Saint or Sinner

by Jolie Day

  Chapter 6

  For the first time since Mira could remember, she and Russell were in agreement. “This really is the most idiotic plan I have ever heard,” he said as he poured himself a whiskey. American whiskey, of course. Mira watched him as he did it and tried to look at her brother-in-law, just this once, without the feeling of disgust that had been building up over the years. Just like his belly, thought Mira and she was shocked by the intensity of her resentment towards him.

  It took everything in her to spend longer periods of time in the same room as him without running out screaming.

  At first, it had been the instinctive mistrust of a young child towards a man who had taken over the role of her dad within the family. Back then, Russell had been her father’s right hand and he had married Suzanne as soon as she had turned eighteen, which hadn’t even been half a year after their father’s death. Over the years, one thing became more and more apparent to Mira: He had married Suzanne for one reason only — to secure her shares in the company for himself.

  He had immediately shipped Mira off to boarding school, in a different country no less, declared their mother unfit, and by then, Suzanne was already under his spell. Sure, Suzanne had had her own office at Dumont Ltd and she formally made some of the decisions, but the truth was that Russell had taken over and was now the driving force in the company.

  However, Mira had to admit that he had done a great job in rebuilding Dumont Ltd after the crash and almost had it back to its former glory. She, her mother, and Suzanne had never had to miss out on anything and had lived a very wealthy lifestyle. So, why was she still consumed by resentment whenever she thought about Russell? Possibly because he had a very cocky personality, and maybe because of the way he portrayed himself as a generous modern man who allowed his wife to make the odd decision in his company. Mira drank her tea and watched him carefully. If Connor and Russell had been the last men on earth, she would choose Connor over him, which was very surprising. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t actively choose Connor, but she would definitely decide against Russell. “I don’t like to say it…” he continued with his litany and looked at his wife, “…but she is right.” He nodded towards Mira without looking at her. “This is a freakin’ stupid plan, baby. There is no way that this could work.” Not surprisingly, he had turned all businesslike with Suzanne and now judged her idea on its chances of success and not on their moral dubiousness.

  “Look, even your husband agrees with me. Just the fact that we agree on something should make you think twice.” Her attempt to add some lightness and comedy to this conversation evaporated unheard. “We should let the lawyers do their job. Maybe we can even try to get them to resume the case.”

  “You can forget about that,” Russell said loudly and attempted a laugh. “Carmichael was released. There will never be a second trial for the same charge.” Mira rolled her eyes. She knew that herself, but she had still hoped to distract her sister with this possibility, even though it was impossible. “Why are you all of a sudden so hellbent on putting him behind bars? You didn’t seem to care all these years,” asked Russell, as he turned to Suzanne.

  “I had pulled myself together for our family and for our company,” Suzanne said quietly. “It’s not like I didn’t care. I have never forgotten what he did.” She gave her husband a weird look. A look that Mira did not understand. Was there something going on between the two of them? It almost seemed as if Russell was losing his status of inviolability in Suzanne’s eyes. In principle, Mira liked this little flame of resistance in her sister’s heart, but why had Suzanne found out now that her husband wasn’t actually all he was cracked up to be?

  “I have to say that you really do surprise me,” Russell said with a bleak look on his face as he turned to fill his glass once more. He had never been a skinny man, but now his waist seemed to grow with every birthday. Back in the day, he had at least looked like a heavyweight champion boxer — an aggressive bull packed with muscles, who would take on anybody without flinching an eyelid. These days, he had calmed down a lot and had significantly fewer violent outbursts. He had to, because of his high blood pressure, which more often than not painted his face bright red. However, that could also be because of his drinking. He was lost in thought as he ran his finger across the ledge of the sideboard, which he then held up against his face, staring at the dust on his fingertip.

  “How often have I told you to be tougher with the maids?” Suzanne’s head seemed to disappear between her shoulders and when Mira saw her sister like that, she became so enraged that she had to turn her head. She stared at random things throughout the living room, which had lost almost all resemblance to the room it had been when they were growing up. The comfortable brown leather sofa had been replaced by a strange object made of steel and a white synthetic cloth. Instead of the Italian landscapes, which had been heirlooms belonging to Francesca Dumont herself, the walls were now painted white with grey colored blobs that had presumably been extremely expensive.

  Was all this according to Russell’s taste? Or had her sister changed this room so much, to escape the memories?

  Mira didn’t even want to know how the other rooms in the house looked now, and she was secretly very happy that she had booked a suite in the Hyborn hotel.

  “In any case, I don’t think that you should worry your beautiful heads about Carmichael. Leave it to me. Or rather, we shall leave it to the lawyers.” As far as Mira could see, Russell had spoken his last words on the matter. Even her sister had seemingly come to the conclusion that her plan had been completely dismissed, so she changed the subject.

  “What is happening with the benefit gala on Saturday?,” she asked. Russell’s face lit up. “What do you mean? Everything is taken care of. We will obviously be attending as guests of honor.”

  “Yes, I know that. I meant, did you ask Luke if he is coming with us?” Suzanne looked straight at her husband. “Please tell me you haven’t forgotten to ask him. It’s only two days until then and I have told you a hundred times that you have to invite him.”

