At a glance, this was not the kind of trouble I was inclined to involve myself in. Sparing crooks the consequences of their actions was a younger man’s game, and familial squabbles could be handled by a demon more desperate than me. But Livingston had already robbed me of a fair amount of time and money. I wouldn’t pass up the chance to earn a bit of it back.
My client didn’t get a word out, though, because someone else spoke first.
“Is that you, Becky? It’s been a long time.”
I recognized the voice before I swiveled to find the petite demon standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He tipped his head and grinned, his lips stained burgundy in the field of his umber skin.
“MisterBeckett,” I corrected. “Or Beck is fine.” An obligatory smile stretched my lips thin as I motioned to my client. We’d been waiting for this, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. “Mister Livingston, this?—”
“Must be Luxe,” Livingston purred. He slid past me to grab Luxe’s hand, then tugged it to his lips to place a kiss on the dancer’s knuckles. “Call me Ewing.”
Luxe gave an affected laugh. “Pleased to meet you, Ewing.”
Dressed in black and white, the Dollhouse’s premier dancer was every inch the “pretty boy” Livingstonrequested. He wore patent Mary Jane shoes and lace stockings under a pair of pleated shorts. With a waist binder and a ruffled top that gave the illusion of feminine curves, he was as stunning as I’d expected, and Livingston was clearly taken aback.
With my client on his heels and my thoughts circling the deal I was trying to make, the floor was open for Luxe to direct the conversation.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked. “I got your call and came straight away.” His tail twitched, making the barbed end sway through the air behind him like a cobra dancing for a snake charmer. Livingston watched it, entranced, while I cleared my throat.
“We’re actually in the middle of something. If you don’t mind waiting.”
Luxe’s white-lashed eyes turned on me with a hint of irritation. “I bill by the hour,” he cautioned.
Up went Livingston’s tab. Several ticks this time.
“I know,” I replied.
Luxe’s mouth pursed into a coquettish smile. “Then by all means.” Prancing over to the couch, he sank dramatically onto the cushions, then posed, stretching out to make his small body look long and inviting.
Livingston might as well have been an owl for how cleanly his head swiveled, tracking Luxe’s every move as the dancer lifted one of the shot glasses from the flight tray and gave it a swirl.
“Ewing,” I said. “I need you to focus. Your son is in a position to burn your empire to the ground, but would he really do that? I assume your business is his legacy.”
Focus, indeed. That earned me every bit of Livingston’s attention and a fair amount of his annoyance at being distracted from the bite-sized bombshell in the room.
“I wanted it to be,” Livingston admitted. “But I’m not surehewants it. Not anymore.”
Maybe not, since his father had added a heaping dose of corruption to the mix. Tainted the whole pot.
“What do you need me to do about it?” I prompted. “Make him back off? Discredit him?”
“I don’t want to ruin him,” Livingston muttered.
“Not like he wants to ruin you.” The comeback was too quick and cut too close to the bone. I had feared my time away from deal making had dulled my edge, but it may have given me a sharper one. Which was less than helpful in delicate negotiations like this.
Livingston’s jaw clenched, causing a vein to pulse in his temple.
We were getting nowhere fast.
Luxe looked bored by it all, toying with the shot glass like he wanted to drink it. I huffed a breath and thought of how to try again. I didn’t like to make the opening bid. It was always better to let the client name their terms, then negotiate down. But talks had stalled, and I wasn’t about to restart them by telling Livingston how to mitigate his own disaster.
Either way, the sooner we wrapped this up, the sooner I could leave Livingston and Luxe to enjoy however much time I’d booked. Did that hour kick in when I’d requested him, or when he arrived? And who was keeping track?
Speaking of Luxe, he was on his feet again, bypassing me to the door he’d pulled closed where yet another distraction was waiting for admittance.
“You two are in for a treat,” Luxe purred. “Did I mention I have a plus one tonight?”
He definitely didnot.
