The Parlour (VDB #1) (19 page)

“Good?”

“Very.” Fuck her. Yes, I was good. I
am
good. Regardless of what my old employer may have believed. I am better than this whore house. I just need to get back out there.

“Hmmm,” she muses, swiping her phone out and inputting something. She eventually raises her head again and leans towards me to whisper.

“What do you know about divorce?”

“Quite a bit really. I did several back-up cases for the lawyers, gathering information, that sort of thing. Do you need one? Why are we whispering?”

“Too many ears around here, and there’s always someone trying to create trouble. I don’t need one, but I do know someone who does,” she says with a conspiratorial wink and another breath-taking smile. I swear I could turn gay for her. She’s completely overwhelming in an understated way. How do people achieve that? Wow. I can’t find any words to describe her at all.

“Is that your normal dress sense?”

“Hardly.” She snorts out a magical sounding laugh and relaxes back with her champagne again.

“Seems you have a little bite, Lilah.”

“What?”

“Snappy, backbone. You appear to be ready to fight for what you believe is right.”

“I suppose it’s returning, but I don’t feel like I’ve got anything to fight with. I can’t even use moral advantage until I get some money. So I’m stuck with this at the moment, or it’s back out on the streets. Not a place I’m prepared to go to again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can have one of Alex’s flats.”

“What?”

“As long as you organise a very tricky divorce for me and make a morally good judgement on who deserves what from the settlement, you can stay at one of his apartments and still get the money Pascal’s promising you,” she says, swinging her hair around. “Okay? No sex involved. Well, not the obligatory kind, anyway. I’m sure Pascal will be more than obliging should you want that from him. He’s very good at it, by the way, makes you all tingly.”

She fucks him, too?

“But why would he still pay me? And what’s the situation with the three of you?” That was so inappropriate. I definitely shouldn’t have asked. She smiles again and crosses her legs the other way with cat-like grace.

“I’ll make him pay you, or Alex will, which is still me making it happen in the long run.”

Ruebin opens the door just as I’m about to get the best part of the information. He quietly places another glass and bottle in front of us and then backs out again. “Have you told him?” she asks. He nods in reply and continues to gaze at the floor. She waits until the door’s firmly closed before divulging anything else, but when I open my mouth, she lifts a finger, indicating that I should wait. She pulls out a small clip and scratches the top of her head like any old person in the street then scrapes her hair up into a ponytail. She suddenly seems so normal, the first person who seems even remotely that way in comparison to the rest of them. “Lilah, I like you, and if you want the truth, I’m willing to give you some of it, but make sure you remember one thing. If I think you’re out to hurt anyone, or destroy anything precious in my life, I’ll have to find feisty Beth to kill you.”

My mouth drops open in astonishment. As far as I’m aware, I’ve done nothing to deserve death as of yet. And I do not intend to destroy anything, except my own self-respect, which, if I agree to this set up, won’t have to happen either. Thank God.

“Who’s feisty Beth?”

“Me, on another day. She’s a real charmer. And I will kill you if you screw with my life, got it?” I rapidly nod my head in agreement as her face becomes very nearly scary in its appearance.

“Got it.”

“Good. So where shall I start? How about the first time I met Pascal? Or maybe Alex would be better. This is harder than I thought. So much has happened. Umm… Okay, let’s start with why you need to understand how the mind of a sadist works. Perhaps you’ll understand Pascal and this place a little better then, yes? Good starting point?” I nod again, as if I know what a good starting point is. I just need money, and this absolute angel sent from heaven seems to be offering that for me just doing what I’m good at. I’ll nod at just about anything.

“Sounds good.”

“Great, take that jacket off then and get comfy. You hungry? I fancy fish and chips for this tale,” she says with a charming giggle as she flings her shoes over the back of the chair.  “Where’s the chef person?”

Fish and chips? Who on earth is she? Regardless of the fact that I have no idea who she is or why she’s going to tell me anything at all, I do find myself peeling off my restrictive jacket and smiling at her inane chattering. She’s always smiling, as if she’s so comfortable within these walls, relaxed and happy to be with these people with no care in the world. Yet she seems so down to earth in comparison.

