"And there were close to three hundred people present. It was jam packed, nearly causing a fire hazard." Eric pointed out reasonably. He was dying for his favorite brand of cigar, but that would have to wait. He had found the note partially hidden behind a vase of freesias on a corner table as he was doing his rounds late last night and thought nothing of it until he opened it this morning.
He glanced over at Kiara who was bundled up in her robe and sitting in a comfortable chair next to the window. She had yet to say anything.
"I'm calling Margo."
"It's still early." Her voice petered off when Oscar whirled to pin her with his eyes. "Whatever." She muttered. "Would you like some tea?" She asked Eric.
"Wouldn't mind it a bit, if it's not too much trouble."
With a nod, she uncoiled herself and left the room.
"She's scared."
"She bloody well should be. Good Christ, Eric. He was right there. Inside the pub." Fisting his hands, he lifted them to his chest. "He could have come after her."
"The note indicates that he's more after you." His friend pointed out. "He called you a rutting bull and a disgrace to the human race." His smile was mirthless. "I'm guessing he did not like the way you were dancing with Kiara and the fact that you disappeared right after. It does not take half of a brain to figure out why you two left."
"She's my woman. We can bloody well do whatever we want." Plucking the phone from his pocket, he made the call.
"She's coming." Marching to the window, he gazed out at the whisper of the dew on the leaves and petals of the flowers in the lush garden. Last night had been a rousing success. The reviews were already out, and the papers were raving about the opening.
Last night he had come home and made love to the woman he loved, with the intention of having a lazy day today, where he lavish her with attention. Now that was blown to goddamn hell. It pissed him off.
"Thanks darling." Eric moved forward to take the tray from her and kissed her on the cheek. "Sit and allow me to serve."
They both glanced over at Oscar who was still standing by the window, his back to them.
"Margo's on her way."
"Why don't you come and have a cup of tea?" Kiara suggested mildly.
"I don't want tea. What I want is to get my hands around the neck of that bastard and squeeze until there's nothing left."
"Since that's not possible right now, why don't you--"
He whirled and had the rest of the words dying on her tongue. "Do what? Sip tea as if this is just another normal day? Pretend that an unhinged bastard is not out there panting after you?" He threw up his hands. "Well, why the bloody hell not? We'll justhave tea then, how about some cake and tiny sandwiches to top it off?"
"I think the housekeeper made some blueberry crumble."
"Damn you Kiara! You think this is a joke?"
"If you don't stop shouting at me, I will go upstairs, get dressed and go home."
"Try it. Just try it." His entire body went still, eyes an icy blue. "See how far you'll get."
Eric felt the relief coursing through his body at the sound of the doorbell. Hastily putting his cup down, he headed towards the doorway.
"I'll get it." He announced and left them glaring at each other.
"It's a battlefield in there." He warned Margo as he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.
"I can just imagine. You're looking well. Last night was great, Merrick is still recovering. I warned him not to drink that last glass of Guiness, but the man is pigheaded in his old age."
"And if he hears you calling him old, there'll be hell to pay." Eric tucked her hand through his arm and led the way into the living room.
As they walked in, the tension in the room was palpable. Oscar barely glanced up, his jaw set and his hands clenched tightly at his sides. Margo, sensing the fragile peace, offered a gentle smile and set down her purse with deliberate care.
The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow that seemed at odds with the charged atmosphere, but Eric hoped it might soften the edges of the morning's hostilities.
