Tea or Consequences

by KC Burn

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter ONE

  Chapter TWO

  Chapter THREE

  Chapter FOUR

  Chapter FIVE

  Chapter SIX

  Chapter SEVEN

  Chapter EIGHT

  Chapter NINE

  Chapter TEN

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Chapter TWELVE

  More from KC Burn

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  About the Author

  By KC Burn

  Copyright

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  Tea or Consequences

  By KC Burn

  Riley Parker: temp, twink, geek… sleuth?

  Maybe Riley isn’t living up to his full potential, but being a temp executive assistant suits him. He’s never bored at work, he’s got friends who let him geek out, and he’s got a carefully crafted twink exterior… which might be getting constrictive now that he’s on the other side of thirty. Life isn’t perfect, but it’s comfortable.

  It all unravels when he takes a job working for a tea-obsessed cosmetics queen, the owner of Gautier Cosmetics. During the launch party for a new product, Riley finds his boss dead under suspicious circumstances, and the homicide detective is none other than Tadeo Martin, Riley’s high school obsession who never knew he was alive.

  Tad drafts Riley to get the scoop on the inner workings of Gautier, and for Riley, it’s like a drug. His natural inquisitiveness is rewarded with more and more Tad. Unfortunately, his snooping puts him in the running for two other roles: suspect and victim. The killer doesn’t care which.

  Chapter ONE

  FUCKING CLIMATE change. Riley Parker scowled at his reflection in the mirrored interior of the elevator. A furious sneezing fit had woken him up before his alarm and started everything on the wrong foot. An unseasonably warm April had unleashed a torrent of pollen, and Riley had been forced to break open the antihistamines. Even with the pharmaceutical assistance, congestion filled his head with cotton balls and he’d managed to miss his usual streetcar. He wasn’t late yet, but it was a near thing.

  The elevator rocked to a stop. He strode into the lobby of Gautier Cosmetics and dredged up a half smile for Alisha, the receptionist.

  “Good morning, Riley.” As always, Alisha was so cheery not even Riley’s bad mood was immune.

  “Morning, Alisha. How was your weekend?”

  “So-so.” Alisha rolled her eyes. “I had a blind date.”

  Riley grimaced. He’d been set up enough times to know that odds were the date had been a total shitfest.

  Alisha correctly read his expression. “Yeah, it was that awful. Free for lunch? I can tell you all about it. I swear, I could write a book.”

  “You could. Although it might put the rest of us off dating for life.”

  “Hey, if something good comes out of it….”

  Riley laughed. “Not sure about lunch. Mondays can be a bit of a nightmare.” Likely it would be even busier than normal since his boss, Gabrielle Gautier, president of Gautier Cosmetics, had been away since Wednesday and the inmates would be champing at the bit for a piece of her.

  “C’mon. Surely you can get away for even half an hour.”

  Riley let himself be persuaded. “I’ll do my best.”

  As he was a temp, nobody gave a shit who he had lunch with. He didn’t have to worry about political landmines or petty interpersonal wars. No one cared who socialized with him, and that was a great perk of his career choice. On the other hand, some people pretended the temp didn’t exist, or underhanded employees thought a temp at Riley’s level might know something useful, but Riley had been dealing with two-faced bastards since high school, and he could spot them a mile away.

  Alisha wasn’t like that.

  Due to his late start, Riley didn’t have time to chat. With a minute to spare, he made it to his desk. Or at least the desk of Gabrielle Gautier’s customary assistant, Aaron Brown.

  Just like every other morning since he’d started his contract at Gautier Cosmetics, Gabrielle was already in her office. After booting up his computer and scanning the shared calendars, Riley knocked and poked his head in.

  “Good morning.”

  “Bonjour, Riley.”

  “How was your long weekend?” Without a husband or young children to pressure her into it, Riley had been surprised Gabrielle had taken time off so close to the launch of their new product.

