He took a deep breath, forced a smile for Bo, then donned a neutral face.
The conference room appeared the same as the last time he’d been in there, and he glanced at the windows where he and Bo had held each other on more than one occasion.
Whooshing out a breath, he turned to face his past.
Victor sat at one side of the table, a woman with a laptop next to him.
“Agent Harrison, please, have a seat.” Victor waved a hand to a place across from him, with a big fucking microphone on the table in front of the chair.
Pulse jackhammering, Lucky sat. He hadn’t expected someone else to be there, just him and Victor.
Victor, the man who’d gotten him involved in crime. Well, no. Lucky’d been well on his way to a lawless existence long before he’d stolen Victor’s car and ended up working for a drug lord who’d made him a deal he couldn’t refuse. Not if he wanted to live.
The still-gorgeous sonofabitch exuded the same amount of power as when he’d run an empire.
The moment Lucky dropped down in the chair, Victor began, all business, and acting as though he and Lucky had never met. “State your name and the date, please.”
“Umm… I’ve got a few names. Want them all?”
Victor’s lips twitched upward. “Your current one suffices.” He turned to the woman. “Strike that exchange from the official transcript.”
Lucky spent the next twenty minutes answering questions.
At long last the assistant quietly packed her things and left. “I’ll bring back some coffee if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” Victor said. “You know how I like mine.”
“Black, with stevia if there’s any in the breakroom.” Lucky wasn’t about to turn down a cup of coffee, and Victor ordering coffee might mean the conversation wasn’t over.
Victor folded his hands on the table, gazing at Lucky with blank face.
The woman returned a moment later. She showed emotion for the first time since Lucky entered the room, giving him an encouraging nod along with a full cup. He took a sip and sighed.
Stevia. Most likely decaf. Bo must still be here, hovering and pacing, like Lucky had.
Being alone with Victor caused the hairs on the back of Lucky’s neck to prickle. What would the man say? Cuss Lucky out for testifying against him all those years ago?
The hint of no-doubt expensive cologne tickled Lucky’s nose, and this close, he made out the tiny lines around Victor’s eyes.
He fought back images of them naked in bed in a tangle of limbs, or Lucky bent over a desk.
Ancient history.
Victor’s professional mask fell into a warm smile Lucky bet few people got to see. He had. He’d held the man when he’d been sad, seen the vulnerability under Victor’s iron-clad armor. Had done his best to nurse Victor through a bout of the flu until Victor ran him out of the room and rang for the housekeeper.
In low, sultry tones, Victor said, “It’s good to see you, Lucky.”
Should Lucky say the same? How did he actually feel about seeing his old lover?
Victor chuckled. “I know, I know. You never expected to lay eyes on me again.” He spread his hands. “And yet here I am.”
“Here you are.” Lucky managed to get words out with a too-thick tongue. Go, him!
Long, elegant fingers with buffed nails lifted the cup for Victor to sip his coffee. He nodded toward Lucky. “Go on, drink up. As much as you used to love coffee, I doubt you’ve lost the taste.”
Stress wound Lucky tight. “What do you want? Out with it.”
“You never were the type for social niceties, were you?” Victor grinned. “How comforting that some things never change.”
