the situation worse,” he reasoned.

  I frowned at him. “And then what?”

  “Be understanding and remain cool with the girl. It will make Caston want to confide in you even more. Later, he may want to talk to you about his troubled relationship.” Dallas stepped back from me. “Agree to go wherever he suggests,” he directed.

  I raised my eyebrows to him. “Wherever he suggests? Are you sure about this?”

  “We need him, Nicci, so play along. Besides, he wants to win you over. He won’t try anything this soon in the game.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I was about to step away when he reached for my hand.

  “And remember, you’re David Alexander’s Jenny. Don’t let Caston ever forget that. The more he thinks you still belong to David, the more he’ll want you.”

  I nodded and turned away. I headed straight for the door marked “no admittance.”

  Once I had left the main gallery floor, I found myself in a dimly lit corridor. From a partially open door at the end of the hallway, I could hear the raised voices of a man and woman. I followed the voices until I stood in front of the slightly ajar office door. I took in a deep breath and gently pushed the door open.

  Jenny Ryan was standing in front of a dark walnut and silver inlay desk. Her eyes widened when I entered the room. Greg had his back to me, but the instant the girl saw me, she lunged for me. Luckily, Greg jumped out in time to keep her from reaching me.

  She struggled against Greg’s grip. “Ya’d better back off, bitch! He’s mine!” Jenny Ryan yelled, baring her sharp white teeth at me.

  “Jenny!” Greg cried out while holding the squirming girl in his arms. “I’m not yours and don’t talk to Nicci that way. She and I are just—”

  “Friends,” I said, finishing the sentence for him. “Nothing more, Ms. Ryan, I assure you. Greg merely offered to take me to his benefit to introduce me to people in the art scene. There can never be anything romantic between us.”

  Greg turned to me and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

  The girl stopped squirming and warily scrutinized my face. Her long auburn hair was tossed about her head, and there were already black circles under her eyes caused from a mix of tears and an overabundance of mascara.

  “Ya expect me to believe ya?” she cried out.

  I smiled for her. “I have no interest in a man in my life. I’m still in love with the artist I buried three years ago. There’s no room in my heart for another.”

  Jenny Ryan ceased her struggling and then Greg let her go. She stood adjusting her green sequined dress and trying to fix her hair. I could tell by the softening of her eyes that she had believed me.

  “I, ah, am real sorry,” she said as she gazed apologetically over at me. “Simon La Roy told me you guys had a date.” She turned to Greg. “What was I supposed to think? Ya never said nothin’ ‘bout bringin’ her here. Ya should have told me ‘bout it.”

  Greg turned away from Jenny Ryan and scowled. “You should never listen to anything Simon La Roy tells you. The man is a notorious liar.” He adjusted his tuxedo jacket around his shoulders. “Jenny, you cannot go off every time I spend an evening with another woman. I have a business to run,” he scolded.

  Jenny Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, well. What ya expect, Gregie?”

  Greg gave Jenny a dirty look and then turned his attention to me. “What are you doing back here, Nicci? I told you to wait for me at the party,” he said angrily.

  I nervously lowered my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry,
Greg, but I came back here to tell you that several guests were asking for you. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just leave you…” I headed for the door.

  “Wait, Nicci. Just give me a moment,” Greg pleaded behind me.

  I stopped at the door and tilted my head slightly to the side, showing him my profile. “You two have things to discuss.” I paused and turned back to Jenny. “Good night, Ms. Ryan,” I said and then quickly slipped out the door.

  When I returned to the party, I headed straight for the bar. I waited as the bartender poured the Dom Perignon Champagne into a tall flute. I picked up my glass and was about to take a sip when I heard a husky voice speak up beside me.

  “You don’t need that.”

  I looked over to see Dallas’s dark blue eyes watching me.

  “How did it go with the girlfriend?” he inquired.

  “You were right. Simon told the girl about my date with Greg.”

