Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  “He’s just going to have a chat with him, Bente,” she assured in a creepy slow voice.

  “That’s it?”

  She tore her eyes from Joel’s table to glance at me. “And while he’s distracted, I’m going to steal his wallet.”

  “You’re what?” My voice sounded strange as I tried to quietly yell the words.

  She didn’t get a chance to reply. Noelle rounded the corner. “What’s going here?” she asked, eyeing us suspiciously.

  “Nothing for you to worry about, Noelle,” replied Charli.

  She wasn’t convinced. “We’re super busy out there, Bent-ta. You’re needed.”

  “She’s okay for a minute,” said Charli. “Ryan’s taking care of front of house.”

  Noelle’s eyes popped. “What the hell is going on?” she squeaked. “He’s not supposed to be serving!” Her adoration of Ryan was positively bizarre. She held him on an invisible pedestal like some kind of restaurant god.

  Charli brushed her off. “He’s fine, Noelle. Just go back to whatever it is you do.”

  “Do you even know what it is that I do?”

  Charli never took her eyes off Ryan. “Not really.”

  “Ugh! Why do you even come here?” She used her angry squeak. Things were getting serious. “You’re disruptive and annoying.”

  “I’ve been told that before,” she calmly replied. “But I figure no one’s perfect, right?”

  Noelle threw out her arms in exasperation. “That’s it. I give up.”

  35. BAIT

  Ryan

  I couldn’t find a single classy feature about the dick sitting at table two. He was in his late thirties, used too much product to slick back his hair and had no aversion to wearing a pink tie. Just for fun, I pretended he was the big shot he considered himself to be, plastered a smile on my face and introduced myself.

  “Hello there.” I held out my hand. “I’m Ryan Décarie.”

  “The manager?” he asked, weakly meeting my handshake.

  “The proprietor.”

  A flash of panic crossed his ugly face. I wondered if he thought Bente had sent me over.

  “Joel McGivern,” he muttered.

  I took it upon myself to pull out a chair and join him. I called the closest waitress over. “A bottle of champagne, please. The best.”

  His panicked look returned and I spoke to reassure him. “You look like you can afford it, am I right, Joel? What line of business are you in?”

  “Real estate,” he replied.

  “Well, clearly it’s a profitable venture.”

  I could see his ego inflating as he straightened his pink tie. “I do alright,” he boasted.

  Joel McGivern was a tool, but he was actually relatively useful. My brother and I kept a pretty close eye on the real estate market, and were always on the lookout for new projects. The longer I kept Joel talking, the more interested I became. When he mentioned the upcoming sale of a particular Midtown building, he had my total attention. “It’s a forced sale,” he revealed, smirking. “The old fogey who owns it can’t afford to keep it anymore. It’ll go for a steal.”

  I leaned back, mainly to escape the faint whiff of his cheap cologne. “Is that so?”

  “Huge building,” he continued. “It used to be a club, back in the day.”

  I had sudden visions of a new restaurant project – one that I didn’t have to share with Charli. After stroking his ego with a few more compliments, I coaxed the address out of him. He pulled his wallet out and wrote it on the back of a business card. “If you want to take it any further, you call me,” he instructed. “I should be able to secure the listing in a few days – a week, tops.”

  In a move I couldn’t have planned better, he laid his wallet on the table. I busied him again by talking business, paving the way for Charli to make her move.

  She swept in quickly, intercepting a notebook and a tray of champagne from a passing waitress. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she crooned, clumsily setting the tray on the table. I’d forgotten what a useless server she was, but in this instance it didn’t matter. Joel didn’t notice her lack of skill; he was too busy checking her out.

  “Well hello there,” he drawled, looking her up and down.

  “Like what you see, Joel?” I asked crassly, cutting to the chase. I didn’t want to draw out the conversation any longer than necessary in case he moved his wallet.

  He stared as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d said it. Obviously being a smarmy jerk was supposed to be subtle. “Err, sure,” he stammered.