  Russell pulled out his cellphone and clicked a few buttons on the screen, before holding it to his ear. Then he left the room and went out to the terrace, where he closed the doors behind him. Mira saw him light up a cigarette and then watched the way he talked — walking and with his arms waving.

  “I think, I should go,” Mira said and then got up. For today, she had had enough of her family. First the heated discussion with her sister about her ridiculous plan, then another visit with her mother, and now she had even had to spend time with her brother-in-law. If it had been up to her, this would last only a few weeks, maybe even months.

  “Oh no. I won’t let you leave that easily.” Her sister sounded agitated, but like a little kid. “This phone call…” she nodded towards Russell outside, “…is about you.” Mira now followed her sister’s look out to her husband and she had a bad feeling about what was going on.

  “Please tell me you are not trying to hook me up with a guy! Who is this Luke?”

  “Oh, come on.” Suzanne implored her. “Think about our plan. I don’t want to hook you up with a guy, don’t you worry. I just think that it would benefit both of you. He has nobody to go with and you will be alone too. So, why not go together?” She shrugged. “And I don’t care what Russell says. If he is not on our side, then we will simply do it on our own. Just like in the old days — you and me.”

  Unfortunately, this wasn’t the whole truth. Back then, we still had mom and dad. “I don’t really understand what this has to do with your… with our plan?” Mira waited for Suzanne to explain.

  “I will simply send Connor an invitation.” Her sister spoke these words, as if this was the most normal thing to say.

  “Oh, sure and Mr. Carmichael has nothing better to do, than to accept an invitation from the woman whose father he killed seventeen years ago.” She struggled to hold back the sarcasm in her voice. She saw that her sister’s eyes had started to fill with tears and
she quickly took her hands into hers. “You didn’t see him, and you didn’t speak to him,” Mira repeated for the hundredth time. “He…” How was she supposed to describe this man who had completely lost his lightheartedness, to her sister?

  “Don’t be silly,” Suzanne interrupted her. “I won’t write my own name on the invitation. Russell is the guest of honor and has a table for up to six people, which means that Connor can bring someone too and feel safe. He will think: What can possibly happen to me in public, and that is when we will catch him. I will make sure that he sits next to you. Or would you prefer to sit opposite him, so you can put your gorgeous brown fawn eyes to good use?”

  “I don’t have fawn eyes,” Mira complained in an exasperated tone. “And to get back to my original question: What exactly are you planning on writing to him?”

  Her sister smiled with tight lips and she pulled a folded piece of paper out of her handbag, which was on the coffee table next to her. She handed it over to Mira. It wasn’t a piece of paper, but an invitation to the benefit gala, and it had Connor’s name on it. Mira unfolded the strong card and read:

  I know what happened 17 years ago.

  Meet me at 9:30 pm in the coatroom,

  if you don’t want me to share my

  knowledge with the police.

  “This is the biggest load of crap that you have ever come up with,” exclaimed Mira and she didn’t even try to hide her obvious doubts regarding this so-called “secret” message. “Connor will immediately know that it was you who wrote this.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” replied Suzanne, who still had that smug grin on her face. “The main thing is for him to get curious enough to actually show up. That is all I want. Once he is there, everything else will be in your hands, sis.”

  “If I agree to do this, then it is only to save your sorry ass from going under,” Mira said and nodded towards her brother-in-law, who was on his way back towards them.

  “Duly noted,” her sister replied and stood up to walk towards her husband, who now walked back inside. “And? What did Luke say? Will he go with Mira to the event?”

  “Of course, he will. He wanted me to let you know that he is very much looking forward to meeting you.” Mira wondered what Russell had told this Luke person about her and she had a strong suspicion that he had very much exaggerated about her exterior. The curvy redhead that she was, she had met plenty of men in her life, who strongly believed in the wild and passionate redhead-myth. She forced herself to smile. “Alright. Then we will see each other no later than Saturday,” she said and turned to leave.

  “Luke will pick you up at five at the Hyborn,” Russell explained and picked up the remote control. Seconds later, the voice of a reporter blared out of the TV, on which some football game was showing.

  “I will walk you outside,” Suzanne said — more to her husband than to her sister.

  “Look after yourself.” She gave Mira a kiss on both of her cheeks before she could disappear into the rental car. “And leave the rest to me. We will see each other tomorrow at eleven.”

  Mira started her car and wondered to herself what kind of situation she had gotten herself into. Right now, it seemed like a much better idea to just leave L.A. behind and disappear back to London.

  Chapter 7

  Luke Bishop was roughly the same age as her brother-in-law, but that was where their similarities ended. Mira was extremely relieved when she saw the man who would accompany her to the benefit gala for the American Hospice Foundation, because he was of an entirely different caliber. The very first thing he did after the rather pleasant introduction (not a sleazy one, as Mira had expected), surprised her, and immediately won her over.

