* * * *
“She’s brave, you can’t deny that.” Armand was standing with his arms crossed over his chest while George held on to the back of a chair. “That took guts.”
“It was a bloody stupid thing to do.”
“She’s getting the hang of this. Of business.”
George stepped back, held his hands behind his back, and started pacing around the room. “You shouldn’t be putting her through this.”
Armand cocked his head to one side. “Putting her through what?”
“All of this. I don’t want her working by my side.”
“I think she’s done well.”
“She has.”
“What is it then?”
“She’s a woman, for heaven’s sake!”
“Is that your main concern? That she’s a woman? For some time you’ve been contemplating getting a partner and, well, since she’s good at what she does, I thought she would be perfect. Nobody would ever suspect her.” Armand tried to dismiss him, but George wouldn’t yield. “If she fails, we’ll send her to the cleaners.”
George stopped on his tracks and turned to Armand with a hint of consternation in his eyes. “You’d kill her?”
“No, I wouldn’t kill her myself, nor would I ask you to do it. I would send for someone else to do it, the cleaners, and that would be the end of it.” He said from behind his desk, as if he was talking about something as trivial as the weather.
“She gets along with everyone. Even Kaynard liked her.”
“Kaynard likes everyone.”
“Yes, but when we went to collect his payment, he invited her to his yacht, told her he would show her his place in Jamaica.”
Armand raised an eyebrow to that, leaning forward on his elbows, and muttered, “that son of a bitch.”
“I’ve seen her in action, Armand. I know she’s good, she’s a great shooter. We could use her as a hitman and no one would know, but she can also become our weakest link and there is no room for that here.”
“Only if we let her. And I trust you won’t let that happen.”
George sighed in frustration. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know I can count on you.”
“Should I tell her to bring your tea?”
“That would be very nice of you, George.” He watched George turn towards the door in silence.
He sat on his leather chair, pondering on what to do, how to proceed. This was new for him, all this. Even Scarlett herself was something he hadn’t experienced before. Thinking it through, he thought on taking the same advice he had given George: give her time. So he pulled out his mobile and started playing a game of solitaire while he waited for her to arrive with the tea.
The Caregiver (Book 1 of The Caregiver Series) Page 5