Remy

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Remy Page 5

by Becca Fanning


  The intensity was shocking but he didn’t want to stop, and from the way she clung to the front of his coat and pressed herself against him, he got the impression she didn’t want to stop either.

  They broke apart with a gasp. He wasn’t sure if the cold was to blame but her cheeks were a deep rosy hue and she was breathing hard.

  “What was that about?” he said, smiling down at her.

  “You talk too much.”

  He laughed then kissed her forehead. “Is this even possible?”

  She shrugged. “Does it matter right now?”

  “I don’t know. No, you’re right. We don’t have to make any long-term decisions now. What I do know is that I like kissing you.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m starving. Let’s go find that Chinese food place.”

  It was a trick to find, considering how small town was. The place was small, only a dozen tables, and most of them for two. They had no trouble finding a seat and their order, though quite large, came quickly.

  “You know what the downside of Chinese food is?” Remy said.

  “Hmm?”

  “No matter how much you eat or how stuffed you are when you put the chopsticks down, you’re hungry an hour later.”

  “Guess that’s an upside today. Big banquet tonight.”

  “Good point. How’s the beef?”

  “Ginger sauce is perfect.”

  They cleared their plates in record time. “What should we do with the rest of our afternoon?” Remy said.

  “I could think of a few things,” Tara said, “But we’d need to find someplace quiet.”

  “Oh really? I just happen to have a quiet hotel room.”

  “Well then, lead on.”

  The Banquet

  Remy tied his black tie and took a deep breath. It had been an interesting afternoon. They’d driven back to the hotel and Tara followed him to his room. They turned on the TV and snuggled up on the couch like they’d been dating for months when in reality they hadn’t even talked about what this relationship was or if it was going anywhere.

  Of course, sitting on the couch with Tara leaning into him, he hadn’t thought about that at all. All he thought about was how good it felt to have his arm wrapped around her as the heat of her body chased away the chill of a Montana April.

  He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair.

  “Are you paying any attention to the TV?” she asked.

  “No, you can change the channel if you want.”

  Instead she’d looked up and kissed him. One kiss led to more kisses until they were making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, complete with his hand up her shirt. He wasn’t sure how far it would have gone. They’d known each other a few days but he had little self-control around her, especially when she instigated something like that, and he wanted as much as she’d give him. But her cellphone had gone off and she’d pulled away, blushing. She slid from the couch and grabbed her purse. “Shit. I didn’t realize the time. My dad’s looking for me.” She smiled at him. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Of course.”

  She’d blown him a kiss and breezed out of the room.

  He grabbed his jacket from the closet and shrugged it on. He grabbed his wallet, key card, and black shoes. He looked around the hotel room and sighed. After Tara left, he’d showered and shaved and now he was completely ready for the formal dinner.

  There was nothing to wait for so he headed for the elevator. Marnie got on a floor down and looked him over. “You clean up well.”

  “Thank you. You look lovely, too.”

  “Luc had to twist my arm to pack this damn dress. I hate dresses.”

  “You and Jane both. She wore pants to Brock’s wedding.”

  “And did anyone say anything about it?”

  “Not in my hearing. And she didn’t punch anyone so they didn’t say anything in her hearing either.”

  She fussed with her skirt. “I wore a dress every Sunday for most of my childhood. I could do with wearing pants tonight.”

  “You look wonderful. It’s one evening.”

  She glared at him but stopped complaining.

  The volunteer at the dining hall door, who was not Tara to Remy’s disappointment, directed them to a table near the back wall, furthest away from the stage and the Council’s table.

  “I’m not surprised,” Marnie said as she sat. “I get the feeling the Council doesn’t approve of female Chiefs, whatever their official stance on the matter is. Remy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Who are you looking for?”

  “My friend.”

  “Ah yes, your mysterious friend. You’ll have to point her out to me.”

  “I never mentioned it was a girl,” he protested.

  “You don’t have to, I can tell. Unless I’m reading you wrong and you went on a date with a nice young man.”

  “Not my thing, no.”

  “Because it wouldn’t bother me. I may be nearing fifty, but ...”

  “Marnie, I’m sure you’re very progressive. Yes, my friend is a young woman.”

  The room continued to fill with Chiefs, a few of them with their wives, but overwhelming the room was filled with middle-aged and older men.

  Daniel, two other female chiefs, and an older man named Vincent whom Daniel seemed to know gradually joined them at their table.

  “Outcasts and misfits,” Marnie muttered.

  Suddenly Remy said, “There. She’s just come in.”

  Tara was standing just inside the door, glancing around the nearly full room. She was wearing an icy blue cocktail dress and a silver shrug. She held tight to the small silver bag in her hands. Remy’s heart was pounding just looking at her, at the way the silky fabric clung to her body and the way her dark hair framed her face. She finally looked his way and smiled, offering him the slightest of waves.

  “That’s your friend?” Daniel asked.

  Remy nodded. “In the blue dress.”

  “She’s hard to miss.”

  Remy nodded again.

  “Are you going to invite her over and introduce her?” Marnie asked.