  “Perfection. Las Vegas is so stimulating.”

  Las Vegas? Never in a million years would he have guessed.

  “I haven’t been in a long time, but I liked it.” The week after graduation, he and his best friend, Shaun, had flown down and celebrated. They were lucky neither of them ended up getting alcohol poisoning, gay bashed, or arrested.

  “Riley, chéri, what does my schedule look like today?”

  “Busy as usual. You’re booked solid starting in about an hour until quitting time.” Riley’s quitting time, that was. Gabrielle got to the office before Riley and left after him. Yet another reason Riley much preferred his own career path.

  Gabrielle stood and paced by her desk before pausing in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. As high up as they were, the view was fantastic, and Riley didn’t know how she ignored it for hours on end. He might bitch sometimes about how many people Toronto held, but the city looked vibrant and beautiful, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to live anywhere else.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  Riley blinked. They’d occasionally spoken about personal topics like the difficulties of being a woman in her position, and the challenges of employing her extremely competitive children, but he’d never heard her speak about something quite so frivolous.

  “I certainly haven’t experienced it.” Hell, he hadn’t experienced love at all, but there’d been a boy in high school. A boy who’d turned Riley’s guts inside out whenever he was around. A boy who’d made Riley wave his gayness around like a beacon, trying to get a reaction. But that was hardly love. “I don’t know if I’d discredit it out of hand, though.”

  “Perhaps I am just a foolish old woman.”

  “Definitely not.” Gabrielle’s employees might use a number of unflattering adjectives to describe her, but foolish and old were not ones Riley had heard, nor would he ever be tempted to use them.

  Gabrielle sighed again before sitting down. Something wasn’t right. Gabrielle was a sophisticated, glamorous woman in her midfifties who’d built a thriving company while raising two children as a divorced single mother. She’d certainly earned the right to be tired, but this was the first time Riley had seen her look anything besides perfect.

  “Are you feeling well? Perhaps you should take the day off.” There would be screams of anguish from many departments, but Riley excelled at creating barriers to prevent access to his employers.

  Gabrielle answered with a half smile that did nothing to brighten the tinge of gray in her face. “Merci, mais non. I may have indulged too much this weekend. But it will pass.”

  Admitting weakness of any sort was out of character for a woman like Gabrielle, but there was something about being a temp with a nondisclosure agreement that made some people drop their walls.

  “Is there anything I can do? Run out for something special to eat?”

  This time Gabrielle’s smile was stronger. “You’re just a treasure, Riley. What would you think about staying on with me after your contract is up?”

  Riley respected the hell out of what she’d done with her company, she never asked for anything ridiculous or illegal, and he loved the direct commute on the King streetcar, but he doubted he’d accept her offer. He wasn’t about to refuse outright, t
hough. Despite the French endearments, Gabrielle was every bit as ruthless as any CEO he’d come across, often harsh even when she took her vice president of Finance and vice president of Development to task, who were her son and daughter, respectively.

  “You’ll feel differently once Aaron is back on his feet.” This wasn’t the first time Riley had said that, and he suspected he’d be saying it a few more times.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Should Aaron return, I can always find a position for him.”

  Riley wasn’t about to argue. “Anything else I need to know about today?”

  “I’ve got an appointment with my lawyer at eleven. We’ll be going to lunch afterward. Please rearrange my schedule to allow for that.”

  Shit. Between the short notice and the looming launch, rescheduling around three hours of meetings was going to be a nightmare. He’d faced worse, though.

  “Of course. I should get to work on your new schedule right away.”

  “Surely, chéri, you do not need to rush off immédiatement. Have a cup of tea with me. I think I’m going to need the fortification.”

  Riley desperately wanted to know what the meeting with the lawyer was about—not the first time his professionalism warred with insatiable curiosity.

  Metaphorically biting his tongue, Riley leaped to his feet to prepare tea. It had taken all of a day for him to realize Gabrielle’s “suggestions” were nothing less than cashmere-wrapped orders.