  “Yup.” I winked at Charli. “She’s a looker alright.” I felt as slimy as he looked. Using my brother’s wife as douche bait was poor form, even for me.

  Charli playfully swatted my shoulder, following up with a pout that nearly made me laugh. Joel didn’t pick up on our terrible acting, but I wasn’t about to question it. As soon as he was distracted by Tinker Bell’s flirty giggle, I knocked his wallet to the floor.

  Charli made her move less than a minute later. She dropped her notebook and crouched to pick it up. Joel didn’t see her tuck the wallet down her shirt, which was surprising since her chest had been the focus of his attention since she approached. After giggling a few more times at his repugnant innuendos, she excused herself and sashayed away.

  I was done too. I left him alone to enjoy the meal that he could no longer afford to pay for, and headed back to my office.

  36. LOVE NOTES

  Bente

  When they set their minds to it, Ryan and Charli worked together like a well-oiled machine. The whole operation took less than two minutes. Charli made her way back to me first, waving Joel’s wallet that she’d just pulled from her bra. Ryan was only seconds behind. Considering they’d just lifted a man’s wallet, they both looked far too pleased with themselves.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  Ryan spoke first. “Charli will take care it.” He made it sound as if they had a body to dispose of. Disturbingly, Charli didn’t seem alarmed in the slightest. Ryan kissed my cheek and disappeared back out the front.

  Charli grabbed my hand and pulled me into his office. I closed the door and leaned against it as if we really did have a body to get rid of. Charli sat down at the desk and began rifling through the wallet.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed, appalled.

  “Trying to find an address to mail it to.”

  I relaxed the tiniest bit. At least she planned to return it. She found his driver’s license and copied the address onto an envelope.

  “Okay, now seal it up and get rid of it,” I demanded.

  Her grin was straight out of a horror movie. “I’m not quite done yet.”

  “Charli, please,” I begged, making a grab for the wallet. “This is so wrong.”

  She yanked it out of reach. “Do you think you’re the first girl he’s hit on, Bente?”

  “No,” I conceded. “Probably not.”

  “And you won’t be the last either,” she replied. “What if the next victim isn’t as good at warding him off?”

  I slumped in the chair opposite her. “She’ll be in trouble.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “Does he have a wife?”

  “Yes, and she’s actually quite nice.” Mrs McGivern had come into the office a few times while I worked there, always bearing homemade cupcakes or fresh flowers for the reception area. She had no idea what a jerk her husband could be. He acted almost normal when she was around.

  The more I thought about it, the more I was content to see Joel get his just deserts. I watched with wary curiosity as Charli found a piece of paper. “How’s your handwriting?” she asked.

  “Recognisable,” I muttered.

  “Okay,” she picked up a pen, “I’ll write it then.” Charli narrated as she wrote. “‘Darling Joel,’” she began. “‘Fingers crossed that the tests come back clear. Mine were okay. Two out of three isn’t bad.’”

  It was impossible not to be impressed by her wickedness, even if I wa
sn’t prepared to encourage her by admitting it.

  “‘Lots of love, Roxy’,” she signed off.

  “Roxy?”

  Charli slipped the paper and wallet into the envelope addressed to Mrs McGivern. “Roxy,” she purred obscenely. “She’s so nasty.” She sealed it shut and threw it in her purse just in the nick of time.

  Noelle barged in, looking more panicked and skittish than usual. “The man at two can’t settle his tab,” she snapped. “He says he’s lost his wallet.”

  “So?” asked Charli calmly. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

  “You’re the boss,” she reminded. “Sort it out.”

  “Now you want me to be the boss?” grumbled Charli, rolling her eyes.

  Noelle looked in danger of exploding right out of her stilettos. Luckily for her, Ryan swooped in and saved the day. “I’ve dealt with it,” he called from the doorway. “I comped his meal.”

  “Why?” squeaked Noelle.

