Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (51 page)

“Are you quite attached to your employer?” he asks his eyes glinting. I turn puce.

“Miss Duncan, I want you to go with Henry so he can acquaint you with your duties tonight,” Alex orders me away
in a detached voice as if I’m one of his minions making me feel chilled to the bone. Yes, I have agreed to work for him, but he’s treating me like a toddler within the first hour of my job. His face is impenetrable and unreadable for me to be able to decipher the intent behind his brusqueness. His earlier possessive touch, and hold and now Alex ordering me away are completely contradicting behaviors coming from the same person, which confuses me. The way he dismisses me makes me flush with embarrassment. In this business environment with buyers around with this Duke here in our presence, Alex is in his boss capacity. Maybe it was a mistake to let our lines get blurred. Sex and work shouldn’t mix. Confusion and hurt washes over me.

“I’m supposed to be working with you tonight… here,” I whisper.

“Go. With. Henry,” he orders again, his words are staccato, forceful, demanding, stinging and to the point.

“Thank you for making that very clear, Mr. Pella,” I whisper.

“
Mademoiselle
Duncan,” says Mr. Courcillion, raising his voice an octave above Alex’s. “You can come and work for me anytime. I would treat you with the respect you deserve,” he says making me flush even more.

“Shut up Duke!” Alex says in a low voice, but with enough force to resonate his animosity towards him. As I quickly walk away, I hear Alex hiss, “When did you finally stop suckling your mommy?”

“Don’t talk to me about that when you are bound by rules as well! I learn from my mistakes. I don’t intend to repeat them again! This is my second chance!” Courcillion says.

“No! You don’t get a second chance.
Because this isn’t about you redeeming yourself, but you think of yourself once again! I don’t forget what’s been done in protection of your name! You’re the last person I trust in this room where some of the past and present friends and foes are gathered. Your help is unwelcome!” I hear the whispered threat. I’m surprised that I can hear whispered words several feet away.

“I’m more than capable of taking over!”

“No!” Alex hisses with chilling finality. “You,” he holds his hand up to the Duke’s shoulder as a seemingly friendly gesture to the casual observer I look back, “You’re unforgiven!”

“For the love of angels, Alex! You need my help! I came prepared...” he says and I can’t hear the rest of the conversation between them.

I turn around and look up at John Henry quizzically. Is it about me? About something else? Someone else? He shrugs his ignorance.

“Who is that man Mr. Henry?”

“John, please,” he corrects me. “He’s a French Duke,” he says evasively.

“I gathered
that just by talking to him.”

“He’s one of our kind. The last time Alex and the Duke were in the same room was a very long time ago. And it didn’t end in friendly terms,” he says taking my arm, and giving my hand a reassuring pat.

“What happened? What are they talking about?”

“Duke’s family hurt someone Alex cared about,” he says his jaw clenched.

“Hurt, how?”

“You don’t need to worry yourself about that. It’s Alex’s personal matter. He doesn’t like to talk about it. It shattered him. He’s not been the same since.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Is it about his family?” I ask. Here I was thinking it was about me, but I forget that Alex has had a family and he had lost and missed a lot in the line of protecting me over the centuries. I feel enormous shame to be the cause of another person’s miseries. That’s probably why he turned icy on me at the last minute. I must have contributed to his misery. In order to protect me, he probably neglected his family and maybe that’s why he doesn’t have someone else in his life. All the more reason for me to set him free. My face softens.

“It’s not my secret to share,” says John effectively closing the topic. I nod.

“Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t work. Put me to work, John. It’s best I earn my keep.”

“Sure. I’m taking you to one of the meeting rooms, so
I can acquaint you with the accounts and the transactions that are about to occur this week. I will assign you to the South American buyers. How’s your Spanish?”

I smile. “We’ll find out.” We enter into the most high tech, well organized room I have ever seen in my life.

“Welcome to the Centurion. The temporary command center of Pella Aerospace and Energy International Incorporated,” John says letting me take in the complexity of the very large room and its contents. It looks ten times more high tech then the NASA command center.

“Why is it called the Centurion?” I ask surprised.

“The Centurion commands it all. Aptly named, don’t you think?”

“Is it? How?” I ask.

“The centurion was the commander of a century,” he starts and seeing the blank expression on my face he smiles. “A century could contain two-hundred to one thousand men. Not only were the centurions commanders, but they were educated, had connections, seasoned in the military and were at least thirty years old; being mature they didn’t have the skittishness or carelessness and detrimental heroics which are such the ailments of youth. They were well endowed; strong, and had great dexterity in missile weapons. They were experts in the use of sword and shield and in all exercises. The centurions were self-restrained, observant, circumspect, ready to execute orders without questions or qualms, had the best discipline among all soldiers, impeccable, well dressed, and their weapons were ever the ready. All things you would desire of a perfect commander.”

I nod understanding.

“Well John, make me work and let us see if I’m worthy of the centurion command center even though I don’t meet the age requirement by being 21,” I say with a smile, and take a seat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Uhmmm…. John? Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes?”

“The Duke…” I start, and his eyebrows shoot up, he goes rigid. “Is he from an old family? I’m curious because he looks like he was born into privilege. I guess I just don’t know how one gains the title Duke,” I say rapidly in one breath before he says I’m not supposed to ask questions about him.

“Yes, his is
a member of a very old family, some say it goes back to the Romans. But, no one really knows for sure how his family first got the title.”

“What kind of nobility is a
Duke
?”

“The highest rank below the monarch,” he replies studying me.

“Wow! No wonder he had an ancient royal ring. I thought it looked and felt like the lost ring of King Minos,” I say and John looks at me blankly.