I’d quite like fish and chips, too. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might have found a friend, someone I may be able to rely on for help – morally decent help.

“But I have an apartment at Roxanne’s. I could–”

“I’m sure you do, and I still think it’s better that you stay in one of Alex’s. Everything you need will be there, and you won’t be interrupted or swayed in your opinion,” she says as we step out of the limo and walk towards a huge remodel overlooking central park. Idiotically gasping at the portico area flanked by two men dressed in yellow livery, I gaze upwards at the towering block of apartments in awe.

I’ve walked this way before in my boredom, but I was always quickly moved on by some holier-than-thou arsehole. Presumably, they didn’t want street running trash gazing at the unattainable and sullying the neighbourhood. If they’d just given me a chance to reply at the time rather than assuming my state was self-inflicted, I might have proved I was other than what they thought I was. But that’s just the way it is on the streets. You can’t prove a damn thing. No one gives you a chance to. Still, I’m here now, with someone I hardly know, although I feel like I’ve known her all my life, and I’m about to enter one of Alexander White’s apartments. I’m still not really sure why. All I know is that there’s a divorce that needs attending to.

“Why would I be swayed in my opinion? Opinions don’t matter anyway,” I reply absentmindedly. I’m still gawping at the Victorian beauty of the structure as she tugs on my arm and leads us over the carpet towards the men, effortlessly sweeping along in her stunning black heels. They both nod at her and smile at me, welcoming us in with a wave of their arms.

“Well, because it’s Pascal’s divorce, from Roxanne.” I skid to a halt on the marble floor. She wants me to handle his divorce? I may be good, but that’s a whole heap of trouble waiting to be found. I didn’t even know they were married.

“They’re married? I can’t do–”

“Yes, they are, but I don’t think many people know, if anyone. I expect you to keep it very quiet. Neither of us expect you to deal with the actual litigation. Alex has a lawyer for the final performance, but we need someone who will go unnoticed when they’re quietly digging around. And you can do it, Lilah,” she says, making her way to the concierge and giving him her ID card.

“Oh.”

“Lilah, you’re perfect for this. Please do it. Everyone thinks you’re a nobody, and all you’ve got to do is grab info, you know, get involved in legal stuff that I have absolutely no clue about at all. Belle deals with legal stuff, not me,” she says quietly, turning me away from the man at the desk.
Who’s Belle?
“And because of other stuff recently, Alex doesn’t trust anybody with anything, as if he ever did anyway. But he wants the best for Pascal, as do I. We just need to know someone we can trust is handling it. And here’s the best bit…” She giggles, looking back at me. “From him, which is quite astounding, frankly. He says if you do it well and he likes you, he’ll give you a downtown apartment and a job when you’re done if you want one. No catches. Apparently he’s being decent.”

My mouth gapes again.

“I’d say. Really? I don’t know what to say to that. Why would he?” She scribbles something on a card that the concierge has given her and then takes some keys with a smile. Eventually, a sigh leaves her as she gazes at the floor for a second then quickly moves us across to the lift.

“Because deep down, under all that arsehole behaviour I told you about, and his many, many sadistic preferences, he’s a good man, Lilah.” I’m not sure I believe that after all the things she’s told me over the last four hours. I raise a brow at her in challenge and chuckle at the giggle that leaves her mouth again. It’s completely infectious. “Okay, okay, it might be just because he’s in my bad books at the moment and he fucked up quite a lot. Let’s just say he’s got some making up to do.”

“Oh, right.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Okay,” I reply, nodding my acceptance while inwardly shaking my head at the mess I’m getting myself into. At least I don’t have to fuck anyone for money this time. “I’ll try.” She claps her hands and links her arm with mine as she presses the button for the lift.

“That’s all we ask, honey. See, I knew I liked you for a reason. You’re smart, beautiful and intelligent. No wonder Pascal was all possessive.”
What?
I’m not getting involved in that discussion, no matter how much I might want it to mean something. I close my mouth and try for a more business-like question instead while she swings her trailing red hair up into a knot.

