Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series

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Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series Page 2

by Alexandrea Weis


  “Another good day,” Ellie spoke up from her table beside Melinda.

  “Yes, the crowds were bigger than last weekend.”

  Melinda regarded a couple holding hands to Ellie’s left. They were smiling into each other’s eyes and as they strolled along, her heart became heavy with memories.

  “Who died?” Jack appeared in front to her table, cracking an irksome grin. “Let me guess. You’re thinking about that idiot Josh again, right?” He pointed to her. “Every time you get that sad look on your face, you’re thinking about that asshole.”

  Melinda defiantly stuck out her chin. “Just because you’ve never been in love, Jack, there’s no need to attack those of us who’ve had our hearts broken.”

  Jack folded his arms, looking smug. “What makes you think I’ve never been in love?”

  “Here we go again,” Ellie griped.

  Melinda swept her hand down Jack’s trim figure. “The only time you mention anything about a woman, you either brag about getting her into bed or about her enormous physical dimensions. I swear, if they could float a pair of giant balloon boobs in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, you and half the men in America would finally think you’d found the perfect woman.”

  “Really? Is that what you think?” Jack raised his voice. “Well, at least I’m having sex, Maddie. When exactly was the last time you did?”

  “Guys?” Ellie called next to them.

  Melinda grabbed the moneybag from her lap and stood from her chair. “You conceited, arrogant, immature ass. I’m not like you. I’m not trying to screw everything within a ten-mile radius.”

  “Your problem is you don’t screw anyone, Maddie. Maybe if you did get laid you’d stop comparing every man you meet to Mr. Love-of-my-life-Josh.”

  “Guys!”

  Melinda and Jack stopped arguing and turned to Ellie. She was standing in front of her table, motioning to an attractive man in a gray suit.

  “I think you have a client, Melinda,” Ellie told her.

  “Mr. Cole.” Melinda bit down on her lower lip. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “Now I know why you wore the makeup,” Jack whispered to her.

  Melinda elbowed him in the ribs.

  The elegant Nathan Cole dipped his head to Melinda. “I was in the Quarter having lunch with a business colleague, so I thought I would stop by for a reading.”

  That familiar tickle rose in Melinda’s gut. The funny feeling always happened whenever Nathan Cole appeared. As his long legs effortlessly strode across the cobblestones to her side, Melinda observed his brown, bedroom eyes, drinking in the curves beneath her T-shirt and blue jeans.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Nathan seductively purred as he glanced from Melinda to Jack.

  Melinda could not help but notice how rumpled Jack appeared next to the pristine and pressed Nathan Cole. She veered her eyes to the square face and distinguished brow of the successful businessman. He had an air about him that oozed confidence while his brown, wavy hair, sprinkled with a faint smattering of gray, made him appear distinguished.

  “Mr. Cole, you remember my friend Jack Deron.”

  “I told you before to call me Nathan, Melinda … and yes, I remember Jack.” Nathan looked Jack up and down. “You’re the other psychic who works with Melinda.” He held out his hand to him.

  Jack took Nathan’s hand and feigned an indulgent smile. “Yeah, Maddie and I both work the Square.”

  Nathan raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Maddie?”

  “Jack calls me Maddie. It’s his silly nickname for me.”

  Jack glowered at her. “You never told me you thought it was silly before.”

  “Jack, why don’t you buy me a coffee, eh?” Ellie suggested behind them. “We can leave Nathan and Melinda to their reading.”

  Jack’s eyes suspiciously lingered on Nathan. “Sure, Ellie. Let me just pack up my table.” He faced Melinda and added, “You do your reading, and I’ll be back to walk you home when you’re done.”

  Ellie came alongside Jack and tugged at his arm. “Come on, son, I’ll help you put your table in the storage closet.”

  Ellie coaxed Jack away from Melinda’s table. After they were out of earshot, Nathan released a long, disgruntled sigh.

  “Intense young man.”

  “He’s harmless.”