“There’s something I know that you don’t, John?” I smile, teasing him. He looks at me pseudo admonishingly for an explanation. “Well, I’m not sure if it is or not. But I’ve seen a lot of drawings of it, and the ring he wore on the middle finger of his left hand looked remarkably similar to what I remember from those drawings. The legend has it that the last person who had it in his possession was Hero Theseus. He retrieved it from the sea where the King Minos tossed it, and with the power he gained from it he killed the Minotaur in the Labyrinth. Come to think of it the mythology never stated that he returned the ring to the king. It must have remained in his family because he married the king’s daughter.” John stiffens like a statue before me, shocked.

“It’s just a story John! My uncle told me the story more than once. He has a habit of repeating some stories. That’s why I remember it,” I say shrugging. “And besides we don’t know if it’s the same ring. His could just be a remarkable replica, because there are replicas around,” I rush on when John doesn’t move. But I have a feeling that a man like the Duke would not wear anything fake. “Anyway, the original ring was supposed to be twenty-four carat gold. This one didn’t feel or look like it. It was coated with something and the depicted characters almost looked animated, like acting out a scene. Maybe I didn’t see it properly since I’ve been so tired. The stone that was coating the imagery was so lucid as if it was made of dull, translucent light. It may after all have been the trick of the eye…and I could be completely mistaken in my assessment,” I say in one breath.

He grapples the chair before him for support. His smile already vanished; his gaze darkens as he looks at me intently.

“Don’t leave this room for any reason! There are bathrooms in here back there, and a meeting room with a stocked kitchen if you need food,” he points to a door at the back of the room. “There may be some other employees coming in here but they are all authorized, very few and well trusted employees. You don’t need to worry about them. Just stay put here. Oh, the computer marked with your name should have the Spanish files you will need to look over. Keep yourself busy with that,” he says and practically runs out of the door before I can pick my jaw off the floor.

“What the hell
just happened?” I ask to the closed door. I sigh, and prepare to review the files.

“Well, I better get a drink of something if I have to sit and work in this dress. I’d have worn something comfortable if I knew I was spending my time here,” I mutter to myself. Slowly rising up, I walk toward the heavy door that’s hiding the kitchen, bathroom and the meeting room behind
it. Finding another woman there doesn’t surprise me. John said that other employees would be working. What surprises me is that she too is dressed for the party and standing by an open ornate door with her eyes closed. Maybe she’s a guest… a stunning guest who needed a little time alone. But I dismiss the idea because according to John Henry, only the employees are allowed here. So, she must be an employee.

“Hi! I hope I’m not disturbing you. I’ll just get a drink a
nd get out of your way,” I say softly. The blonde goddess opens her eyes under her heavy eyelashes and looks at me with her assessing, stunningly beautiful eyes.

“You’re not disturbing me, Elissa,” she replies innocently. “I’m working.” I’m surprised that she knows my name. But, if she’s an employee, she probably got the 411 on her co-workers.

“With your eyes closed?” I ask unable to resist since there’s no task before her.

“Yeeesss,” she purrs the word almost seductively. “Imagine what I can do with my eyes open, Elissa,” she smiles softly and this time she assesses me head to toe taking a few steps away from the door. Her walk is completely sensual with her hips swaying just the right amount to draw your attention, her breasts are perky and straining her dress but not competing with her overall package. Her dress is simply stunning making it hard to tell whether she’s made for the dress, or the dress is made for her.

“I’m sorry, Miss. You leave me at a disadvantage here. You seem to know me, but I don’t know who you are. You said you’re working, so I’m assuming you’re one of Mr. Pella's employees.”

“I’m Hailey,” she says extending her hand
without confirming my statement. I note that she only gives me her first name, not who she is or what she does for Alex. I take her hand to shake, and feel a warm, caressing softness course through my body from her like a sedative, relaxing me immediately.

“Hailey…” I repeat softly. “I still don’t know how you know me,” I say pulling my hand back, my thoughts momentarily muddled.

“We’ve met a very long time ago. Isn’t Maximilian your beau; No?”

“Who?” I ask sounding like an owl.

“Maximilian Courcillion, sweetheart,” she replies. A loud laughter escapes me unexpectedly, surprising us both.

“I’m sorry, Hailey. Other than my first name, you are wrong
on all accounts about me. You and I have never met, otherwise I’d remember and I just met Monsieur Courcillion, the Duke you speak of. I assure you, I’m not his quaintrelle, friend, or even associate for that matter.”

“Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry. I feel quite awkward now. I have met Duke Courcillion’s
quaintrelle and her name was Elissa. But, of course it’s been quite some time and she looked remarkably like you. I do apologize for this embarrassing error. I hope you can forgive me,” she asks completely sincere extending her hand again. I reluctantly extend mine and she takes my hand between hers, holding it gently.

“No harm’s done. We all make mistakes,” I reply.

“You will find this completely awkward but, may I show you something?”

“I
guess. But I’m not supposed to leave…” I say.

“Oh, you don’t have to leave anywhere at all. I’d like to show you a painting and get your artsy, 21
st
century opinion on it.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say you do for Mr. Pella?”

“I’m part of the high profile client security.”

“How does the painting
you want to show me tie in with the job I’m supposed to be doing? I think I need to start working and get to know the clients’ background,” I say uneasily.

“It ties
in because the artwork purchased by clients who are present here show the tastes of the clients who are participating in the auction. The goal is to maximize profits, is it not? If you have a clear idea about what buyers like before they come to buy, you have greater chance of selling to them because you know their tastes,” she says patiently.