by Dianna Love
Henri could help her out by meeting her halfway.
“It’s neither here nor there,” Henri said, dismissing her explanation with a handful of words.
Evidently he was content to remain business associates.
She shouldn’t feel hurt, but why didn’t anyone else miss having her in their life the way she missed them? With the exception of her father, they’d all left.
Maybe it’s all me.
If that was the case, she was doomed to be alone, because she had no idea what she was doing wrong.
You have a temper with a micro fuse.
Right. There was that.
“What did you and Aram fight over this time, Valene?”
“Nothing, because Aram is not in on this deal. I have an exclusive.” She sure as hell hoped she did. “He doesn’t even know what I’m looking for and I’ve signed a nondisclosure so I have to be very careful with sharing information.”
“He claims to be looking for a scroll.”
Was it possible that Aram did know about the scroll, or had Mr. Smith gone to her sub-par competition to play both of them and see who came up with it first? That didn’t make sense if Smith really wanted to keep a lid on this.
“What scroll?” she asked carefully.
Henri smiled, a dazzling vision of perfection from his pearly-white teeth to the shape of his mouth. She’d always appreciated how stunning he was physically, but when she compared him with Dingo, she’d never wanted Henri the way she’d wanted Dingo. That bordered on addiction.
Dingo’s lips were completely different from Henri’s. A mouth meant to burn away all inhibitions.
It took more effort than it should have for her to dismiss that thought, but Henri helped out when he snipped, “Ah, well, if the scroll is not what you seek then please continue as it can only benefit me to have two potential clients in urgent need of an item.”
She counted to ten.
A total waste of time.
Dealing with Henri required the ability to count infinitely. It would only escalate once she dropped her next little bomb.
“I am looking for a specific scroll and I’ll give you the details, but you’ll have to sign a nondisclosure that covers you and anyone involved in the Lost Adventura shop.”
His calm dissolved beneath a flat gaze. “Are you questioning my integrity?”
“Never.”
“But you expect me to sign something to insure I don’t break client confidentiality.”
“Yes. I’m covering both my butt, and yours, because if anyone does leak word of this project it will not go well for the person who did. There’s a lot of money at stake.” Now was the time to spin the tables on Henri and make him come to her, plus ferret out whether Henri knew what scroll she was after. “If you’re not interested, just say so, and I’ll let you work out something with Aram.”
He lifted a finger to his chin, thinking.
Not so quick with the comebacks this time, huh? If they were playing chess, she’d have announced, “Check,” but gloating would be a dead giveaway that she felt on top of the negotiations.
Plus she was in no position to gloat when she was coming to him with her hand out.
Henri had known her a very long time, which meant he could pick up on a sign of what she was thinking, like flexing her jaw when she became anxious to get moving. Or when she tapped her fingers, even one, he’d know she was growing impatient.
Those were easy clues.
Dingo had learned her tells immediately and she was pretty sure he knew about some she hadn’t figured out yet.
But she and Henri had no secrets when it came to reading each other. She hoped the time apart had dulled his memory, but in case it hadn’t, she had to watch herself not to allow her pulse to race around him, because she had a vein in her neck that ticked with each beat of her heart. If she didn’t stay calm, he’d realize just how important it was to wrap him up as her resource for this scroll.
But she was prepared for his scrutiny this time.
She’d trained hard in Krav Maga for the past three years by trading for consultation. She’d located and negotiated the agreement on a seventeenth century sword for a Krav Maga instructor who couldn’t afford for her to handle the transaction if she’d charged him a fee. She hadn’t actually needed more defense training, but she had needed the inner calm that she’d gained in the middle of an emotional apocalypse.
Henri said, “I agree to sign your nondisclosure if I find the money acceptable. How much are we discussing?”
With anyone else, that would be the first tilt toward capitulation, but not for someone as shrewd as Henri. His agreement to sign a nondisclosure was as good as his word, which was stronger than any document, so she could sprinkle some details if need be.
What would be Henri’s flinch factor?
She would always treat him fairly, but it was clear he harbored as much resentment from the past as she did, though she couldn’t figure out why when he was the one who’d thrown in the proverbial towel first.
Regardless, there had been a time that she would have asked how much money he needed, figured that into the mix, and made it work for both of them. But times had changed and she couldn’t be cavalier with even a dollar.
Of the fifty thousand she’d received from Smith, ten was earmarked as deposit for the treatment. She could not touch that ten, but if she failed to deliver the scroll, that ten wouldn’t get her dad what he needed. She had to have enough money for things she hadn’t even encountered yet, that intangible unknown that could kill the best contract. “Five thousand now and five thousand later.”
Henri became very still, eyes giving away nothing.
Evidently that hadn’t tickled his money bone at all.
He stood. “You have wasted your drive and my time. Au revoir.” He walked briskly towards the back.
She pushed up from the sofa and followed him. “No wonder you have no clients if that’s the extent of your negotiating.”