  Ryan’s smirk killed his blasé demeanour. “What can I say? I’m a nice guy.”

  37. GOOD DEALS

  Ryan

  Any normal person would’ve been embarrassed by the situation Joel had found himself in, but clearly Joel wasn’t normal. He turned up at Billet-doux a few days later and asked to meet with me. Reluctantly, I instructed Noelle to show him through to my office.

  At first I assumed he was there to settle the bill I’d covered for him. But no, he wanted to talk business.

  “Did you get a chance to swing by the property I told you about?” There was a desperate tone to his voice. Perhaps he needed the sale now that he was facing the prospect of a costly divorce. “I’ll definitely secure the sale if I’ve already got a buyer lined up.”

  Joel McGivern was a revolting, unscrupulous man. I shouldn’t have been giving him the time of day, but I couldn’t deny that I was interested in the property he was trying to push.

  “I need to talk to my brother,” I told him. “We go fifty-fifty in our real estate projects.”

  Joel’s edginess seemed to intensify. He took his phone out. “Give me his number,” he demanded without authority. “I’ll call him.”

  That was never going to happen. I made a vague promise to call Adam myself, thanked Joel for coming and pushed him out the door.

  ***

  Adam’s schedule was far busier than mine. Both he and Charli were battling to find more hours in the day, and neither was showing any sign of slowing down.

  I’d been babysitting my niece four days a week for the past month. Charli hadn’t mentioned finding another sitter, and I doubt she was looking. I didn’t care either way. Hanging out with Bridget was good for my soul.

  Most afternoons were spent at the park but today we deviated from the program. I took her downtown to visit her dad at work instead. Father–daughter time wasn’t my motive. I wanted to talk to him about the deal Joel was pushing.

  Bridget and I stealthily slipped past Tennille at the front desk and headed straight for Adam’s office. We hadn’t called ahead, and if he was annoyed by the interruption he didn’t let on. He was on the phone when we arrived. Bridget ran across the room and piled onto his lap. Adam didn’t miss a beat, continuing the call as if his daughter wasn’t restricting his airway with a chokehold on his neck.

  When he put the phone down he turned his attention to Bridget. “What are you doing here?” He tickled her belly, making her giggle like a miniature demon. “It’s such a nice surprise.”

  “It’s a good story of the day today,” she replied, holding his head in place by pinning his cheeks beneath her hands.

  “Indeed,” he agreed.

  I sat opposite his desk and launched into the real reason for our impromptu visit. “It could be a really good deal,” I suggested.

  Bridget picked up a pen and Adam moved quickly to find her some paper. “I don’t have time to do this, Ryan.”

  “You don’t have to do anything,” I assured him. “I just want to know if you want in on it.”

  Bridget pointed her pen at me. “We want in on it, Ry,” she announced. “Just do it.”

  Adam wasn’t as easily swayed as the little wheeler-dealer sitting on his knee, but he agreed to think about it. “Have you mentioned it to Charli?” he asked.

  “No, that would involve dealing with your wife,” I said, feigning a shudder. “And I make it a habit never to deal with your wife.”

  “Daddy, can we go to the park?” interjected Bridget.

  Adam’s eyes drifted to the swathe of papers spanning his desk. “Yes,” he replied, surprising me. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”

  ***

  Battery Park was not one of Bridget’s usual haunts. The wind blowing in from the river was cold but it didn’t seem to faze her as she hung upside down on the climbing frame like a little monkey.

  Adam and I observed from a nearby bench, drinking the coffee we’d bought on the short walk down there. Apart from quick five-minute conversations during Bridget handovers, we hadn’t spent much time together lately. My excuse was that I’d been too caught up with the lovely brunette who’d recently moved in with me. Adam’s reasons weren’t so romantic.

  “I don’t have much time for anything, Ryan. I feel like a trapped animal,” he bleakly confessed. “Every day is the same.”

