A Breath Away. Wendy Etherington

      “A wonderfully humiliating picture, but, no, I won’t.”

      Did the man live to annoy just her, or was it everyone who didn’t let him run them over?

      “I don’t mind keeping an extra-sharp eye on him,” David said.

      Jade raised her eyebrows. “Do you usually keep a less than sharp eye on our clients?”

      He flushed. “Ah, well, no.”

      Tremaine approached her, and her pulse immediately, embarrassingly, sped up. “Are you telling me if you’d been shot, you’d let somebody else examine the scene?”

      He knew perfectly well she wouldn’t.

      “And you did promise you’d find a way to let me out.”

      “I was thinking of a stroll down to the lobby,” she said incredulously, “not to the scene of your near death.”

      “I need your help,” he said, staring down at her, “not for you to run my life.”

      The sincerity gleaming from his silver eyes made her instantly suspicious. This was an act for the crowd. He’d shift to ruthlessness without a qualm if it would facilitate getting his way.

      “My team gets to vote on the direction of cases. Clients don’t.”

      “Well, you’re just going to have to make an exception this time, aren’t you?”

      “The team votes. Guys?”

      Grumbling and mumbling ensued, all of which fell in Tremaine’s favor.

      “Fine. I know when I’m outnumbered.” She forced her anger to the pit of her stomach. It was an ego thing, after all. She wanted her way, and the others didn’t agree. She was arrogant, but not stupid. She knew Tremaine, unlike other clients, could handle himself, even though she knew she’d have to constantly remind him who was in charge.

      “I don’t like it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. “But it’s your funeral.” She smiled.

      “I was sort of hoping to avoid that.”

      “Mmm, well, Frank has gotten your signature on the standard security protection release, hasn’t he?”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “He will before we leave.” She turned back to the bedroom. She wanted to splash some water on her face. “Which we do in fifteen minutes.”

      5

      REMY EXITED THE limo alongside Jade and David in front of Plush, the restaurant where he’d been shot.

      The feelings of isolation and being locked in faded as he stepped onto the sidewalk. Power and confidence returned. He’d had to come back, he realized. Not just to forward the investigation, but to shed the sense of helplessness he’d been forced to embrace. The role he’d played that night had required him to swallow a huge part of himself—the warrior side.

      They walked into the restaurant, which was obviously winding down from the lunchtime rush. As Jade approached the maître d’, Remy started to intervene, but the man had obviously been forewarned about their arrival, because he frowned when he noticed Jade. “Ms. Broussard?”

      “That’s me.”

      “The detective is on the patio. Alone. We’ve been banned from allowing diners out there all day.”

      Jade shrugged, her head already turning toward the patio. “That’s their decision, not mine.”

      “Yes, well.” He spotted Remy. “Mr. Tremaine. Oh, sir, it’s so good to see you up and about. We were so grateful you weren’t seriously injured. We sent flowers to the hospital, but they said you’d already been released.”

      “Who said?” Jade asked abruptly, her head snapping around.

      The maître d’ blinked. “The person who answered the phone at the hospital.”

      “Did he give any other information?” she asked sharply.

      “No.” He looked to Remy and smiled. “But now you’re here, so instead we’ll serve you a wonderful lunch—on the house, of course.”

      Remy laid his hand on the maître d’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, John, but I’m afraid I can’t take the time today.”

      “But you will dine here again, sir, won’t you?” he asked, almost desperately, as Remy turned away.

      “You can count on it.”

      “At least the yahoos at the hospital didn’t give out your home address,” Jade said as they headed toward the patio.

      “Probably because I didn’t give it to them. But my office is easily known. I’d like to go there next.”

      “Not until after we do a bomb sweep.”

      “With all that equipment at the hotel, I’m sure you can arrange that without a problem.”

      “I’ll be sure to put it on top of my list, sir.”

      “You didn’t honestly expect I’d sit by, did you?” he asked, well aware she was ticked he’d won their minor skirmish about his coming along.

      “No, but I don’t have to be happy about it, do I?”

      “Ms. Broussard.” A man with a crew cut and wire-rimmed glasses, dressed in khakis and a navy polo shirt approached them as they walked onto the patio. “I thought I recognized you getting out of the limo.”

      Jade shook his hand briefly. “Did you? I don’t think we’ve met, Detective….”

      “Parker. Your cousin Lucas and I have worked a few cases together. He described you.” His gaze dropped to her feet. “All the way down to your boots.”

      Jade smiled wanly. “He’s efficient that way. This is Remington Tremaine and my associate, David Washington.”