  “Our table is full.”

  “So she won’t be sitting with us. At least bring her over to say hi before the dinner starts.”

  “Maybe wait on that,” Daniel said even as Remy was pushing his chair back.

  “Why?” But he didn’t need an answer. The next person to walk in was Charles and he put a hand on Tara’s elbow, escorting her to a table directly in front of the Council’s table.

  “That’s not his wife, is it?” Marnie asked.

  “No,” Vincent said. “That’s Charles Brown and his daughter, Tara, of Boston.”

  * * *

  Tara stood awkwardly in the doorway. She knew roughly where she and Charles were sitting but he’d asked her to wait for him, so she waited. She was looking for Remy, her gaze sweeping along the room, table by table. Finally she spotted him near the back of the room at the table of female Chiefs. He was staring at her.

  She waved, really no more than a wiggle of her fingers, and smiled. He waved back. Then Charles came in. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He led her by the elbow to a table at the front of the room and she sat so she could easily face the stage and still glance back at Remy.

  They were between speeches when Charles said, “You seem distracted?”

  “Hmm? Oh, just trying to get a friend’s attention.”

  “Friend?”

  “Yes, didn’t I mention?”

  “No, I thought you were busy with the volunteers.”

  “I was, but not the entire time. We met down at the pool. He’s very nice.”

  “He?”

  “Yes, you’re not going to get all protective, are you Dad?”

  “I can’t help it. You’ll always be my little girl.”

  “You aren’t this protective of Sophia,” she muttered.

  “T
his is not the place for this conversation,” he whispered. Then he smiled and said, “So, point him out to me.”

  “There, right near the back of the room.”

  “Of course. I’m not sure which …”

  “The dark hair. He’s seated with all the female Chiefs, it seems.”

  “Is he now? Does he have a name?”

  “His name is Remy.”

  Charles leaned in close to his daughter so he could speak softly and hopefully not be heard by the others seated at the table with them. “Tara, this is most unfortunate.”

  “I knew you were going to be all over-protective.”

  “It’s not that, Tara. Remy’s father and I have had some serious disagreements in the past. I’m afraid Remy may have been sent here to get information on me, and he wouldn’t think twice about using you to get it from me.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “Business secrets, I should suspect. His second, Brock Tandell, is a serious business rival of mine.”

  “You mean the son of Trevor Tandell, your old business partner? Dad, what’s really going on here?”

  “It’s exactly as I’m telling you, Tara. Remy’s father didn’t have money of his own so after Trevor Tandell died he started meddling in young Brock’s business affairs, exerting his influence as Chief, and it’s because of him that our successful partnership was ended. And now Remy continues to meddle in the Tandell’s economic affairs out of jealousy. He’s a corporate spy and you’re about to become his pawn.”

  * * *

  Remy was having a hard time paying attention to any of the formal speeches or ‘thank you’s going on at the front of the room. His eyes were glued to Tara. He’d barely eaten.

  At one point he thought he was both Tara and Charles glance his way and his heart sank. If she’s pointed me out to her father, she’s about to find out just how unfit I am for a Brown of the Boston Browns. He saw Tara and Charles lean in towards each other, could see their conversation was getting intense. And there it is. She’ll be looking down her nose at me just like her father does now.

  Saturday

  They opened up the three larger conference rooms into one big room, a simple matter of removing a few dividers, for the first day’s programming. All the Chiefs were invited to sit in on what amounted to the keynote address – a summary of what the Chiefs in North America had faced up to this point while dealing with The Human Order in the last twenty-five years and a list of items that would be covered by the rest of the conference.

  There were anywhere from two to five clans in each state, depending on the size of the clans and the size of the state. The Canadian Chiefs had been invited as well, all thirty-one of them, which brought their total up over two hundred, plus the Council members and a few other influential Chiefs had brought their wives, or in Charles’ case his daughter, to help run the conference, adding another dozen or more to the total head count.

  They’d arranged a raised dais at the front of the room so the Council could sit facing the rest of the Chiefs and see most of the crowd. The front row was taken up by wives and speakers.

  Remy stood near the back, watching the room fill up. Apparently leaving the seating plan open meant a power play for every chair. Sitting on the aisle was highly coveted as it meant you got to stretch your leg out. Sitting as close to the front as possible was also important for those who wished to show their wealth. But then sitting close to allies who could back up your claims or “hear-hear” your questions seemed to be more important to the lesser known Chiefs who didn’t have old money amplifying their opinions.

  Marnie appeared at his elbow with two glasses of water. He scowled. “I could have grabbed those.” He reached down and took them from her. “Shall we find a seat?”

  “Your mother taught you well but I’m not helpless.”

  “My mother taught me well and she’s not helpless. So God help me if I don’t use my manners and she finds out about it. Where do you want to sit?”

  “Not much space left and we need three seats.”

  “Yes, where is Daniel?”

  “Here,” Daniel said from behind them. “I’m right here. Grab us some seats or we’ll be left standing at the back and my knees won’t take that.”