  “He seems very protective of you.” Nathan studied her for a moment. “Are you two involved?”

  Melinda took a seat behind her table. “No. Jack’s more like a big brother. My brothers back home were always protective of me, especially when other boys came around the farm.”

  He undid the buttons on his suit jacket and took the chair across from her. “Ah, yes, your family’s farm in Mississippi. I remember you telling me about that.”

  Melinda was taken aback. “I’m surprised you remembered. No one ever remembers anything I tell them, except when I’m doing a reading. Most of the time I feel invisible to people.”

  Nathan leaned closer to the table. “You’ve never been invisible to me.”

  Shaken by his lustful gaze, Melinda snapped up the deck of cards from the table. “So what do you want to ask me about today, Nathan? Some business speculation you’ve been considering, or a stock market investment perhaps?”

  He sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “I’ve been invited to participate in a rather interesting business venture in the city. There will be a lot of obstacles to overcome, but if I pull it off, the payout will be phenomenal.”

  Melinda set the tarot cards in front of him. “Then why don’t you divide the deck in—”

  Nathan clasped her hands. “Why don’t we do it this way? No cards, no palm reading, you just sit there and tell me what you feel.” His hands squeezed hers.

  Unhinged by the gesture, Melinda gasped. Then a rush of heat from her groin silenced her apprehension. Intermingled with the heat was an unexpected tingle of electricity. Taking in his sharp features, broad chest, and tapered hands, Melinda fought to retain her composure.

  “Nathan, I’m not used to doing it this way.”

  “Try, Melinda. Just tell me what you feel.”

  The heat from his hands was fanning the spark of lust in her belly.

  “Sure, Nathan.” She closed her eyes and let the noise around her fade into the background as her visions rose to the surface in her mind’s eye. “I see an old building with two tall, round bricked chimneys, next to the river. Some place that was once a power plant. There are others involved with you. You need to be careful. They’re not to be trusted.” Melinda opened her eyes. “But you already knew that. You didn’t come here to ask me about this venture.” She tilted her head to the side. “You want to know if you’ll come out on top. If you’ll destroy the corrupt men involved and be able to pursue this development without them.”

  Nathan grinned, appearing pleased. “And will I win?”

  Melinda pulled her hands away as a vision of pain, fear, and a field of shallow graves crossed before her eyes. Floored by what she had just seen, Melinda tried to put the pieces together.

  “Will I win, Melinda?” Nathan persisted, bringing her away from her vision.

  “Yes … but there will be a great cost to you.” Melinda rubbed her hands together, feeling an unearthly chill encroaching on her energy. “You may not like the outcome, Nathan.”

  “As long as I come out on top, I’ll take whatever fate throws at me.” He sat back in his chair, studying her for several seconds. “You’re a very unique woman, Melinda Harris. I could use someone with your skills on my staff. How would you like to come and work for me?”

  “Me?” She almost fell out of her chair. “I can’t do anything but play the piano and write music.”

  “You can see the future, and you’re very good at reading people. I could use someone who can read my friends, as well as my enemies. You could let me know who to trust and who to get rid of.”

  Melinda placed her hands on the table and looked Na
than squarely in the eye. “What exactly do you do, Nathan? You’re always asking me about business ventures, real estate developments, or investments, but I can never quite see an office building or a business you actually run.”

  Nathan’s fingertips lazily stroked the green cloth on her table. “That’s because I don’t have an office building. I work out of my home. I speculate about certain opportunities and hook the people with the money up with the people providing the opportunity.”

  “Is that legal?”

  Nathan laughed, and for a moment Melinda was jarred by the deceptive tone of his deep chuckle. It didn’t sound like it came from his heart. When Nathan Cole laughed, she swore he was hiding something.