“Who’s the lawyer I’ll be working with?” I ask, watching the flash of lights on the board in front of us. Maybe I’ll know him.

“He’s American, I think, and won’t get involved unless you need him. All the info you’ll need will be here by the morning, Alex said he’d bring the files on Roxanne and Pascal himself at some point. You just need to get to it. Easy, right?” she replies as the doors open, revealing an ornate, dark oak door. She reaches the key for the door and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for her appearance in my life. Whatever or whoever she might be, she’s like a guardian angel I desperately needed to get me out of the situation I’d found myself in. As she clicks the latch, I grab hold of her arm and she turns toward me.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. You’ve just breezed in and saved my life in a roundabout way. I’m just extremely grateful for it, for you. Life was difficult and now I can do what I do best without interference, or any need to have sex with strangers. Quite a result for someone who was on the streets a few weeks ago. So, thank you.” She smiles again and pats my arm.

“You’re very welcome, honey,” she replies. “But like I said, just remember to keep up your scruples over right and wrong. These people have no morals at all, and spend most of their time trying to screw others over. I just want you to make the right decision about who gets what, without Pascal getting into trouble about what he’s been. Roxanne, no doubt, will try to make that happen, not that she’s an angel at all, but I need you to make sure he’s alright, okay? She’s not a happy bunny about our presence in his life.”

“Well, she is his wife. I’m not surprised really.”

“And former Domme, but that’s another story, and–”

The door suddenly swings open and I find a devastatingly attractive pair of cool blue eyes staring down at me. This time, he’s clad far more casually in a black sweater and jeans. The direct onslaught of his eyes has me swinging my head downwards in the hope of avoidance, or maybe respectful thanks. I’m not sure which, but at least I don’t have to deal with them this way.

“Ladies,” he says smoothly. It sounds like a velvet glove wrapping around me, and I feel the shiver that engulfs my frame instantly.

“Oh, ignore it, Lilah. He does that to everyone,” she says with another giggle as she brushes past him and looks around the space. “And don’t be fooled by his eyes either. Look at him straight on. Otherwise you’ll just indulge his vanity. Beautiful as he is, he really doesn’t need any help acknowledging his own ego.”

“I could be offended by that,” he says, crooking his fingers at me until I walk forward slowly, trying to leave as much space between us as possible and look anywhere but at him. He seems to find this highly amusing as he chuckles behind me and decreases the space again, purposefully. “I presume you’re not going to collapse in my arms again, Miss James?” My head snaps round at his tone of amusement.

“I didn’t collapse in your arms. I collapsed, and you caught me. Entirely different,” I reply haughtily, somehow finding the gumption required to look at him and stand up for myself.

“You seem like you didn’t enjoy collapsing into my arms?”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I mean… Sorry, but I don’t like collapsing full stop. It’s weak and pathetic.” And reminds me of being out there on the streets, of begging and scurrying around in hope, and of being useless, which I am not – not where business is concerned anyway. His brow rises at my clipped tone with the slightest hint of humour still tracing his mouth.

“Hmm... Interesting,” he muses as he continues to stare at me and I try to keep looking back. My eyes flicker in and out of his hold. I can feel myself wanting to look away, but given what’s now happening, I’m damned if I’m showing him any more fear. He wants a worker, someone who’ll do an efficient job and sort out a problem for him. Looking at the floor and acting nervously around him isn’t going to show him I’m capable. It will just make him think I’m weaker than he already seems to think I am. Fuck that.

“Stop analysing her,” Elizabeth says, swiftly smacking the back of his head and breaking our staring match. Presumably she’s allowed to hit him. He doesn’t budge; not one bit of him moves, as if he’s absorbed her impact with no feeling at all. “Now, where’s the study, and did you bring the files for Lilah? Stop playing with our new legal guru. She’s been warned to be impartial to your techniques.”