  Gabrielle might not have much time outside of the office to enjoy the finer things, but she hadn’t skimped on the tea tray in her office. Hidden in a cabinet made of the same mahogany as her desk and other furniture, Gabrielle’s tea caddy would make a barista swoon. Or… was there another name for tea aficionados? Riley didn’t mind tea, but tea preparation was almost an art where Gabrielle was concerned.

  Vendors, clients, associates—anyone who wanted to get or stay in Gabrielle’s good graces sent her teas from all over the world. To give Gabrielle her due, she sampled everything and quickly dispatched a thank-you note. She definitely had her favorites, which Riley wouldn’t use to wash dog shit off his shoes, but some of them he’d taken a liking to.

  As they relaxed back in their chairs, steaming cups by their sides, the dainty teacups terrifying in their delicateness, Riley waited for further instructions, but Gabrielle merely sipped at her tea, lost in thought.

  Riley cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if this isn’t any of my business, but is it weird owning a company with your ex-husband’s name on it?”

  Gabrielle stared at him for a moment before laughing. “Mais non, mon petit. Gautier is my name.”

  But that didn’t make sense.

  “Oh. Since François and Floriana are both Gautiers, I assumed that was your married name.”

  He could see Gabrielle returning to her maiden name after her divorce, but had she never been married at all?

  Gabrielle waved a hand. “In Quebec, it’s not permitted for women to take their husband’s name when they marry.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. It was a new law when I got married, but it made things a lot easier for me. My husband’s name was Hall. David Hall.” Her accent disappeared completely as she spoke her ex’s name in flat, nasally tones. She was clearly imitating an English speaker, but he didn’t know if that was just her standard anglophone accent or if she was mocking the man himself.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Gabrielle lifted a shoulder and took another sip of tea. “There is no music in that name. As for the children… mon Dieu, Gautier-Hall sounds like a horrific boarding school with delusions of pretentiousness. David allowed them to take my name, and it worked out perfectly for the business.”

  Riley took a giant mouthful of tea—almost draining the tiny cup—because he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. It was the twenty-first century, and the need for women to take their husband’s name as though they were some sort of chattel seemed unnecessary and old-fashioned, but he wondered if the unlyrically named David Hall had taken the naming of his children passively. Riley also wondered how François and Floriana felt about their mother’s dismissive attitude toward their father.

  “Do you think Floriana will keep her name if she marries?”

  In anyone else, the noise Gabrielle made would have been termed a snort, but her elegance tempered the sound into something equally disdainful and yet somehow still refined. “She will if she wants my approval.”

  Interesting. Gabrielle had a hint of an archaic tyrant in her. Riley glanced at his watch. It was about time for him to return to work if he was going to give her subordinates appropriate notice for changed meeting times.

  “Thank you for the tea, Gabrielle. Can I fix you another cup before I get back to my desk?” He’d learned early on that Gabrielle didn’t like the phrase get back to work. She didn’t see tea breaks as frivolous and claimed she did some of her best thinking with a cup of tea in her hand.

  “Non, merci.”

  Riley rose and made a move to take her teacup to bring it out to the kitchen for washing, but she moved her hand over it.

  “I may make another cup.” She drank far more tea than Riley fixed for her, and although he didn’t mind making tea when she had meetings—all part and parcel of being an assistant—he might be annoyed if she called him into her office every time she wanted a cup.

  Without another word, Riley left her office and ignored all the messages and emails in favor of getting Gabrielle’s calendar in order. She’d already blocked time for her meeting with Mr. Hanover, her lawyer, and it was merely a case of shifting all her conflicting meetings to other days and times. Then he shot a quick message to Alisha. With Gabrielle going out for lunch, Riley would be free to do the same.