  “I assure you, it’s perfectly legal. Finding the right person with money to pair with the right investment is a fine art. You have to know how to listen to your clients and be able to see potential in an old warehouse building or large empty lot.” He perused the shadowy cobblestoned street around them. “New Orleans is a city full of potential and still coming back from Katrina. It’s a virtual cornucopia of opportunity for men such as myself. If you know the right people.”

  “And you know the right people, don’t you? The mayor, several city council members, along with a few notable, wealthy New Orleanians. I’ve seen you pictured with them in the newspaper.”

  A breeze brushed a comma of thick hair across his forehead. “Yeah, I know the right people. I came to New Orleans after Katrina, hoping to make some money on the cleanup. One thing led to another, and I got involved with a few developments, which led to bigger and better things. Here I am, ten years later, a very wealthy and well-connected man.”

  She fidgeted in her chair, uncomfortable with his penetrating stare. “Then why not quit while you’re ahead?”

  “What can I say? I’m greedy. I want more, and I love playing the game.” Nathan casually shrugged his very broad shoulders. “But I’m getting to a point in my life where I want one last big score to set me up forever. So if I choose to speculate again on anything, it will be for fun, not necessity.”

  Melinda was all too familiar with the deadly sin of greed. She had seen it hidden in the hearts and minds of all those she had read, crouched away in the darkness like a thief awaiting his next victim.

  “You’ll always get what you want, Nathan.”

  Nathan rose from his chair. “What about you? Do you always get what you want, Melinda?” He reached into his front jacket pocket.

  Melinda stood up, shaking her head. “Not usually. It seems every time I set out to get what I want, something or someone else comes along and takes it away.”

  Nathan took a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet. “What’s her name?”

  “Who?”

  “The one who stole the man you wanted … Mr. Love-of-my-life-Josh.” He handed her the money.

  She evaded his dark eyes. “I’ll get your change.”

  “You keep the change.”

  She glanced back at him. “That’s very kind of you.”

  “Consider it a bribe.” He placed his wallet back in his suit jacket. “I want you to come and work for me. I can pay you well and help get you out of Jackson Square.”

  Melinda crinkled her brow. “What’s wrong with the Square?”

  “You can do better. If you come and work for me, you can get out of that ratty apartment you live in on St. Ann and spend more time on your music.”

  A trickle of trepidation tightened her gut. “How do you know where I live?”

  Nathan retrieved a white business card from his inner jacket pocket. “I like to know who I’m dealing with, whether I can trust them and share my secrets with them. Think about my offer. I know you and I would be good together.” He handed her the card. “My cell number is on the back when you’re ready to talk.”

  Melinda took the card and gleaned the number. “I’m happy where I am, Nathan.”

  “Are you? I don’t see it that way.”

  She peered up at him. “Really? What do you see?”

  His deep brown eyes warmed over with concern. “I see a woman who wants more out of life, but isn’t quite sure how to get it. I can help you get what you want, Melinda, but you have to help me in return.”

  Melinda pocketed the card in her jeans. “I promise to think about it.

  Nathan smiled, and Melinda’s stomach danced with excitement.

  “That’s all I ask. Good night, Melinda.”

  As Nathan sauntered away, Melinda kept an eye on his broad back and fabulous ass. There was something very appealing about working for a man like Nathan Cole. Not only was he a pleasure to look at, but he could take her places; places a girl from rural Mississippi longed to see. Museums, fancy restaurants, nightclubs, designer dress shops; all the sights she had dreamed of visiting when she first came to New Orleans with Josh. But things hadn’t worked out as planned, and now a second opportunity to have the kind of life she had always wanted was within her grasp.

  “Are you finished with that man?”

  When Melinda spun around, Ellie was gathering up her things from her table.

  Melinda eased over to her friend. “What do you think of Nathan Cole?”

  “Handsome, good dresser, seems pretty sure of himself.” Ellie focused her blue eyes on Melinda. “Why? Are you interested in him?”

  “Not like that. Not in a romantic way. I’m more interested in what he could do for me.”