  They ended up seated in the last row about mid-way down on the left side. Remy, being as tall as he was, had no trouble seeing what was going on, but from the way Marnie kept shifting in her seat, she was having a much harder time. He resisted the urge to lean over and offer her a booster seat. He really didn’t feel like getting smacked.

  “I’d like to call this conference officially to order.” Silence settled surprisingly fast over the room. The head of the Council, a man about Daniel’s age named Francis, stood at the front. “Thank you all for coming this weekend. I know it is always difficult for any of us to travel, but most especially for Chiefs. I thank you most graciously for agreeing to come over the full moon. We look forward to strengthening connections between chiefs and clans, and strengthening the ties between the Chiefs and the Council. But you didn’t come to listen to me pat people on the back, we did enough of that last night. There are many people to thank and I will take the time to thank them all before we all head for home. For now, I will let Andrew take over. He can bore you until lunch.”

  There was a ripple of laughter and a few whispers and then silence settled again. Andrew was a bit younger than Francis and didn’t seem to take offence to the head of the Council calling him a bore.

  “We’ve got a lot to cover so let’s get moving. We’ve faced controversy and hatred since we came out but The Human Order only first appeared in the early nineties, though I don’t think most people were aware of them until the birth of the internet. Since social media and free websites came along they have multiplied exponentially. Now, with the current national climate of bigotry and hatred, we’re at greater risk than ever.”

  “The advancements of science are working against our anonymity as well. We’ve had reports of werebears being blackmailed because they had bloodwork done or were injured in some way. No, it’s not the doctors or even nurses in these cases – generally it’s lab techs, or someone a lab tech told.”

  “We may reach a time when we will be required to list ‘werebear’ on our driver’s licenses, and that time may be a lot sooner than any of us feared or could have guessed. Already there is muttering in the government that we’re a threat, that a werebear pulled over at a traffic stop could assault an officer. They are also discussing how to update various criminal codes to cover how a werebear would be charged for committing a crime in animal form, and how they would be sentenced and imprisoned.”

  “I could answer a few questions on that,” Marnie muttered.

  Andrew managed to fill the three hours before lunch with more information on the status of the shifter laws, the current political climate, and statistics on crime rates among shifters – which was belong one percent over a ridiculously long period of time. He was thorough and long winded, but he was far from boring.

  “That about sums up the current state of affairs that forced us to call this conference. And it’s about time for lunch. We’re due back here at one-thirty to look at how changing technology is working against us and how it can work for us. Until then, you’re free to eat where you please. For those who haven’t had a chance to explore, there’s a restaurant and a café attached to the resort and a few restaurants in town. They have room service here as well. Thank you.”

  In addition to the options Andrew had listed, the resort staff put out a buffet in the dining hall. Daniel had decided to go lie down for an hour so it was just Marnie and Remy. “The Council is pretty damn full of themselves,” Marnie said. “They haven’t addressed a single one of my concerns. I’m not sure they’ve even listened to any of them. What was the point in sending out a survey asking people what they needed discussed if they were just going to ignore it?”

  “Marnie, we’re halfway through the first day, not even. We
’ve got all week.”

  “Still, you have to admit, that room is stuffed full of rich, arrogant, old men.”

  “And some poor, honest, middle-aged men,” Remy said, winking at her.

  “You’re not middle-aged yet. I’m still middle-aged and I’m older than you. Looks like your friend Tara just walked in.”

  Remy glanced up. Tara was headed for the buffet line and she was alone. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen him yet but he wasn’t waiting around to find out. He wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I think I’m going to head upstairs for a little R-and-R,” he said. “Daniel’s got the right of it. I’ll see you back in the conference room.”

  “You aren’t staying?” Marnie called after him but he didn’t look back.

  * * *

  Tara came into the dining room, blissfully alone. Her father had been overbearing all morning and had tried to drag her along to a lunch with some of the council members. She wasn’t in the mood for more of those old men and their grandstanding. She spotted Remy seated with one of the female Chiefs – Marnie she thought her name was. She hurried to get her food so she could join them. The line crawled forward as people ahead of her loaded up their plates. By the time she had her food and turned around, Marnie was sitting alone.

  Confused, Tara went over. “Excuse me,” she said. “Was Remy sitting with you?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “He went to lie down. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

  “Thanks.” She sat but her stomach was flip-flopping. She kept her eyes on her plate and ate even though she didn’t feel like it, acutely aware of Marnie’s eyes on her. She cleared her plate in record time, drained a glass of water, and stood. “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

  “Of course. Any time.” Marnie smiled at her. “Perhaps you can join us for dinner one evening.”

  “Perhaps.”

  As she walked through the hotel, she pulled out her phone and sent Remy a text. “Missed you at lunch today. I wanted to speak to you.” She returned to her seat in the conference room and waited, looking at her phone every thirty seconds or so. Soon the room began filling up. If Remy came in, she didn’t see. Francis called the afternoon session to order so she put her phone away and forced herself to focus. Her father was speaking this afternoon and that meant more work for her.

 

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