  RILEY WAS back at his desk well before Gabrielle was scheduled to return from her lunch. The well-dressed older gentleman who’d proven to be Mr. Hanover had been quite attractive. Perhaps there was more going on than just business. Riley smiled to himself. He’d seen enough of Gabrielle’s volatile children to wonder how they’d deal with their mother having a romantic life.

  Taking advantage of Gabrielle’s absence, Riley slid into her office to check for dirty teacups. He gathered up three, the last one from her desk. Normally Gabrielle kept her desk tidy, so the stack of folders with pages partly hanging out was unusual. Also out of the norm—they were older files she’d apparently retrieved herself. If they were on her desk, though, they weren’t ready for filing, so he set the cups down and straightened out the pages. Peculiar wording on one caught his eye, and he flipped open the folder.

  Gabrielle’s will. Riley sucked in a breath and pressed a fist into his stomach. This explained the visit from the lawyer. Was she ill?

  The will had been signed over ten years ago. Riley slapped the folder shut. Without checking the terms—even he had to admit that was nosiness beyond the realm of decency—if he had to guess, it had been revised around the same time Gabrielle’s youngest, Floriana, had been hired by Gautier Cosmetics. Was she cutting one of her children out? Had Floriana actually ended up with an unsuitable boyfriend as he’d heard once or twice in the halls?

  It didn’t have to be bad. Maybe François’s wife was pregnant. Given Gabrielle’s extensive wealth and holdings, the arrival of a grandchild—her first—could easily be a reason to change or review her will.

  Enough, Riley! He gave himself a mental slap. He had far too much work to do for useless speculation. But he was nosy by nature, and he’d keep his eyes open for confirmation of… something.

  Once everything was tidy, he grabbed the delicate teacups and let himself out of Gabrielle’s office.

  “What are you doing sneaking around?”

  The harsh accusation made Riley jump, nearly sending the fine china to the floor. He whirled around to face the speaker: Floriana, early for her meeting with Gabrielle.

  Riley drew his shoulders back and announced in his haughtiest tones, “I was not sneaking. As you can see, I was
retrieving dirty teacups.” He brandished them at Floriana in case she’d missed them. “Otherwise known as doing my job.”

  Floriana gave him a little grimace but didn’t apologize. She didn’t like him, hadn’t from the first. Riley didn’t know why. Homophobic, perhaps, or resentful that Gabrielle relied on him. Or maybe she was just nuttier than peanut brittle.

  “Where’s my mother? I can’t believe you moved my meeting and then didn’t even bother responding to my email. I don’t want it changed. I have too much to do without you messing with my day. Don’t you know we’re only days from the most important launch of my career?”

  Riley took the teacups into the executive kitchenette around the corner, placed the cups in the sink, and returned. Floriana’s tirade didn’t let up for a moment.

  He sat at his desk and blinked innocently up at her. Probably he should have stayed in the kitchenette and washed the damn cups, but that might have been like tossing grain alcohol on her crazy wildfire.

  “Well? Where’s my mother? And who is this Hanover you gave preference?”

  “I rearranged her schedule at her request.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I’m well aware she won’t be pleased if you second-guess her decisions.”

  Floriana pressed her lips together, looking like she’d been force-fed a handful of sour Skittles.

  “And as for Mr. Hanover, if Gabrielle wants you to know about her other meetings, she can discuss them with you. I am not at liberty to do so.” Presumably he wasn’t one of the company lawyers, or anyone on regular retainer for Gautier Cosmetics.

  Floriana found her voice again, unfortunately. “Well, where is she now? I can’t wait about all day.”

  “At lunch. And you’re early.”

  “Lunch? Impossible. My mother would never slack off this close to a launch. Why are you lying?” If Floriana could spit venom, Riley would be dead right now.

  Riley had dealt with a number of irritating and unusual people over the course of his varied career, but Floriana was a bitter woman who spent her life competing with her mother and failing. Perhaps she’d have become a nicer woman if she hadn’t joined the family business.