  Ellie’s throaty chortle resonated through the darkness creeping across Jackson Square. “Be careful with that kind of man, honey. Men like that are only interested in two things, money and power. You can feel it when he walks by. His aura exudes too much confidence and not enough concern for anyone else but himself.”

  Melinda caught sight of Nathan’s figure fading into the shadows of Chartres Street. “But sometimes you have to dance with the devil to get what you want, right?”

  “Just make sure you’re ready to deal with the consequences, because with men like that, there are always consequences.”

  Turning back to Ellie, Melinda knitted her brow. “What kind of consequences?”

  Ellie shook her head and softly chuckled. “Melinda, sometimes you really are too good to be true.”

  * * *

  The usually boisterous St. Ann Street was blissfully peaceful as Jack escorted Melinda to her front doorstep. The bright streetlights above the crowded Creole cottages cast eerie shadows on the sidewalk, adding a ghostly ambience to their stroll. When they stopped before the bright red door of a dark green French Quarter townhouse, Jack cleared his throat.

  “Thanks for setting up my table for me today,” Melinda wrestled with her backpack.

  Jack tugged at the straps of his green canvas tote bag. “When you didn’t show up first thing this morning, I almost came back to your apartment to see if you were all right.”

  Melinda fought back the urge to groan. “You’ve got to stop being so protective of me, Jack. I’m fine.” She opened a side pocket on her backpack and searched for her keys.

  “Maddie, you live alone in that little apartment, and you keep dating these losers who are never around when—”

  “Jeez, Jack, when you shoot someone down, you do it with both barrels.”

  Jack’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not shooting you down, I’m trying to tell you that you can’t go on living like this.”

  She wrenched the keys from her backpack. “Living like what? I’ve got several odd jobs, live in a small apartment, and struggle to pay the bills … just like you.”

  “But I’m a man, Maddie. It’s expected for me to live this kind of life, but you …” He pointed to her. “You’re what, almost twenty-six? How long do you plan on living this way?”

  Melinda’s cheeks burned. “Oh, because I’m a woman who is ‘almost twenty-six,’ you think I need someone else to take care of me. Is that it?”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it, Maddie.”

  She stomped her foot on the pavement. “Stop call
ing me Maddie. I don’t know why you gave me that stupid nickname anyway.”

  Jack waved at her red cheeks. “This is why I call you Maddie. My mad Maddie! You fly off the handle every time I talk to you. I swear, I don’t think we’ve had one conversation that didn’t end in an argument from the first day we met.”

  “So it’s all my fault?”

  Teeming with frustration, Jack tossed his head back and gaped at the balcony floorboards above him. “God, I can’t win with you.”

  “You always like to push my buttons, don’t you, Jack?” Her voice was peppered with anger. “Every time we get together you’re always needling me about how you want me to become a better musician, be a composer, be a better psychic, and now even how I live is being scrutinized by you.”

  “I’m not scrutinizing you, Maddie … Melinda. I just want you to be you.”

  “You’re always telling me that … ‘just be you, Maddie,’ or ‘this isn’t you, Maddie,’” she said, imitating his deep voice.

  Jack scowled, his hazel eyes on fire. “Is it a crime that I want you to be who you are? Do you know how great you are? How wonderful on the inside and the outside you …” He froze and lowered his eyes to the sidewalk.

  Melinda shifted her backpack on her shoulder. Here it comes. Here comes the awkward part.

  “You know your friendship means a lot to me, Jack,” she insisted, hoping to end their disagreement.

  “Friendship?” His eyes flashed with fury. “I want more than friendship with you, Maddie. And don’t shut me out like you’ve done a hundred times before whenever I bring up the possibility of us. I want to know why you won’t give us a chance.”

  Melinda’s body surged with dread. “Don’t do this, Jack.”

  “Do what? Beg you to give me a chance? Ask you to go out with me instead of one of your deranged psychopaths?” Jack shook his head and turned away from her. “It’s getting harder and harder to watch you from the sidelines,” he whispered.

 

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