“Good morning, we would like to go over your itinerary while you are San Diego, especially with the add-on,” Troy said.
“Ah, you also understand French, Troy?”
“Oui. The San Diego Yacht Club?”
“It is a summer fashion show to raise funds for their children’s charities. I’m donating my time, three outfits and my usual salary of $20,000. It’s scheduled for Thursday—black-tie.”
“When do you try on the outfits and where?” Kieran cocked his head.
“Ah, no secrets with all of you.” Her hand slipped under the table onto Kieran’s thigh, causing him to flinch.
“Boss, everything okay?” Troy asked.
“Hmm, fine,” Kieran said.
“I’d like to visit Alain,” Monique asked.
“We’ll get you there, but, first, we need to go over some things. Monique, as I explained this morning, Alain kept some of the issues from you. Troy and I both spoke with Lyon police. They said the first issue they logged as serious was on Bastille Day last year. But they admitted they dismissed the small incidents as overzealous fan mail and gifts. They were all addressed to ‘My Temptress,’” Zach said.
Monique shuddered. “Seraphina. Temptress was the ad campaign.”
“What’s Seraphina?” Kieran asked.
Zach’s eyebrow arched.
“Care to share the thought, Wentworth?” Kieran glared.
Zach’s eyes darkened. “Agent Provocateur. Seraphina. The last time I checked, a thong was running about one hundred forty,” he said in the same tone one would talk about buying groceries.
“I’m paying you too much if you can afford things that cost that much,” Kieran snapped.
Monique’s hand rubbed up and down Kieran’s thigh, no longer careful if the others saw. “Calm down,mon gros ours.” She turned in her seat, her hand still on Kieran’s leg. “Zachary, yes, I shot an ad for them.”
Julian’s and Troy’s eyes bugged out. Troy whispered to Zach, and Julian whispered to Martin. The four operators all appeared to be sucking on a lemon.
“Spit it out!” Kieran demanded.
“Yes, sir. You ‘big bear.’” Tears started to drop from Julian’s eyes as he tried to contain his laughter.
Kieran lay his head on the table. “My command structure is doomed.”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Martin rose and, after checking the peephole, let Ian inside. “What’s wrong?” He spotted Kieran.
“Monique asked her big bear to calm down.” Troy laughed.
“Oh, I see. Hello, Madame Lillier, I’m Ian Chase.” He extended his hand.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Chase, please call me Monique.”
“Monique.” Ian walked in front of her and squatted down. “I’m sorry I was late to your meeting.”
Kieran swallowed hard. His brother’s posture was a warning.
“I wish I had better news. Alain Charpentier died an hour ago.” Ian’s voice was soft.
Monique stared down at her hands, twisting them. Tears began to fall, and she paled. “No more.” Standing, she fled to her room. Kieran, feeling emotions he wasn’t accustomed to, ran after her.
* * *
