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The Midnight Club

Page 11

by Love, Michelle


  She just hoped the other shoe wasn’t about to drop.

  Maceo was surprised to see Alex at the gallery when he and Ori returned after their vacation. Alex was chatting to Lucia when the couple arrived, and Alex hugged them both. Maceo bore him off to his office while Ori stayed behind to talk to her friend.

  “You look wonderful,” Lucia said admiringly. “Naples and Maceo obviously agree with you.”

  Ori chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.” She lowered her voice. “Why’s Alex here again?”

  Lucia shrugged. “I think he feels lost and wants to be around his friends.”

  “Doesn’t he have a job?”

  Lucia smiled. “When you’re as rich as Alex, other people do your work for you. Besides ...” She studied her friend. “Don’t you like him?”

  “Of course, I do,” Ori rolled her eyes, flushing slightly. “It’s just when he looks at me, I feel as if he’s not seeing me, you know?”

  Lucia rubbed her back. “Hardly surprising, but don’t worry about it. Alex is one of the good guys.”

  Ori nodded, sitting down at her desk and hesitating before calling up a website on her laptop. “Have you seen this?”

  She showed Lucia the news story. Her stepfather was really milking the death of his son; now Tyson was publicly accusing the facility where AJ had died of neglect and wrongful death. “My son’s death won’t be in vain if I can stop these jokers from telling vulnerable people that they can help them. Where’s the regulation? Where’s the training?”

  “Oh God,” Lucia groaned. “Is it possible that your stepfather could become more of an asshole, or has he reached his limit?”

  “Oh, there’s no limit on it,” Ori said through gritted teeth. “Look, I’m going to say something. I’m tired of Tyson blaming everyone else for his own failures.”

  Lucia looked worried. “Ori … are you ready to go up against him? I mean, really ready? Because he’ll try to destroy you.”

  “Let him try,” said Ori defiantly, lifting her chin. “Both he and I know I could bring him down once and for all. I won’t play my whole card, just enough to irk him. Give him enough rope, etc. It won’t be hard.”

  Lucia mulled this over. “Ori … have you told Maceo what you intend to do? Not that you have to,” she added hurriedly, as Ori frowned at her.

  Ori sighed. “I have. He’s not happy about it, but I have to do something for myself. I won’t hide behind Maceo’s position or wealth. It’s up to me to take Tyson down. For AJ, if nothing else.”

  “Seems like you could do with someone on the East Coast to help out.” Both women started as Alex spoke; neither had seen him return. He smiled at Ori. “I could be your conduit, Ori. It might help you not to be in the same country as that asshat, but I can keep an eye on his movements.”

  Ori half-smiled. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Alex.”

  “No problem. Hey, look, Maceo says he’s busy this morning. How about I swing by later and take you two ladies out for lunch?”

  Ori hesitated, but Lucia nodded eagerly. “Yes, please. I could do with some distraction.”

  “I’ll pick you up at twelve.”

  At half-past eleven, Ori had caught up with her work and went to see Maceo. She updated him on progress for the exhibit as he watched her, smiling. Finally, she looked at him through narrowed eyes.

  “What are you looking at, Mr. Bartoli?”

  Maceo grinned. “The woman I love. Just remembering how I made you purr like a cat this morning.”

  Ori laughed. “You have a one-track mind. Speaking of your woman, your woman is going to lunch with another man. How come your woman isn’t being taken to lunch by you?”

  Maceo looked repentant. “Rufus called from Oh Mio Mio. He wants to come by at twelve to talk about a possible collaboration.”

  Ori was impressed. Rufus Armando was one of Italy’s foremost gallery owners. If Maceo could land a collaboration, it would be a huge get.

  Maceo was watching her. “You don’t mind going out with Alex, no?”

  “Of course not, baby...” She got up and leaned over the desk to kiss him. “Alex is a friend. Besides,” she flashed him a breast, making him laugh, “better you don’t have me all day … makes the anticipation even sweeter.”