  “Probably thought it would help Caston confide in you,” Dallas stated as he reached out and took the drink out of my hand. “If Caston does want to talk to you after the party, try to find out what you can about David’s paintings. Ask him questions about art? That may prompt him to want to brag to you about his collection.”

  “I can do that. I learned enough about art from David to know I won’t sound like a total idiot.”

  “Just keep your eyes open and tell me all about it when you get home. I’ll be around. And heads up, Nicci, the temptress just spotted you,” he added with a cocky grin.

  He walked away from the bar, taking my champagne with him. I sighed with regret at the loss of my sustenance. I noticed a woman coming toward me with intense blue eyes, perfectly coiffed blond hair, and dressed in a shimmering blue gown.

  “Nicci!” Sammy Fallon’s voice reverberated painfully through every bone in my body. I cringed when I saw her expensive veneers looming before me.

  “Hello, Mrs. Fallon,” I said, trying to smile.

  Sammy Fallon was a self-professed icon in the New Orleans social scene. I would have reckoned anything outside of the Garden District to be considered slumming by Sammy. But there she stood in all her resplendent shallowness.

  “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.” She looked about the bar. “Is Dallas here with you? I heard from Val that the two of you are getting married.”

  “Dallas and I are on a break. Tonight, I’m here with Greg Caston.”

  Sammy’s jaw dropped. “Well, that is quite some news.” She laughed her fake sounding laugh. “Be careful with that man, darling. He is known for his, how should I put it…his taste for a wide variety of women.”

  “Greg and I are just friends, Mrs. Fallon. I’m really not interested in a relationship with any man right now.”

  “Understandably so. After three engagements to Michael, David, and just recently Dallas, you must be absolutely exhausted with men.” She inspected my green velvet dress. “I seem to remember you wore that exact same dress the night of Val’s party. You said a lot of hurtful things to me that night, but Val told me later about your hunt for David’s killer and why you had to say the things you did.” She paused as her blue eyes found mine. “But I thought you could have at least called and explained or apologized to me for what you said at the party, Nicci.”

  “Apologized?” I stated, trying to control the surprise in my voice. “Mrs. Fallon, we were hunting for a murderer, not a party crasher.”

  She placed a diamond-clad hand over her heaving bosom. “But what you said, in front of all those people, and the rumors that were started at my expense. I think a formal apology would have been the polite thing to do,” she said, raising her voice.

  “If you hadn’t hired David to try and seduce me so you could destroy my family’s business, I would never had to have gone in search of his murderer in the first place!”

  “How dare you accuse me of such a horrible act!” She put a quivering hand to her Botox engorged face. “How could you say such a thing to me? I have been nothing but kind to you, Nicci Beauvoir!”

  “Kind?” I said raising my voice. “Mrs. Fallon you have been far from kind to me or my family. You have been nothing but one big pain in the—”

  “Ladies, is there a problem?” a deep voice interrupted.

  Greg Caston immediately stepped in between us.

  “Sammy, why don’t you run on back to the Garden District and gossip with those obnoxious friends of yours instead of bothering my guests,” he said in a cold tone.

  Sammy’s blue eyes were wide and wild as they glared at Greg. “I hope she brings you as much misery as she has brought every other man in her life, Greg.” She spun around on her high heels and stormed off.

  Greg laughed as he watched Sammy head for the exit. “Good thing I came along when I did.”

  “I’m sorry about that. Sammy has never been one of my favorite people,” I informed him as I tried to calm my fury.

  He laughed. “If that’s you polite way of saying you don’t like her, I completely understand. Sammy Fallon has always rubbed me the wrong way. Forget about her.” He paused and looked down at the floor for a moment. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on Jenny and me like that. I’m sure Simon told her of our plans tonight to rile her up, knowing she would come here and confront me. He’s a ruthless bastard,” he whispered.