  “Are you talking about your job?” I had to ask – his cryptic comment had come out of nowhere.

  He took his eyes off Bridget to glance at me. “Yeah, of course.”

  Getting out of New York for a few years had changed Adam. I doubt he would have ever come back if Charli hadn’t been offered a position at the Merriman gallery. In a strange twist of fate, Tinker bell didn’t seem to be floundering in New York this time around. She’d found her feet in a job she loved.

  “Maybe it’s time to find a new job,” I suggested.

  “I’m thinking about it,” he muttered. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to deal with the fallout.”

  Obviously he was talking about Dad. There was nothing I could say that would be remotely encouraging, so I changed the subject to Bente’s dresser revamp. His mood brightened instantly. “She loves it,” I told him. “We weren’t expecting you to finish it so quickly.”

  “I worked on it at night. I had to do it fast,” he explained. “Charli wanted it out of the living room.”

  Until then, I hadn’t given any consideration to the logistics of the task. Gabi’s apartment was tiny, certainly no place for a workshop. It made Adam’s gesture even more impressive.

  “I really do appreciate it,” I told him.

  “I’m sure you appreciated the brownie points too.”

  “I don’t need brownie points,” I replied chuckling. “I’m doing okay.”

  “You like Bente, don’t you?”

  I kept my focus firmly ahead, refusing to look at him. “I think I love her.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it feels real,” I replied. “When she smiles at me, she means it. I’ve never had that before.”

  Adam walked his cup to the trash, chuckling blackly the whole way. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

  “A little,” I conceded. “I told her I loved her, and now I feel there’s no going back.”

  “You’re not locked in for a lifetime, Ryan,” he reminded. “It’s not like you married her.”

  “What if I do marry her?” I asked. “How do I know it won’t happen again? I might fall in love again one day.”

  I was new to this love thing. I wanted to know how I could be certain that Bente would be my one and only. If anyone could tell me, it should’ve been my brother. He’d locked in his happy ending at twenty-two.

  “I fall in love ten times a day, Ryan,” he informed me. “But it’s always with Charlotte.”

  I believed him. And I envied him. And I wouldn’t have admitted it if he’d been holding a gun to my head.

  Our impromptu brotherly heart-to-heart came to an abrupt end when Bridget came running over.
“We have to go now, Daddy,” she demanded urgently.

  “Why, baby?” he asked. “What’s your rush?”

  She crashed onto his lap as if it was the only safe place in the whole world. “The squirrels are trying to eat me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” he soothed. “You don’t look that tasty.”

  “Two of them growled at me,” she insisted.

  “Really?” he asked, gazing in the direction of the playground. “Which ones?”

  “The mean ones.”

  I thumped my fist into my open palm. “Do you want me to go over and have a quiet word with them?” I offered.

  “No,” she replied in a tiny voice. “Their mum is a mean lady too, Ry. She’ll growl and make you cry.”

  “We should go then,” suggested Adam, maintaining his hold on his daughter as he stood. “I don’t feel like being growled at today. I get enough of that at work.”

  38. REJECTION

  Bente

  No one enjoys being rejected, and it had been happening to me a lot lately. I’d lost count of the number of jobs I’d applied for, but as of that morning, the rejection letters totalled seventeen.

  I scrunched up the latest, threw it across the room and fell into a heap on the couch.

  Ryan wasn’t sharing my dark mood. If anything, he was raring to go. He appeared in front of me, dressed to kill in a grey suit.

  “Are you okay?” He bounced a bunch of keys in his hand.

  I brought my knees to my chest. “No.”

  “Another letter?”

  “I need a job, Ryan.”

  He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “You have a job.”

  Working at Billet-doux was fine. It was the only aspect of my life that was fine. Everything else was spectacular. I just wanted to pull my professional life in line with my personal one.

  “Thankfully I have the day off today.” I sounded pathetic. “If Noelle calls me in, I’m going to say no.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Good idea. You can spend the day with me.”