Her loss.
I pay for my wardrobe, aware that I could buy a new dually pickup truck for what I’m spending here.I search for Julian and find him tidying up the fitting area.His next client is already waiting.
I always make sure to thank my tailor properly.So when I shake his hand, I slip him four-thousand pounds sterling in bank notes.He smiles up at me.
I know how difficult it is to get an appointment with this man.I’ve heard it was flat-out impossible back when Prince Phillip was alive because Julian had been at the old chap’s beck and call for thirty years.
I’m not glad the prince is dead.Not at all.I don’t wish ill on anyone.
But the old guy’s exit was my entrance.By the time I became a newly-minted billionaire, Julian was available.
“You are too generous, Mr.MacLaine,” he now says, discreetly sliding the cash into his trouser pocket.
I laugh, resting a friendly hand on his shoulder.“As we both know, there’s no such thing as too generous on Savile Row.”
With that, I’m off to my mani-pedi appointment and then to my business meeting.I haven’t come to London just to spoil myself.It’s not the only reason, anyway.
Two hours later, I’m seated at the gleaming conference table in a secure facility inside the British Ministry of Defence.Already assembled are military and intelligence officials from Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the UK.I’m sandwiched between a US Army general and a British admiral of the fleet.
I’m here to discuss potential new applications for StellaR Tech capabilities.Finn and Declan have come up with something so promising and revolutionary that the Joint Cybersecurity Task Force wants it launched immediately.It’s my job to determine if we really have what they need and if we can spin up fast enough to create a usable product by their deadline.
Two chairs directly across from me remain empty, and I notice that we’re missing the US Naval Intelligence contingent.Just then, the conference room door opens behind me.I hear apologies offered.Two officers sit down.
Oh, shit.
Directly across from me is Captain Harper Dunn-Spence, the woman I once thought would become my sister-in-law.She dated Special K for more than two years.Why they ended it remains a mystery.
She looks up.I watch her face turn stony as she recognizes me.I smile and tell her it’s nice to see her again.She says the same and turns her attention elsewhere.
She’s exactly as I remember her.Not a blond hair out of place.Service dress blues, crisp and neat, white collar starched, and black necktie centered.Textbook badass Naval officer.
And once my presentation starts, I watch her slam down scones and clotted cream like she hasn’t eaten in a week.
It’s a productive meeting, and I leave knowing that we’re on the cusp of another huge contract.It’s mind-boggling how far we’ve come in under three years.Out in the foyer, I look for Harper, but she’s already disappeared.I hear the stairwell door slam and suspect she took the stairs to avoid me.
I make a stop at No.6 Cavendish for a cigar, and then head to Heathrow.An hour later, I’m on the StellaR Tech private jet and on my way home.I’ve got my shined shoes propped up on the leather footrest.I’m raising a crystal glass of single malt whisky to my lips as a reward for a job well done.
My phone rings.
“Get home immediately,” Cal says.“It’s an emergency.”
CHAPTER 2
Evander
Cal’s tone of voice assures me that there’s no real emergency.
In an actual crisis, his voice becomes as sharp as a switchblade.Not the kind of pitiful whining I’m hearing right now.
“Where the hell are you?”he complains.
“In the air, going about five hundred miles an hour.”
“Well, hurry the fuck up, man.You’ve gotta save me.Finn’s got me assembling these little baggies made out of some kind of mesh fabric.He’s making me tie them up with ribbons, and I’m not sure life’s worth living anymore.”
“Tulle?”
“Huh?”