“We are doing just fine,” he shouted, swinging around, eyes sparking with anger.
“Really? Is that why you’re in a prime laundromat location instead of the historic district?”
That silenced him.
Dammit. She hadn’t meant to snub his location.
Henri was brilliant, but he made decisions based on emotions. She’d always been the business mind in their partnership. Somewhere along the line, they’d stopped supporting each other and started attacking each other.
This was not how she’d planned to reunite with him on a business level.
She took a breath and said, “I’m sorry, Henri. I think your shop is really amazing. I didn’t mean to take a dig at it, or you. I’m just in a tight spot and I really need this contract and I wish you’d work with me on it.”
She was not going to bring her dad’s illness into this. Everybody had problems. She had no doubt that Henri had his own.
He put his hand at his collar, pinching it.
That was an Henri tell. He debated what to say.
His green eyes blinked away something she wanted to call moisture, but she had no idea why. He’d walked into their kitchen one morning just before their first anniversary and begun to calmly explain how their marriage had been a mistake and it was time that they both faced the truth.
How this change would be best for both of them.
Un-freaking-flappable Henri.
She hadn’t been quite as sanguine upon hearing his announcement.
A few dishes had gone flying.
He’d stood like a beacon in the midst of a screaming hurricane, waiting for her anger to blow itself out, then he’d returned to their bedroom and started packing.
The Henri standing before her now had aged in the last five years. His body might not show it, but his eyes gave away the toll life had taken on him.
“I will work with you, Valene, but I need significant funds as well. We do want to move from here to the historic area, which is eight times the square foo
t rate, but they have the traffic. I have five days left to either sign a new lease on this location or give notice that we will move in two months. In spite of what you think, there is someone waiting to lease this space. I must make this move, because this place is causing me much grief.”
Those were the most heartfelt words she’d heard from him since he’d shared a secret with her in eleventh grade. She’d held his confidence and had protected him as much as he’d protected her from mean hormonal girls and pushy testosterone-loaded boys.
Her shoulders lightened as one of the chips she’d been toting around tumbled off. She reached out to touch his shoulder. “I want to help you and I will, but I need you to work with me. I’ve been offered a lot of money for this, but delivering the scroll comes with a very short time frame. If I don’t come through, I could end up having to pay back money I’ve already spent.”
Henri jerked his head and cursed vividly in French. “But why would you, someone who is revered in our business, do such a thing?”
Nothing to hide now that she felt exposed, but she warmed at his compliment. “I don’t have a choice. I need the money for something personal, something important.”
He angled his head, thinking. “Is your dad–”
“I’m not talking about it. This is business. I want you to make money, too. How much do you need to move to the historic area?”
“Thirty thousand, give or take some.”
“Here’s the God’s truth. I can give you five thousand now and, if I complete this contract successfully, then I’ll pay you the other twenty-five. But I can’t guarantee anything. I only committed to the second five thousand a moment ago because I’d sell my car before I’d stiff you anything I personally guarantee. This is a huge deal that might result in more referrals from higher up.” He had no idea how high up. “I wasn’t insulting you over the nondisclosure. I really am trying to protect you because of who I’m dealing with, but I can’t share everything.”
Now, she sounded like Dingo saying, “I’m doing this to save you but I can’t tell you everything.”
Did she really need to bring him into this? No.
Henri shouted, “Sacré bleu, Valene! Who do you make this deal with?”
“He’s–”
Fifteen feet away, the door to the back room opened and a man said, “Are you all right, Henri?”
She turned with Henri to face a man who could be twenty-five or thirty-five. It was impossible to tell from his beautiful face that bordered on delicate and blue eyes that belonged in Hollywood. A head of blond wavy hair curled around his face.
“I am fine, Geoffrey.” Then Henri’s gaze flitted from Geoffrey to Valene. Silence and tension crackled in those sluggish seconds.
Valene’s gaze locked with Geoffrey’s, two warriors sending eye messages that they were ready to do battle.
Henri hurried to fill the void by saying, “This is my ... Ms. Eklund.”
Valene had hurt Henri once and decided now would be a good time to be that bigger person, but words rushed up her throat and slammed to a halt behind her clenched teeth.
That man had stolen her one true friend in life.
Geoffrey’s gaze danced from her to Henri. “This is the one?”
Henri appeared embarrassed when he muttered, “Oui.”
When Geoffrey’s gaze swung back to Valene, she stiffened at his critical assessment. “What are you doing here? Slumming?”
So he did know who she was. “Thank you.”
Blond hair bounced when he cocked his head. “Why are you thanking me?”
“I was searching for the right word and there you had it.”
“Va-lene,” Henri warned.
Her gaze snapped to him. “What? I was being nice. Your better half is the one with the attitude.”
“I see why he left you,” Geoffrey lashed out.
“Geoffrey!” Henri snapped before Valene could form a retort. “She is a client. We will treat her as such.”