  Maceo growled at her. “Damn, woman. I don’t need to have wood before my meeting.” They both laughed and Ori stood, rearranging her blouse. Maceo stood to walk her out, kissing cheek and using the opportunity to murmur in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you stupid later, mio caro.”

  “You’d better,” she said silkily, cupping his semi-hard cock through his pants. God, would she ever get enough of this man?

  A half hour later, she was seated in a little trattoria with Lucia and Alex and remembering Maceo’s kiss. Lucia and Alex were chatting amiably and Ori took the opportunity to study Alex. He was slightly taller than Maceo’s six-two, but they had the same dark hazel-green eyes and intense brooding look. Alex’s hair was slightly lighter, closely cropped, vague militaristic, and his broad shoulders and slim hips meant he wore his expensive suit well. She could imagine him being a virile and strong lover … god, what was she thinking? But there was no doubt that he had a feral, animalistic sensuality beneath that calm, silent exterior. For a second, Ori let herself imagine Alex in bed … She wondered if he ever let a woman take charge in bed like Maceo did, and whether Alex was ever that generous. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine it.

  She shook herself. Jesus, the man has just buried his lover, Orianthi Roy, and you’re imagining what? Being fucked by him? You’re in love with Maceo, for crying out loud!

  Ori felt herself blushing and—just her luck—Lucia happened to glance at her at that moment. “You okay?”

  Ori tried to laugh her embarrassment off. “Hot flash,” she quipped. “Must be my age.”

  Lucia laughed, but Alex studied her. “You’re all of what? Twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-eight.” Given what she’d been thinking about, Ori could barely look him in the eye.

  “Same age as Viola,” Alex murmured, and Ori felt bad for him.

  “I’m so sorry, Alex...” She leaned over and patted his hand, and he gripped hers for a second, squeezing her fingers.

  “Thanks. Sorry. I didn’t think; that was insensitive.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Lucia said, much to Ori’s gratitude. The mood had changed at the table now. “Viola was part of our family; we all miss her, Alex.”

  Ori smiled at him. “I wish I had known her.”

  “Me too; you would have liked each other...” Alex cleared his throat. “I’m waiting for the day when talking about her isn’t painful, or no longer causes people to feel weird around me.”

  “I don’t know about the pain part,” Ori said gently, “but I think we should talk about her, for your benefit and to honor her. Why should the mention of her name be a cause of embarrassment or awkwardness? That’s not the sum of her life. Talk to me, Alex. Talk to us about your life together. Celebrate it. I certainly won’t talk about AJ just in terms of his death.”

  She hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but at that moment Ori felt it was the right thing to say—and she believed it, too. “We may not have known each other long,” she said to him now, “but I would like us to be friends, Alex.”

  Alex smiled at her. “Same here, Ori. Thank you. And you’re right; we should celebrate them.”

  Lucia watched as her two friends talked, glad they had found common ground. There was only a very slight concern that sat in her chest as she watched them. The way he looks at her. Lucia had no doubt that Ori was totally and irrevocably in love with Maceo and, despite her initial misgivings, she seemed now to be trying to bond with Alex.

  But Alex was in mourning, deep mourning, for a woman who resembled Ori more than a little. Viola had been sweet, kind, and loving, and, still, someone had murdered her. Did the person who had killed her want some kind of revenge on Alex? Would being his friend put Ori in more danger than she already w
as?

  And why was she, Lucia, more terrified than anything that Alex might fall for her friend?

  Tyson Janek listened to the dull reports he got daily of Ori’s whereabouts, about her daily goings on. She was protected, no doubt, and Janek’s own rising profile meant he could not go to her without raising suspicion.

  He had a plan, however, but he would need her to come back to the States to execute it. Should she come here, he could have her abducted and taken to the secret compound in the Louisiana swamplands. She would be totally at his mercy. He could spend days there fucking her and torturing her before he killed her. It would be days of sadistic pleasure before he dumped her body into the swamp to make it disappear forever. He imagined her beautiful eyes open and sightless, staring up at the sky as her blood-drenched body sank slowly into the murky water; the thought of it kept him going.

