At six sharp, Darrel comes in. I give Elise a call.
She picks up at once. “I have questions.”
“You can ask them when we meet.”
“I’m not officially agreeing to help you until I find out more.”
“Duly noted.”
There’s a brief pause and then she asks, “Where are we meeting?”
“Chambéry Confidential. It’s in—”
“I know where it is. It’s the best hotel in town.”
“Are you at home?” I ask.
“Yes. But I’m dressed and ready to leave.”
“My personal attendant will pick you up.”
“I can take a bus.”
“Wait at home,” I say in a tone that implies this is not up for discussion. “Darrel will be there in ten minutes.”
“Fine,” she says.
We hang up and I exhale slowly.
The plan is working. My appearance didn’t spook her, or she would have run away or refused to see me again. Based on Elise’s profile, our MESS psyops guys have hypothesized that she has a developed sense of honor and fairness. They predicted that if I paid off her brother’s debt and saved her from a month of sexual slavery, then reciprocity would kick in hard. Reciprocity, they’d argued, would make it nearly impossible for an honorable person like Elise to refuse to help me.
They were right.
THEO
Twenty-five minutes later, I open the door and Elise walks in followed by Darrel.
“Let me take your coat,” I offer as she takes off her down jacket and hat.
Her thick, shoulder-length auburn hair tumbles down, giving my hand a sudden itch. I turn my back to her and lead the way to the sofa corner of the salon. There’s no escaping her scent, though. Whether it’s her shampoo or her perfume, or a combination of both with her skin, Elise smells like the wildflowers growing on Evorian mountain slopes in July.
At my invitation, she plonks herself down on the sofa across from me.
Darrel serves everyone a glass of water. “Food and beverages are on their way.”
She steals a glance at me before looking away.
Today, she’s wearing a pair of worn jeans and a gray sweater. With flat boots and no trace of makeup, she looks more like the file that Carlo compiled on her than the way she looked yesterday. Free-spirited, outdoorsy, and athletic—she’s extremely reliable and loyal in her friendships but too introverted to form many.
It’s as if the woman I saw yesterday was a look-alike that was jaw-droppingly beautiful in her fuck-me shoes and stretchy dress, red lipstick, an updo, and a generous amount of cleavage.
Like a loser incapable of self-control, I got a hard-on sitting in that armchair as I watched her while her eyes adjusted to the dark room. I fought my embarrassing reaction in vain, until I reminded myself what I looked like and how she’d respond once she saw my face.
Predictably, she winced and shuffled backward.
Today, when she glanced at me, she looked away, but she didn’t grimace or recoil.Kudos, Madame!Few can pull that off.
Then again, given what she was prepared to do for her pathetic brother, this woman is braver than the average human being. She’s tough. Perhaps, it isn’t a coincidence that fate chose her to be the Key to the Third Key.