He continues to stare at me for a moment, until he eventually snorts a little and walks straight over to her with a smirk. It’s wholly deviant, completely beautiful, and more than likely shows a hint of that good man she‘s trying to tell me about. Suddenly, all I can see and feel is love in the air. His blue eyes are shining and twinkling as he drags his fingers across her chest and lingers in front of her. That overwhelming smile of hers just beams back at him. I consider his reactions and watch her movements next to him. She may seem casual, but she’s not. She’s constantly weighing him up, gauging his face, and looking him straight on, as if she’s looking directly past whatever he’s showing on the outside. Monster he may be, but she has every inch of him wrapped around her little finger. Clever woman.

“Pascal is deeply important to me and I expect him to come out of this unscathed, “ he says quietly, still intently focused on her as he fiddles with her chin and inspects her throat, causing her to smile even more. “And while financially healthy is preferable, it’s not essential. Mainly, I need his reputation intact, his family kept well out of it, and his wellbeing safeguarded. Do you understand?” The voice that delivers the words may be smooth, but there’s a truer version of his tone flying out beneath it. It’s harsh and unyielding, and leaves me with no doubt that he expects me to give everything to ensure Pascal’s safety. In fact, if Elizabeth wasn’t here, I doubt this conversation would be anywhere near as pleasant as it is. He kisses her briefly then turns, and I swear I can feel the threat from across the room. Gone is the love in his gaze. His cold stare has returned with full effect and it’s filled with malice and aggression. His mouth is flat, and yet somehow graced with a sneer that could scare the devil himself. I shiver at the thought of what his unkind hands might be capable of and fight to keep my eyes trained on his. “Elizabeth seems to believe you are capable of doing this without fucking it up. Are you?”

“Alex, please. She’s–”

“Be quiet, Elizabeth,” he snarls. “I want to hear Ms. James tell me who the hell she is.”

If I could shake any more than I currently am doing, I might well collapse into his arms again. Elizabeth’s sudden obedience in response to his tone has me questioning how to react. Should I get on the floor? That’s what Vixon would tell me to do. He tilts his head at me and slowly puts his hand in his pocket, accentuating that very broad top half to startling effect. I somehow summon the wherewithal to explain my trustworthiness from my feet. My legal brain kicks in from somewhere, highlighting the problems at hand rather than just the man in front of me.

“Mr. White, I will do everything in my power to ensure this goes as smoothly as possible. I like Pascal, and if I can find a way to keep his nose clean in all of this then I will. But, as I’m sure you know, from my limited experience with him, I’m not positive that will be possible. He obviously has all kinds of businesses going on, including human trafficking and sexual slavery as far as I can tell, something I’m not overly familiar with at present. I will endeavour to get up to speed as soon as I can, though.”

“HUMAN FUCKING TRAFFICKING?” Elizabeth near screams across the room. I actually notice the slight flinch from Alex and can’t stop the small curve of my lip in amusement. “Sex slaves? Paid for? What the fuck has he been doing? Christ and fucking bollocks, Alex. I’ve changed my mind. He can go rot in–”

“In our bedroom,” he cuts in, holding his hand up to her while still looking at me, now with a mirroring curve of his lips and an arched brow. It’s enchanting in a demonic type of way, and I feel my insides weakening again as pools of something unfamiliar start swirling down below. “That’s where he can rot if that’s what you need, Elizabeth. You can have everything you need from him, but after this has been dealt with.”

“Oh my God, what a fucking idiot. How could he? What…? Oh, fuck off,” she spits, stomping towards the door and slamming it behind her. He glances at it with a smile and then back to me.

“Well, thank you for that, Lilah James,” he says with a chuckle, walking over to a cabinet and drawing out three files. “I’ve been wondering how to break that piece of information to her. I’m glad you did it for me.”

“She doesn’t seem very happy about it,” I reply, glancing at the door again, hoping that she’ll come back in, because this man is far nicer and easier to deal with when she’s around.

“She’s not, but she’ll tell him that in her own inimitable way,” he replies, handing me the files and watching them as I drag the precious pages to my chest and cradle them tightly.

“My life is in those files, Lilah. There is only one thing I value more highly than him, and you already know her. And while her morals are fascinating, I think you and I both know you’re going to need to be a little more relaxed in your views where Pascal’s life is concerned. He is… unusual.”