  “I am aware that your mother is dying and that today is probably going to feature a lot of well-meant talks and speeches about death. Should you feel that you would like to go somewhere else for a while, just to escape the morbidity of it, then I am your man.” He wiped a dark strand of hair out of his face. It was a simple gesture and yet one that would have seemed finicky and cocky on any other man. Luke Bishop, however, didn’t seem to know just how handsome he actually was. From his dark, slightly messy hair, to his broad shoulders and long legs, he was an absolute dream of a man. His slightly silver-colored temple and fine laughter lines seemed to keep him from actually being a male model, even though he probably looked amazing even in shorts.

  “That is very kind of you,” Mira replied gently and noticed how her heart started to vibrate because of him. He was the first man, no… the first person, who did not expect anything from her, since she had returned to her old hometown. When she told him this, his striking face darkened. “I am sorry to hear that. I did not mean to open up old wounds. I can only imagine that everyone means well and that they simply forget that you are a grown woman.”

  “You may call me Mira. That makes things much easier,” she suggested spontaneously, which surprised even her. His amused grin grew wider.

  “Luke,” he replied before kissing her gently on each of her cheeks. “I guess, you knew that already.” She inhaled the scent of an expensive aftershave that hovered between them. “I think we should make a move or we might actually get there late. The traffic in L.A. is horrible, but I assume that you know that too.”

  Mira grabbed her favorite scarf and her small black purse and turned around in a circle. “Will you take me with you like this?” Was she flirting with Luke? Her sister would love this, but she herself was a little embarrassed for a moment. It wasn’t just the fact that her mother was dying and that it was actually her task to go there and throw herself at Connor — no. It had only been a few days since she and her long-term boyfriend had broken things off and here she was, acting like a hormonal teenager.

  “Anytime,” Luke said quickly, but his eyes told a much deeper story and one that would make her blush if she knew what it was. “Did I say something wrong?” He had immediately noticed that her mood had changed slightly. Any woman who didn’t like Luke Bishop, must either be blind or stupid and Mira was neither. It was obvious that she wasn’t blind. However, when it came to being stupid… that was an entirely different ballgame and she would know by the end of tonight if she (and Suzanne, of course) had completely overestimated her intelligence. Mira didn’t expect much to begin with. Even if she managed to talk to Connor, there was still a long road ahead if she was to earn his trust.

  “N-No. Everything is okay,” replied Mira after a short pause and shook her head. “I am…”

  “Shh,” Luke said as he came to a stop in front of the lift doors. He turned around to her and put his finger on her lips. “No explanations. After all, we were both kind of coaxed into this situation, I am pretty sure of it. Let’s just enjoy this evening together, shall we? We will eat delicious food, drink good wine, and maybe we will even dance together.” His cool finger rested on her lips just a second too long for it to have been an innocent gesture, but Mira was starting to like the silent tingling that Luke’s touch had caused in her. She also liked his dark green eyes, which kept looking at her calmly, or simply the way he walked across the red carpet so confidently, without showing off his best side to the reporters. “Mr. Bishop, how about a picture of you and your guest? What is her name?” The very brazen reporter leaned far across the barrier and held his camera towards them. The telescopic lens drove in and out in a disgustingly suggestive manner. Mira noticed that the guy had greasy hair and was openly staring at her cleavage. She could sense that Luke was about to make a move and she held him back.

  “Don’t,” she whispered and hung on his arm. “He ain’t worth it. Let’s just go inside.” Luke turned abruptly, and the reporter had to be content with looking at their backs.

  “Thank you,” Luke said and then he put his arm around Mira’s waist. It felt great. Not too close, but close enough to let her know that he liked her next to him.

  “My pleasure,” she answered and allowed Luke to press her closer against him. He led her to the checkroom, helped
her out of her coat, and was ready to also take the scarf, but Mira shook her head. “I will keep this so that I won’t feel so naked,” she said, referring to her rather short dress with its risqué neckline.

  Had she just seen Connor’s blonde mane near the entrance to the dining hall? The color of his hair had always been somewhat special — a very light blonde without the usual yellow tint or the slipping off into a mouse grey that could be seen so often. His hair was so light colored that any possible silver hairs would probably only become apparent at a very old age. Since all of the men wore tuxedos, she had not been able to distinguish him from others simply by his clothing. Luke and Mira moved onwards. The man she thought was Connor still had his back to her, but he had now come to a stop to talk to a woman. When he finally turned around, Mira was able to catch a glimpse of his profile.

  She would have recognized him anywhere. The play of light and shade on his face, the striking nose with its unmistakable curve which almost resembled the beak of a raptor, and especially his distinctive, imperious chin, which seemed to tighten slightly with hidden anger. He had a face that had been burned into her memory forever. How had she ever imagined that she would be able to forget his features?

  She automatically leaned closer to Luke, more than was necessary, and almost tried to hide behind him. Unsuccessfully. Connor had seen her immediately, which became very obvious by his now pale face and his tightly pressed lips. The woman, whom Mira assumed was his companion for the night, said something to him, but he did not answer her. His eyes had taken on a very particular shade hovering between blue and gray, which reminded Mira of cold icebergs. She found it difficult to take her eyes off him. Her heart beat so fast that it felt as if it wanted to burst in her chest, and all the loud voices around her disappeared into a ghostlike background noise. Only when Luke had lead her past Connor and the woman into the dining hall, was Mira able to breathe again.