by Nana Malone
She sighed. “Honey, I love you; you know that. I have loved you since you came here for Uni. But let me be really, really clear when I say your boyfriend is a dud. He’s more worried about how you might not be around to wait on him hand and foot than he is thrilled for you.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Enough about Dex.”
“Okay, fine. So, just how fit is your hot new boss?”
I laughed. “I thought you would have looked him up by now.”
“Oh, I have.” She pulled out her phone from her purse, typed on it quickly, and then pulled up a picture of none other than the gorgeous Viking god himself. His hair was shorter, and he had some scruff on his jaw. God, that scruff did something for him.
“Yes, he is pretty, but it doesn’t matter. You know guys like that are bad news. Trouble with a capital T. I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Love, if you don’t want him, I will take him off your hands.”
“Except you’re not exactly a fan of dick.”
“Sweetheart, for that face, I could figure out how to make it work. I mean it’s a dick, how hard can it be?”
I snorted a laugh, nearly taking some of my wine on the ride.
The rest of lunch went well. As always, we ate more bread than we should have, making it nearly impossible to finish the rest of our meals. But still, it was delicious. And the one glass of wine I had allowed myself in the middle of the day had somewhat eased that tension that had developed in my shoulders. Until somewhere around dessert, as I moaned around a spoonful of tiramisu, I could have sworn I saw Fenton Mills at the bar.
No. There was no way that could be him. What the fuck was he doing there?
Telly handed the waiter her credit card when he stopped by at with the card machine. “What are you looking at?”
I slunk into my seat. “Don’t look now. I think that’s Fenton Mills.”
Her brows lifted. “Dexter’s boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s not him.” She tried to turn around, and I grabbed her hand.
“Do not look. He’ll see you. Let’s just go.”
“Well, hurry away. The front door is that way.”
The waiter passed our way, and I signaled him. When he came over, he had a wide smile on his face. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. But I wanted to know, is there a back door?”
He shook his head. “Nope, the only way in and out is through the front there.”
“No staff exit?”
“There is, but it’s just the garbage bins out there.”
I scowled. “Fine. Thank you.” I was going to have to go out the front, which meant I was going to have to be stealthy.
“Telly?”
She raised a brow. “Let me guess, interference?”
I nodded. “I don’t want to deal with him. I don’t want to talk to him. I just want him to leave me alone.”
“You really need to talk to Dexter about this. Or maybe the police or something, because he always seems to be where you are.”
“I’ve tried. Dex is sure I’m overreacting. Says he’s harmless.” Also creepy. Don’t forget creepy. But I was pretty sure I couldn’t get him arrested for being creepy. “Come on.”
“Of course. Anything for my bestie.”
I grabbed my purse. There wasn’t a direct path to the front, but there were some columns that I could possibly duck between if Telly pulled him to the far left of the restaurant and chatted. Then, I could be free and pretend I hadn’t even seen him.
I waited until Telly was out of her seat and approaching the bar. The sashay in her hips was designed to draw the attention of any man.
The problem was I could practically feel Fenton staring at me. And thanks to the mirrored candle on the table, I could see the image of him at the bar looking in my direction. Well, maybe he wasn’t watching me. Maybe he was trying to look for someone he knew?
Oh God, stop making excuses for him. He is creeptastic.
I could hear Telly’s voice above the din of the restaurant. “Oh my God, Mr. Mills, is that you?”
I waited until she was facing my way and his back was to me, then I bolted out of my seat. I hightailed it past several tables, walking with a purpose, and then I ducked between the pillars. There was one large plant on the way to the front. If I could just pause there, I’d be home free.
But as I started walking, I heard a familiar voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I whipped around. It was none other than Ben Covington.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His brows rose. “You are the one hiding between two pillars, and you want to know what I’m doing here?”
“I’m not hiding. I’m strategically placed as I exit the premises.”
He laughed. “You know, I pay you enough now that you can afford lunch here. You don’t need to run out on the bill.”
My jaw unhinged. “I would never. And that is so arrogant and classist of you to even think that.”
He frowned. “Relax, I was just making a joke. It was just kind of funny.”
“Well then, you missed the mark.”
“All right. Sorry. But what are you doing, anyway? Why do you look like you’re hiding?”
“I’m not hiding.”
I heard Telly still talking, which meant Fenton was still looking for me. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. See you at the office.” And then I darted. Brisk walk, almost there. Almost there. Almost there. At the plant, I realized I hadn’t shaken the Viking. “Okay, you’re definitely hiding. Who don’t you want to see?”
God, he was annoying. “Mind your own business.”
And then it happened.
Fenton. “Ah, Olivia, I thought that was you.”
I went stiff. “Mr. Mills. What are you doing here?”
“You know, I was in the mood for Italian today.”
I frowned. “All the way across town from the office? Surely, there must be Italian places nearby on the South Bank.”
“Yes, but Emily and I, we eat here often. Remember, we used to live around here.”
“Oh, did you?” I knew what bullshit smelled like and this was a grade A variety.