  But she never came to America. Oh, she traveled, mostly to Paris or other European cities, and always, always with Maceo Bartoli and his huge and highly trained security team. Untouchable. Not forever, my darling Ori, not forever …

  The minute she stepped foot on American soil, she was a dead woman walking. He would see to that …

  His party had recalled him to the front seats again, AJ’s death having absolved him, it seemed, of all his indiscretions. There were even whispers of the V.P. slot on the next ticket, whispers he intended to make rallying calls. But Ori could bring that all down—even if her claims of his abuse were dismissed, just the mere mention of them would lead to his downfall. Tyson wondered if Bartoli had told Ori about his abuse of AJ. From how aggressive Maceo had been with him the day Ori was attacked, Tyson thought not. But maybe he should have …

  If Ori knew that Tyson had raped his own son, she would go ballistic and become reckless. Maybe she would come after him here in the States.

  Tyson began to smile. It was risky, yes, but maybe, just maybe, Maceo Bartoli could deliver Ori right into Tyson’s hands …

  A month after they had begun to sleep together, Shiloh was still waiting for the punchline. How was it that the untamable Benoit Vaux would be happy with a woman like her? It didn’t help that the newspapers had gotten hold of the story and now she was followed by paparazzi everywhere.

  She had been offered a new position at a human right’s law firm, a junior assistant, and, grateful for the job, she had taken to the job at once. Her first love would always be the environment and her city, but she found a new love here, working to keep asylum seekers in the country, helping them to save their families.

  At night she would meet Benoit and, over dinner, they would share their day, then go to his penthouse or her studio and make love. Shiloh found it wonderfully relaxing to be in his company, except she wondered if this life was as exciting as he needed. They had settled into a pattern, and Shiloh was constantly worried he would get bored of her.

  When he asked her to fly to Venice with him, however, she was thrilled. “I’d like you to meet my friends,” he told her.

  Ah, the elusive Midnight Club. She had heard about them from Benoit and, from his tone, she knew they were his brothers-in-arms, his family. Benoit, knowing she would frown upon him using his private jet, flew them using standard airlines—but business class, of course. When Shiloh looked disapproving, he shrugged unrepentantly. “The plane would be flying whether we were here or in coach,” he said, and she couldn’t argue with him.

  Venice was a revelation to her, and she fell in love with the city almost as soon as she saw it. Benoit had booked an incredible suite at a luxury hotel and arranged for a local designer to bring Shiloh some spectacular gowns.

  He was watching her change now, grinning lazily as she poked her tongue out at him. “Come zip me up,” she said, shrugging into a midnight blue dress. But instead of zipping her up, he let the dress fall to the floor and tumbled her onto the bed. Shiloh giggled at his mischievous smile as he removed first her bra, then her panties, and hitched her legs around his waist.

  “You are insatiable,” she sighed, then gasped as he launched his cock into her, ramming his hips against hers. His lips found hers hungrily and she moved in rhythm with him, her fingernails digging into his buttocks, urging him deeper, harder…

  They were late to the restaurant and, by Maceo’s Bartoli’s grin, their friends had all guessed why. Shiloh flushed as she was introduced to Maceo, Ori, and Alex. “My date is also late,” Alex said, then looked over to the door. “But there she is.”

  He waved at another young woman. “That’s Lucia,” Ori said to Shiloh. “She’s being Alex’s friend-date for this evening. She and I have known each other since college.”

  Shiloh warmed to both of the young women immediately. Benoit had warned her about Alex’s recent bereavement, but he seemed steady enough. Maceo was a joker, she thought to herself, but he was clearly head over heels for Ori.

  The meal passed quickly, and Shiloh could not have imagined a more pleasant bunch of people to be around. The food was exquisite and, when they all moved to the lounge for drinks afterward, she found herself relaxing in the opulence around her. Truly, she could not have anticipated a year ago, that she would be here with a man like Benoit. Their whole relationship had been a whirlwind.

