by Grady, D. R.
When she sailed through the door, her eyes flashing militantly, he received a well placed punch for his efforts.
“Stef just called.” Mallen watched her closely. Giselle’s face blanked.
“And?” Her question came out as a monotone. Interesting.
“He’s having a party Tuesday night. We’re invited.”
If he hadn’t been watching her, waiting for a response, he’d have missed the swallow and quick negative jerk of her head.
“Of course, we’ll need to attend.” Her stiff words matched the tense line of her body.
“Most likely,” he agreed. “I doubt he’ll say much about Celeste, however.”
“I see,” was all she said. He received the impression she had no intention of saying anything else, either. She stood and with back rigid, left the room.
Very curious. They needed to attend Stefen’s party. If only to seal Giselle’s future. Perhaps he could discuss this with Julia. As a woman, she would know how to address Giselle’s emotional needs. Besides, Giselle, for all of their closeness, was unlikely to tell him any of her feelings. He and Stefen were too close.
With a grin he realized this was yet another excuse to go see Julia.
He began whistling as he left his office.
***
His special phone rang. Only select members of his other business knew this number. George didn’t want to speak to anyone from that organization. However, not answering the call could prove far worse than accepting the summons.
Reluctantly, he paused in his plans to find Julia, a process that was frustrating and infuriating him. The slut seemed to have fallen off the earth. He answered the phone, hating the whole world.
“Chalmers.”
“Ah, George A. Chalmers III, the man of the hour,” came the sardonic reply.
George gritted his teeth. How he hated this man. Unfortunately, the jerk held power unlike many in this undisclosed business, and he couldn’t afford to let his dislike show.
“What do you want?” George asked, not impolitely, but bordering on the sentiment.
“Such insolence in your voice, Chalmers, one would think you’d just killed your mother or something.”
“Shut up, Johnson and tell me why you called,” he bit out. Fear clenched his gut because the big guy, their top boss, did not like his employees to call attention to themselves. The boss must know George was now a wanted man. That meant he had not maintained a low profile.
“The only reason the boss is giving you another chance is because you’re available right now. And the boss has a job for you.” The man’s snicker made his gut roil.
“I’m involved in some private business at the moment. I don’t have time to do a job.” His hatred for this man bubbled in his blood as he clenched his fists. Maybe he would kill Johnson too. After his slut ex-girlfriend.
“This isn’t on a preference basis, pal. The job is yours regardless of what you’re doing. Your girlfriend will have to wait. And your dear Mama’s gone, by your very own hand, nonetheless. You’re about as evil as they come, aren’t you, Georgie Boy?”
“Get to the point, Johnson,” he instructed tersely. He hadn’t figured his own ‘business’ would make any difference, but he had to make the attempt to decline the offer.
“Simon Malcolm, an associate of yours,” the man began, sickeningly sweet.
“I know Malcolm.” He brusquely cut the story short.
“He’s got the goods on a big shipment of the fancy stuff. The man wants that shipment. It’s worth eight, nine figures.”
George perked up. “Yeah?” His heart beat faster. Maybe this was the job for him.
“Malcolm’s languishing in some prison over in France or Siberia,” the man stopped talking abruptly and George heard paper rustling. “Sandovia, actually. He killed some people, too, you see, and now is neutralized,” Johnson taunted.
“Neutralized” meant the company wouldn’t interfere with his sentence, or remove him from his punishment. Nor would they kill him, either. He just ceased to exist as far as the organization was now concerned. The Organization had created a fear of talking such that some of the operatives probably felt safer in prison than out anyhow.
“But he’s got the information on the next shipment, and the big guy wants it.”
“That’s right, Georgie boy, the big guy does want that shipment, and your new job is to go find out all the little details from our former buddy Malcolm.”
“How am I supposed to get him out of this prison?” he asked through gritted teeth. This man was definitely next on his list. The killing would be such a pleasure, unlike the other man he had killed. To hear Johnson’s pleas for mercy would be as sweet as his mother’s had been, and his slut ex-girlfriend’s would be. Whenever he found the whore, which now would have to be after this stupid job.
“That’s your problem, Georgie, you’re the big lawyer. Oh yeah, I guess not now, eh?” The man laughed, taking joy in George’s recklessness. He suppressed the urge to hit someone. “Oh, yeah, the boss doesn’t want Malcolm out of jail, just the info.”
“And when I get to this Sandovia, I’m supposed to figure this entire scenario out?”
“Sure, Georgie Boy, you used to be smart. Your pay will be deposited in your foreign account upon successful completion of the job, as usual.”
“Fine,” George bit out. He needed that money.
“Oh, and Chalmers?” Johnson’s voice lost its taunting quality and turned deadly instead. It reminded him that Johnson rose to the exalted rank he held in the Organization by ruthlessness and cunning. It would pay him to remember that.
“What?” he asked, a lump the size of a soft ball in his throat.
“When you joined our organization, just like Malcolm and everyone else, you were fitted with a GPS locator. Remember?”