I’d make it a point to never eat here again. Ben’s gaze ping-ponged between me and Fenton, and then Telly, and back again to me. There was no way I was going to get around this. “Mr. Covington, this is Fenton Mills, my boyfriend Dexter’s boss. And this is my best friend, Telly.”
He shook hands with her, but his eyes stayed on me and I couldn’t help but shift under the scrutiny. He completely ignored Mills. “Yes well, if you will excuse us, Olivia and I have a meeting back at the office. Telly, I’m sure she’d like to give you a tour, but we need to get back to prep for Peterman.”
I turned and stared at him. Peterman?
He was giving me an out. “Oh yes, the Peterman meeting. I still have some files I want to go over with you. But Telly, I think I have time for a quick tour if you’re up to it.”
The muscle in Fenton’s jaw ticked. “I was hoping to buy you a drink or lunch. I didn’t know you were busy.”
Ben smiled. “Yeah, Olivia here is one of our brightest new talents. I plan to keep her busy for a while.” Then he escorted us out of the restaurant.
The sun tried to peek out from behind the cloud cover as tourists packed the streets of Westchester Square.
At the tube closer to the office, Telly grinned up at him. “Oh, I can see why she took the job with you.”
My face flamed. I was going to kill her. Best friend or not, this calls for a debt. She winked and then went off to the tube station.
I turned and he grinned at me. “I like her.”
“Don’t get used to her. She’s going to die later.”
“Don’t murder a mate on my account. She seems to be looking out for you.”
“She’s the best.”
“Then why aren’t you asking her for those favors you m
entioned?”
I sighed. “Because she would try to fix things for me. I need someone neutral. Since we’re on the topic. I need your help for a thing if you’re up for it.”
He lifted a brow. “Great, let’s get it over with then. Where are we going?”
I took a deep breath, sighed, and released it slowly. “On a Jack the Ripper tour.”
He blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I am.”
“What’s to keep me from going back on my word?”
“Well, my research on you tells me you tend to keep your word. You don’t make any bargains that you don’t intend to keep. That’s your reputation anyway.”
He nodded slowly. “So, you finally decided to look up who the hell you were working for.”
“Well, if I was going to make a devil’s bargain, I wanted to know who I was getting in bed with.”
He shook his head. “You’re stubborn. I like that.”
“Can you come, or can’t you?”
His gaze narrowed as it swept over me. “I wonder what it is about you. You’re a complete mystery, yet somehow you have me by the blue balls.”
I blinked. “I do not have you by the balls. Besides, they wouldn’t be blue. I haven’t done anything to you yet.”
“That, my dear, is debatable. What time?”
“Eight. We’ll meet at Traitor’s Gate.”
“Why can’t we just go together after work?”
“Well, I need to go home and change.”
There it was again, that slow perusal of my body that made my skin feel tight and too hot. As if he’d just put his nose all over every inch of my skin like he had in the closet. His nostrils flared as he if he was inhaling deep.
I swallowed hard.
No. Fantasies about this man are not on the menu. Dexter. Remember him?
He chuckled. “You know what? I’m curious. So, I’ll come.”
“Really?” I was surprised. I had expected him to put me off with plans until I had to browbeat him. I never expected him to comply.
“And here is a piece of advice, sweetheart. When you have the upper hand, act like you know it. Don’t ever show weakness. Don’t ever back down. Don’t ever be surprised that someone is willing to do what you demanded. Act like you knew it was going to be that way all along.
“That’s excellent business advice.”
“It’s excellent life advice. Follow it, or you’ll get eaten alive.”
Ben
“Okay, gentlemen. What we have here are proposed candidates for the Five. There is a list of ten names, so we’ll need to vet each one. We don’t want to waste time chasing our tails.”
I stared up at those ten men on the screen in front of me. Men I’d known since I was in secondary school.
East continued. “We know that Rowan Downs is in fact one of the Five.” East moved his image down into our roster.
Bridge walked over. “That’s Adam Hilton. He’s been a senior member of Intelligence for the last fifteen years. He’s my vote.”
Drew nodded. “We should put him down on the list. Even if he isn’t one of the Five, he’s still influential in the Elite.”
I considered the list. We didn’t have time to approach them all. “How do we narrow this down?” I glanced at Bridge. “We’ve got to make our best educated guesses. Bridge, you’re on Van Linsted. You’re our eyes in the street. East you’re our background and tech guy, so your job is finding us some leverage we can use. Drew and I will handle the approaches. Does that make sense?”
Bridge rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, divide and conquer. That way we don’t have to do everything.”
I nodded. “East, how quickly do you think you can find us some information?”
He grinned. “Please, what am I, some kind of amateur?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t be a show-off cunt.”
He grinned at me, and I realized I hadn’t seen a smile like that from him in years. Somewhere in the last decade, we’d all grown a little shrewder, a little less open. Each of us more reserved. But the change had been most notable in East.
I didn’t even notice the changes in myself, but I was sure they were there.