  She swallowed over the discomfort that was sitting in her chest. Shiloh had a secret, something she did not want to tell Benoit—not yet, not to spoil all of this. She was falling for him—hard—and yet something was holding her back.

  Her law firm had been so impressed with her that they had offered her a chance of a lifetime defending human right’s abuses in Africa. It would mean moving to the country for however long it took, which meant she would have to put her life on hold. Her life with Benoit.

  The trouble was … she couldn’t see a way to have her cake and eat it. A man like Benoit would not wait for her forever, and why should he? But Shiloh knew that this was the career break she had been waiting for; she could not, in all conscience, decline it.

  So, she was doing what she knew best— sticking her head in the sand. Her firm had given her a month to consider and so, right here, right now, she was enjoying her time with Benoit.

  She had tried talking it over with Liv and Heloise, but Liv was a romantic, and Heloise … well, it hadn’t been the same between them since that awkward confrontation at the apartment. Shiloh’s heart ached for her old college roommate, especially now, seeing Ori and Lucia so close.

  When Benoit was deep in conversation with Maceo and Alex, Ori leaned over to Shiloh. “Are you okay? You seem distracted. Tell me to mind my own business if you like, but if you need to talk ….”

  Shiloh smiled gratefully. “Thank you, but not here.”

  Ori squeezed her hand. “During the week, then. We’ll go for lunch?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  Ori typed her number into Shiloh’s phone. “Anytime,” she told her, and smiled.

  Later, when Shiloh and Benoit had returned to their suite, they sat out on the balcony that looked over Venice’s lagoon.

  “This really is a magical place,” Shiloh sighed, and Benoit nodded.

  “It is. Did you have a good time tonight, ma chére?”

  Shiloh grinned at him. “Oui, monsieur. Your friends are wonderful. I liked Ori very much. Lucia, too.”

  Benoit nodded. “Maceo is a lucky man. I think Alex has a little crush on Ori.”

  “I saw that too. What’s his story?”

  Benoit told her about Viola, and she was appalled. “That’s too awful.”

  “Isn’t it? Now it looks like the killer is targeting Ori.”

  “God.”

  “Quite. Look, let’s change the subject. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Shiloh smiled at him. “Nothing much. Just wondering how Beau is doing. Liv spoils him when she looks after him. I’ll come home to a rounded pooch.”

  It was weak, but Benoit seemed to accept that and Shiloh sighed gratefully. There was no way she was going to ruin their vacation
by telling him about the job. Benoit stood and pulled her into his arms.

  “Come to bed,” he murmured, his rich, deep voice sending thrills through her. As they made love, Shiloh could not imagine giving this up for anything or for anyone. Benoit made love to her slowly, carefully, but as he drove her relentlessly towards orgasm, she suddenly felt like crying. Why does life always come down to choices and compromise? she thought. She hid her tears until she was sure he was asleep, then let them fall unchecked.

  I’m in love with you, damn it. And I have no idea how to let you go …

  It wasn’t often that Ori caught Maceo in a serious mood but lately he had been more pensive than she had ever seen him. It made her nervous. Was he tiring of her? She hoped beyond hope that he wasn’t and, in her heart, she knew that wasn’t it. But sometimes she awoke at night to find him at the window staring out unseeing, lost in thought. She was determined to find out and help him get past it.

  So, she had come up with a plan. Shock him into giving it up. A few nights after the dinner with the friends, they were sitting on his couch watching an old movie, when she spoke up.

  “Maceo … I know something is wrong, and if it’s that there’s another woman, I’d rather you just tell me. Even it’s just that you’re tired of me.”

  Maceo sat up and stared at her with wide eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Ori smiled at him. “I’m just worried; there’s something bothering you, and it’s driving me crazy not knowing.”

  Maceo sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Bella, it’s not another woman, I swear, and believe me when I say I will never, ever get tired of you. Ever.”

 

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