“It wasn’t. As I said, Atwater doesn’t seem to have any kind of moral code.”
For the first time, her gaze cut from the river to slide over him. He couldn’t read her, but she chose that moment to look at him. The moment when he was talking about another man’s moral code.
“I look bad with all the sex I have, Meiling. But those women want to have sex. They initiate with me, and they would come back for more if I let them. I don’t. I’m careful to make it clear I don’t have relationships. I don’t have sex with shifters. The sex is with women who frequent various clubs. Women Rene knows. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I don’t know what else to do when Slayer drives us both so hard.”
“I’m not making a judgment on your lifestyle. You were living that way long before I came along, and no doubt you’ll be living that way long after I leave.”
His heart nearly stopped. She said it so casually. Just sort of dropped that little bombshell as if it meant nothing. There was no living if she left. Not with his leopard accelerating its violent behavior. As disciplined as he was, he would never be able to control the cat. Eventually it would break free and kill someone. He couldn’t have that. And that was if he didn’t go insane from lack of sleep first.
“I should fire Rene for allowing that woman into the house,” he snapped.
“You can’t fire Rene.”
He remained stubbornly silent. Rene should have known better.
“Has it occurred to you that Rene saw the state you were in and knew you couldn’t go to the club? He brought the woman to the house to help you?”
As always, Meiling sounded peaceful and calm, driving some of the agitation from him. It didn’t keep his lungs from feeling as if they were burning raw.
“I lost you.”
She sighed. “I thought that at first too. It feels that way, but the truth is, sooner or later we were going to have to face reality. We couldn’t keep on the way we were going.”
Gedeon knew she was right. He was becoming too possessive of her. The longer they were together, the more he didn’t like other males around her. The more he wanted to claim her for himself. He wasn’t certain how long he would have been able to hold out. The minute he made a move on her, it would have ended their relationship in a disastrous way.
“What do you plan on doing, Meiling?” He might as well ask her outright.
“I don’t know yet. We have that meeting today. I want to clear the cases we’ve been working. I’ve got to think things through. You should too. When we’ve both had a little time, we can talk again and figure out what we want to do.”
She sounded so reasonable, he wanted to shake her. He knew her too well. She wasn’t feeling at all the way she was pretending to be. She looked relaxed and indifferent. She acted and sounded that way. But she wasn’t. She’d only looked at him once, that one flick of her eyes, a sideways glance. Nothing since.
They sat together on the bench and watched the sunrisebefore walking together back to the house. She didn’t walk close to him the way she’d always done. They didn’t laugh together. She didn’t hand him her coffee cup to throw into the trash container on the way; she dumped it herself. It was a small thing, but it was a sign of her declaring her independence. When they got to the house, she walked around to the back and he went up the front steps alone with his heart heavy, Slayer raging at him.
***
GUYHawkins was in his late sixties with rounded shoulders and a receding hairline. He wore his wealth casually, from his canvas loafers to his sports jacket and faded jeans. Sending his secretary a vague smile as Gedeon and Meiling were ushered into his office, he waved them toward two chairs.
His office was in downtown New Orleans in one of the newer modern buildings. Hawkins was renowned as a composer, a record producer and a music executive with eighteen Grammy awards and nearly fifty more nominations. His net worth was well over a hundred million, but who was counting? Recently he had gotten involved with a young blues group that had taken the world by storm. They were playing at the very popular Blue’s Club, owned by Bijou Boudreaux, in New Orleans.
“Thank you for coming.” He extended his hand, first to Gedeon and then to Meiling. “I received your name, Mr. Volkov, on the highest recommendation from my friend, Carmine Brambilla. He told me you were discreet and able to get the job done very fast.” He glanced at Meiling. “He said you worked alone.”
“He was wrong.” Gedeon didn’t give Meiling’s name.
“I see.” Hawkins frowned and walked around his desk to stand behind it. He dropped into his chair and studied Gedeon’s stony features.
“I understand completely if you wish to call themeeting off and find someone else. We can leave.” Gedeon sounded bored and did his obligatory half rising.
A man with the kind of money Hawkins had would surely investigate Gedeon before he hired him. By now, it was known Gedeon had a partner. She wasn’t as well-known and there were no pictures of her in the media, but Hawkins would have heard of her. Sometimes Gedeon was so sick of the dance, he really did want to leave. Slayer, normally quiet when Meiling was close, refused to settle, raking and carrying on as if he would split Gedeon open and crawl out to destroy their client.
“No, no. If you trust her, then of course it’s fine. It’s just that this is a very sensitive matter and must be kept very quiet.”
Gedeon stared at him, knowing Slayer was watching him closely through Gedeon’s eyes. He had no idea why he felt such animosity toward the man, but he did.
“How can we help you, Mr. Hawkins?” Meiling asked. Her voice was like a soft breeze blowing through the office, sending a calming effect through the red haze in Gedeon’s mind.
Hawkins jumped up from his chair, paced behind the desk, turned back to them and gripped the back of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “My wife, Laverne, is thirty-seven years younger than me. Everyone assumed she was a gold digger and married me for my money. That wasn’t the case. Laverne and I fell in love. It was that simple. I didn’t think I had a chance with her, but she was genuine and sweet and liked all the same things I did.”
He stopped speaking and stood quietly staring down at his desk before picking up the only framed photograph on it. He held it up to show them. His wife was beautiful. The same height as him in her heels, she looked regal with her reddish-blond hair piled high on her head with tendrils artfully falling around her face.