A few quick taps on his keyboard, and we were looking at just a photo of Adam Hilton. “All right, so Adam Hilton. He likes the ladies. Frequents several escort agencies. But primarily, he has a dominatrix called Trix Lagrange. She’s been in business fifteen years. She’s very unlikely to roll on a client, but I might be able to hack her system unless she’s analog.”
“I guess everyone has their thing, don’t they?” I muttered.
East shrugged. “True. Hilton is married. Old English money. While he and his family were already wealthy, it was his wife’s family fortune that really made him. What few people know is that he has another wife.”
I sat up straighter. “What?”
East grinned and nodded. He pulled up another photo of a woman who could have been Spanish or Italian. Long, dark hair, olive skin, beautiful dark eyes, and looks that hinted at a smile on the way.
“Well, he has decent taste, at least.”
Bridge chuckled. “What, is your plan to seduce his wife?”
“I mean, is she really his wife? Because that’s bigamy.”
East tapped again. “Yes, it is. Another note. Elia, his Spanish wife, has a ten-year-old son. Hilton’s ten-year-old son. His wife in the UK was unable to conceive. They adopted three children. But Elia’s son is Hilton’s only biological heir.”
“Okay, that’s good. I can use that.”
“Now, here is the really interesting part. Elia, beautiful though she is, is twenty-six years old.”
I frowned as I did the math. “What?”
Drew shook his head. “Ugh, God. Perverted little shit.”
“That he is. He met Elia on the beach in Spain when she was sixteen years old and knocked her up. Her family insisted on a quickie marriage, and he neglected to tell them that he was already married.”
I nodded. “Okay. Adam Hilton is our first. We have to make it work.”
Bridge nodded. “While you are working on that, I’m working on setting up a meeting to have Van Linsted come to London Lords. A show of good faith that if I’m willing to meet with him openly, then I’m not afraid of you, or whatever.”
I grinned. “Now, we both know that’s bullshit.”
Bridge just chuckled. “Please, I could take you.”
“You know I’ve still got half an inch on you.”
He started to push to his feet, and East silenced us both. “Oi. Behave. You’re not breaking anything else in my flat today.”
Bridge just gave me a smirk and a lifted chin, and I grinned at him. “And so it begins.”
Bridge, East, and Drew nodded along with me then muttered in unison, “And so it begins.”
10
Ben
I pulled up my collar as I shuffled from foot to foot, the wind chapping my ass. If I was being honest, I had no idea why I was freezing my balls off on a spring night in front of the Traitors’ Gate souvenir shop, but there I was, waiting on a woman I wasn’t sure I could trust.
I’d considered not coming. I had enough going on with the Elite, and I could have made an excuse. I could have gone back on our bargain. As if. But that wasn’t me. Mostly, I was curious because she’d made such a point of having me agree to do this with her.
Why did she want a perfect stranger accompanying her? From what I’d seen, she had at least one really good friend. Where was the woman with the wild black hair?
There were a few other people milling about, and I could only assume that they were there for the same reason we were. They too liked creepy things.
Olivia didn’t seem like the sort who would enjoy this, but what the fuck did I know about her? Other than the fact that she was a shrewd negotiator.
I looked up to find her approaching. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m late. It’s kind of a disaster. Trains were late, and apparently there is no si
gnage to the Jack the Ripper tour.”
Her hair was down, and curls were blowing in her face. She’d opted for black leggings with leather embellishments and a black top that was not quite a turtleneck but close. She also wore a black leather jacket. Basically, she looked like she’d asked for cat burglar chic at the store. “I see you didn’t dress for the occasion.”
I shrugged. “Well, what does one wear on a Jack the Ripper excursion?”
One by one, the other people who’d been milling about, not approaching me, were happy to come talk to us when Olivia was there, which I found fascinating. Eventually, a gentleman with a close-cropped beard, hawkish features and a wool hat, strolled up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I assume you are all here for the Jack the Ripper tour?”
One of the other women nodded. “Yeah, that’s us.” As she spoke, you could see the condensation of her breath in the brisk night air. The tube station and souvenir shop provided artificial light, but most of the street was only lit by pubs.
“Well, glad to see you all.” He did a quick headcount. “I’m Jack.” He chuckled. “Yes, I know. It’s a little on the nose for me to do my own tour, but I think it’s great for comedic effect.”
There was some tittering, but then we got underway. Much to my surprise, he was quite knowledgeable. As the tour went along, we found out that he was a professor. Which made sense for why he loved doing the tour so much.
The whole time, Olivia was mostly quiet and introspective. I had expected her to continue chatting, but she seemed to retreat more and more into herself. I still didn’t understand why she’d wanted me to come.
As nights out went, it wasn’t bad, but I expected her to engage more.
We stopped along the river for a moment, and Jack was giving us more history about the brutality of the murders and the speculation about who Jack was, but my gaze was on her lithe form as she crossed the street to the river, took something from her pocket, and then seemed to pour it out. Then she put something back in her pocket and came back to the group.
“Olivia, are you okay?”