  I immediately fell back into character “It’s my fault. I should never have mentioned our date to him. If I had known he would do something like that…”

  “Not to worry.” A glint of fiery rage flashed across his features. “Simon La Roy will soon learn not to mess with me,” he hissed.

  “That sounds like a threat, Greg.”

  The anger faded and he smiled for me. “The one thing you will learn about me, Nicci, is that I never threaten. I strike back.”

  I felt an unsettling chill rush through me. I turned back to the bar and waited for another glass of champagne. I had a strange feeling I was going to need it before the night was done.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was well after eleven when the crowds inside the gallery started growing thin. Serving staff was clearing away plates and empty glasses from around the gallery while some of the guests were finishing off the last vestiges of champagne at the bar. With one final glance back to his lingering guests, Greg took my hand and led me away from the gallery floor. I followed dutifully behind him as we headed toward the entrance.

  “It seems to have been a successful evening,” I commented as we walked into the cool night air.

  “Yes, very successful. I thought perhaps we could grab a late night dinner at my place,” Greg suggested.

  “Your place?” I probed his dark eyes. “Am I going to have a problem with you?”

  He took a polite step away from me and put his hands behind his back. “Ms. Beauvoir, I promise to be on my best behavior,” he vowed as he waved me down the sidewalk.

  “I guess I’ll have to take your word on that.”

  Greg looked to the street beside us. “I want to apologize again for Jenny Ryan’s behavior tonight. She had no right to come here and start a commotion.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Greg.” I patted his arm reassuringly. “She was just doing what any woman would do; checking up on her man.”

  “But I’m not her man,” he stated emphatically. “She is too possessive and I’ve wanted to end the relationship for a while, but...” He shrugged.

  “Maybe you should buy her a house in East Hampton?” I quipped.

  He smiled and waved his hand in the air. “Jenny Ryan is no prized model. But I cannot have her creating a scene every time I’m out with another woman. Tonight showed me that I must end it for good.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. She seems to really care for you.”

  He stared at me. The intrusion of those disturbing eyes made my skin grow cold.

  “And what you said tonight about still caring for David Alexander. Was that true? Or did you just say that to pacify the girl?”

/>   I slowly let a smile make its way across my face. I pretended to become distracted by the stars up in the sky as I allowed a few dramatic seconds to tick by before I answered him.

  “It’s true. I loved David. No man will ever come close to David.” I wistfully replied.

  “You can’t spend the rest of your life mourning David, Nicci,” he suggested behind me. “You’ll find as you age that true love is a myth believed in only by the young and foolish.”

  I turned away from the night sky and frowned at him “You don’t believe in love?”

  “Hardly. I find money and power to be much more resilient commodities than love. Power lasts a hell of a lot longer and money will always retain its value. No matter how hard you try, love can never last between two people.” He took my hand in his. “Come, I want to show you my place.”

  As we strolled down the sidewalk, a security guard, who had been situated in the front of the gallery earlier in the evening, came around to the side of the building to meet us.

  “Nicci Beauvoir,” Greg said as he waved his hand at the very tall, dark skinned man in front of me. “This is Cleveland. He’s one of my private duty guards.”

  I nodded to the muscular security guard. “Hello, Cleveland.”

  “Pleasure to meet ya, ma’am,” he said in his thick New Orleans accent.

  Cleveland escorted us from the curb to a private rear entrance. He removed a silver chain attached to his belt and slid one small silver key into a lock directly to the right of a glass door in front of us. There was a loud buzz and then the door popped open.

  “Ya’ll have a pleasant evenin’” Cleveland said with a smile.

  I nodded at the guard as I walked through the thick glass door. “Thank you, Cleveland.”

  We stepped into a darkly lit corridor, and at the end of the corridor a pair of silver elevator doors beckoned.

  “Welcome to my home,” Greg stated as he waved me toward the elevator.

  Greg followed me into the elevator and pressed a button on the console. The letter ‘P’ lit up, and I assumed that stood for penthouse.