Nausea washed through him as he closed his eyes. The lure of money had been too good to resist that device. Now he cursed its existence. “Of course.” The Organization always knew where he was. Not because they cared for his safety, but to ensure they received the goods entrusted to him.
“You don’t know where that device is, but we know where you are at all times. Screw this assignment up, and we’ll find you. If we’re feeling nice, we’ll let the police have you.”
“And if you’re not nice?” He had to know. They’d never gotten into these details before.
“What’s that word the big guy likes to use? Expendable, that’s right. Then you’re expendable.”
George swallowed the knot in his throat. Not that it helped.
Johnson’s laugh was nothing short of evil. “I think that’s a fancy word for disposable. Have a nice day, Georgie Boy.”
Chapter 13
Strolling down the hall toward the kitchens, Mallen wondered if Julia still had flour on her nose. He grinned at the thought. He hoped so. She was cute anyway, but there was something about a woman dusted in flour, smelling of baked goods, that turned a man’s thoughts to mush.
As soon as he pushed open the door the scent of cranberry scones and sugar cookies assaulted him. He took a moment to breathe in the intoxicating scents before crossing the room to resume his seat at the counter.
He had a scone in his mouth before Julia noticed him. Mallen guessed he startled her, since she yelped and threw her spatula at him. He ducked, then thought he better retrieve the utensil, and reached out as the plastic object whizzed past his head. As his hand closed around the handle, he watched her lean against the counter, a hand pressed to her chest.
“Where did you come from?” she asked weakly, although he detected some spirit in there.
“Lila Saltaire, thirty four years ago, next week.”
“Ha ha,” she muttered through panted breaths, “next week?” Julia must have listened to what he said, even though he frightened her.
“November fifteenth.”
“You’re going to be the birthday boy next week.” A purely evil grin crossed her face and Mallen wondered if he
should regret telling her. Nah. He could take whatever this minx thought up.
He cleared his throat. “I, uummm, have a favor to ask.”
Her left brow rose and she cleared the space separating them, pulling up a stool so she could sit across the counter from him. “Spill it.”
“I just got off the phone with a very good friend,” he started and then stopped to ask, “How well do you know my sister Celeste’s story?”
“Not very, why?”
“I’ll start there then. My sister Celeste was one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. She was very kind. Always doing something for others.” As he spoke, Mallen realized another reason why Giselle hadn’t done anything about Celeste and Stefen’s subsequent engagement. Celeste and Giselle had been very close, and Celeste was too sweet for Giselle to hurt by causing a fuss.
“Before he died, my father made an announcement that Stefen Bannette had asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Stef heads Bannette Holdings, our wealthiest company, and a major source of income for this country. They actually have quite a name across Europe, not just Sandovia. They are also gaining recognition in the Americas, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.”
“So this engagement was a big deal for your family?”
“Yes. The Bannette family are longtime friends. Stef and I grew up together. He’s one of my closest friends. Although we lost touch this past year.” Mallen winced at that fact.
“And he became engaged to Celeste?”
“That’s what we thought. When Dad made the announcement, Giselle and I had no idea he intended for me to rule in his place, and never figured he thought of us as his first borns, if you will. It was just naturally assumed that Celeste, as his true flesh and blood would be his heir and the woman betrothed to Stefen. So, when Simon Malcolm shoved Celeste from the tower,” Mallen stopped and swallowed. He sucked in a deep breath before he could continue the story. Julia covered his hand with hers.
He read sympathy and concern in her eyes and was touched by her gesture. He turned his hand up so they held hands and gave hers a little squeeze in silent thanks. “The reason Malcolm killed Celeste was because she told him she was already engaged and hadn’t purposefully tried to encourage a relationship with him. And she hadn’t, she was nice to him because that was Celeste.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”
He sighed and nodded. “I, of course, sent Stefen a note explaining that my sister had been killed. I also called his home. He had been out of town, in America, so he missed the funeral. I never used Celeste’s name, apparently, so he’s been grieving for a year now.”
Mallen shook his head. “When he called, one of his first questions was to inquire after Celeste.”
“Oh my.” She squeezed his hand.
“Right. He thought Giselle died because that’s who he was betrothed to.”
“Oh no.”
“Stef had me check Dad’s records, and there is a file in his computer that states the marriage contract.” He looked at Julia to see if she understood so far and she nodded. “Giselle’s name is clearly marked in that file and on the marriage decree. Celeste’s name is not.”
“Was Stefen upset?”
“No. More like disappointed, but hopeful, and happier than he’s been this past year. Now that he knows Giselle is very much alive, he still wants her.”
“How long before this happens?”
“We have all been invited to Stef’s house Tuesday evening for a party. That’s why he called. He will speak to her then.”
“He plans to announce their engagement Tuesday night?”
Mallen grinned. “He wanted to, but I told him I needed to be certain Giselle was agreeable. This has come as a surprise to me.”
“Is this where I come in?”
“You are smart,” he teased, flicking her nose.
She laughed. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
“I’m wondering if you need to take that last batch of scones out of the oven?”