“You may be willing to lower your standards, but I’m not.” Geoffrey slammed the door, sucking all the renewed friendship from the room.
She snarled, “You left me for him?”
Henri looked appalled. “Don’t act surprised. You knew I was bisexual.”
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t care if you married a him, a her, or a giraffe, but when you left you told me you couldn’t take my outbursts. I got too emotional. I had a temper that exploded.” He’d also said she was too distant, gone too much and too numb to hold up her half of any relationship.
Henri ran his hands through his stylish hair, sending the short, deep-red locks shooting in different directions, and muttering, “I ask myself every day what I was thinking. You drove me crazy. Now he drives me crazy.”
Call it a character flaw, but for the first time since they’d separated, Valene felt better. Someone hadn’t succeeded where she’d failed. She wasn’t wishing for Henri to be unhappy, but she’d heard over and over through friends in the business that Henri was so full of joy and content these days.
All she could think was how he hadn’t been happy at all for the last few months of their marriage. They’d spent the first part of that year consoling each other through the emotional hell of Henri’s cousin’s suicide and Valene’s father being diagnosed with stage-three lung cancer, probably from the crap he’d inhaled on archaeological sites.
And Dingo had abandoned her.
She’d been a hot mess for a long time.
Henri brushed his hair back with a sweep of his hand. “I did not meet him while you and I were together.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you had behaved with a lack of morality. I would never think that. It was...I was just... angry.”
His chuckle rippled with sadness. “I know. It seems that I am without skills to make anyone happy no matter what I sacrifice.”
She realized right then that Henri was desperate to move this shop to the historic district for Geoffrey. She wasn’t at all glad that the two men were having issues and felt like scum on the bottom of a shoe for adding to his troubles.
“Let’s make a deal to work together, Henri, so that with a little luck we’ll both come out good on this.”
The smile he gave her this time was the first sincere one she’d earned from him in a long time. “I will do whatever I can and I know that you’ll be fair with me on the money.”
“Thank you.” She let out a long breath of relief. One hurdle cleared.
“I’ll sign your form before you leave. Tell me about this scroll.”
She brightened up at the first sign that this was going to work out after all. “You aren’t going to believe this because I’d never heard of it in all my years of studying seventeenth-century writings.”
His eyebrows climbed at that.
She nodded and grinned. The excitement of the hunt sent adrenaline rushing through her. “You know that Galileo was put under house arrest after he was brought before the pope for–”
Henri made a rolling motion with his hand. “Yes, yes. As you would often say, give me the bullet points.”
She laughed at that and Henri’s eyes twinkled. Maybe they could repair what their marriage had destroyed. She explained, “Galileo supposedly wrote on a scroll–”
“That is not news,” he muttered, at once disappointed.
She put a hand on her hip. “This is why we butted heads before.”
French curses spewed again then he motioned with his hands to keep going and ordered her, “Finish.”
She grumbled, “Don’t interrupt.” After scratching her head for a moment to clear her thoughts, she explained, “This scroll was never out of the Vatican until now.”
At his stunned silence, she gave him a look of see? Then she told him the one element that would fine-tune their search. “This scroll supposedly is what he wrote about visions he had associated with the Orion star configuration, best that I can figure from what I was told. And the scroll includes a star map.”
“Galileo would not have admitted to having visions,” Henri whispered, thinking out loud. “He’d been condemned for his beliefs about the solar system. This sounds like a fraud.”
“You’ll have to trust me that this scroll does exist and please don’t ask me to tell you more than I have to, because–”
“I know, I know... you protect me.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“This sounds risky, Valene.”
True, but telling him she was just a little terrified would only make him nervous on top of his other problems. “I’ll be the one taking any risk. Weren’t you the one who said all great things come with risk?”
“Do not turn my words on me. What else can you tell me?”
“The name of the scroll is Profezia di Orione.”
Henri’s eyes flared for a second at that.
Valene asked, “Do you know about this?”
“No.”
She would actually have been worried if he’d said yes. “Here’s the kicker. I only have five days to deliver the scroll.”
He lifted a hand to his forehead and walked around in a circle.
Valene began to have true concern. This was Henri’s way of saying he had bad news. “What is it, Henri?”
“We have a gifted historian whose specialty is all things Galilean.”
“I know. Geoffrey.” She urged, “Don’t you have some pull with him?”
“About as much as I had with you. I have a bad habit of choosing hardheaded partners.”
“I am nothing like him,” she said, then regretted sounding as if she’d criticized Henri’s new partner. “What I mean is–”
Henri held up a hand. “Please. I know exactly what you mean, because you are correct. You two differ greatly in one point. I never worry that he will be off doing something dangerous.”
She had no argument for that.
Henri had walked the floor many times when she was late returning from meeting a new client who could have turned out to be a mass murderer.
“Geoffrey is also sensitive and the jealous type. He has never been interested in women so my past relationship with you threatens him. He believes he will not meet some unrealistic standard he has envisioned.”