“Aaahhh!” Her eyes widened and she swerved off the stool, snatched up some pot holders and quickly removed the tray of pastries. “Good catch.”
He shrugged off her praise. “I like cranberry scones.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.” But a smile formed on her lips.
Mallen helped himself to another of the nearly cooled scones and watched her. He enjoyed her brisk, efficient movements. So far, he hadn’t seen her move in a way that wasn’t sexy.
Once she finished with the scones, she returned to her seat, and propped her chin on a hand. “What did you want me to do about Giselle?”
He pursed his lips, his mind churning in several directions at once. He chose one pathway and scanned the possibilities before moving on. “Obviously, you’ll need to determine the best course on how to do this, but what I’m concerned about is one main topic.”
“And that is?”
“Stef claims Giselle loves him as he loves her. I hadn’t heard that, and despite his statements and Dad’s file, I still need to make certain of her true feelings.” Mallen shook his head. “I’m not going to allow the marriage unless this is what she wants. If she loves him, they have my blessing tenfold. If she doesn’t love him, the contract is null and void.”
“You want me to determine whether she loves him?”
“Please. I don’t want this to be obvious. I only need to know how she feels about Stef.”
“I have some suggestions.”
“You’re impressive, Dr. McNeal. Brainy, beautiful, creative, and you can bake.”
Julia raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to hear my suggestions?”
“Of course.”
“First off, if I can get her alone, and if the opportunity arises, I’ll ask her if she’s ever been in love.”
“That’s good.”
“Acceptable. Except there are quite a few ifs in there, so we need a Plan B.”
Mallen thought it over. “I agree.”
She cocked her head at him. “This may be easier than you think.”
“How do you figure?”
“Your father most likely felt the same way you do. I doubt he’d have given his blessing without first knowing Giselle’s feelings. Is he likely to have personal notes on his computer?”
He nodded. “Yes, and they’re sizeable in number.”
“I suggest we start there, then. If your father knew about Giselle’s feelings, how likely is your mother to know?”
“I’d say ninety-eight percent likely. They didn’t keep things from each other.”
She smiled. “That’s how a marriage should be.”
Mallen darted a quick look at her. Happy and relieved to see she was completely serious. He also felt marriage should be a partnership. He had no doubts his parents had enjoyed that type of union.
“I agree.”
Julia smiled at him. “Good. Once we see your father’s notes we can find your mother.”
“Let’s go.”
“Mallen?”
“Hhhmmm?”
She waved in the direction of the piled countertops. “I have a huge mess here to clean up.”
“Right.” He rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll help.”
“You can wash,” she offered with a cheeky grin.
He splashed her with some of the water he’d just run into the sink.
“Here’s the file.” Mallen pointed to the screen as he opened the information.
Julia leaned forward and watched as he negotiated through the lists of files. She noticed he clicked on one that said, “Stefen/Giselle” and they both saw the folder entitled “notes” at the same time.
“That’s it.” She clapped her hands as he double-clicked on the option.
There were only three lines in the file, but they told an incredible story.
Finally managed to convince Giselle to admit she loves Stefen Bannette. Bannette wants marriage, only thing I’ll allow, so made up marriage contract. Tell Lila.
Julia
swallowed. “Uh oh, we could have a problem.”
“Yeah, what if he didn’t tell Mom?”
“Wait, your dad announced the engagement, so he’d have to have told your mom before then, right?”
“Maybe. There wasn’t much time in between him announcing the betrothal and his death. Celeste died within a few weeks of Dad.” He ran a hand through his hair, his amber-green eyes troubled.
“You not only had an engagement, but then two deaths nearly on top of each other. I think that’s enough to think about.”
“Yes,” Mallen agreed quietly. “Let’s check the rest of the files.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
They found the marriage contract and a few notes neither of them understood before coming to the end. They stared at each other, both hesitant to take so little information to Lila.
“What if she tells us we’re crazy and sends us off to do something productive?” Julia chewed on her lip.
“Don’t do that.” Mallen tugged her lip gently away from her teeth.
“Do what?”
“Bite your lip.” His thumb played briefly over her self-abused flesh.
She smiled at him. “I’ll try.”
“That’s good enough, for now,” he replied, and she sincerely hoped the for now part meant he had plans for her tender lips. Oh, chickie, don’t go there.
She nodded, hoping her eyes hadn’t glazed over with lust.
He leaned back in his seat, and stared at the computer screen. “I’d hoped Dad would have left us more information about Giselle and Stefen.” His sigh sounded loud in the office.
“Well, he did leave us something, although not much. We’ve at least got enough to go to your mom and pump her for more info.”
“Right, and she’s likely to give us that information,” Mallen made the prospects sound bleak. “She believes in confidentiality.”
“Okay, we need to remain optimistic. Giselle is her daughter, and your mom will want what’s best for her. I think we need to approach her in that manner. That we need her help in discovering Gissy’s true feelings so you can make a learned decision about this marriage contract.”
“You’re absolutely correct. Let’s call Mom in here and show her what we’ve found.” He leaned forward to do so.
