nightclub opening on Friday and the ball on Saturday. Plus, it’s not too far for our guests to fly. I’ll get the MSM team to move everything to Club Elana. The masquerade ball will be our best event ever.”
Mariella looked at her daughter, who’d been staring at her father for the last few minutes. “Elana? You have something to add?”
Elana shook her head and shrugged. “Looks like you’ve got everything covered, Mom. It’ll be great, I’m sure.”
Mariella narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “What’s on your mind, Elana? Spit it out.”
Her tone was a little harsh, she knew that. But she was done cuddling and cajoling. This family would sink if they didn’t grow bigger cojones. That included not skirting whatever delicate feelings her daughter seemed caught in.
“Well...what about the Fixer? Are we forgetting that this...person is still out there, pulling our strings?” Elana demanded.
A spike of anger and frustration threatened to upset Mariella again as her gaze flicked back to her husband. You’ve done this, she silently screamed at Harrison. But she composed herself and turned to face her family.
“I haven’t forgotten about the Fixer. But neither am I going to waste any more time on who it is or what their intentions are. This family is my number-one priority. It’s my only priority going forward. I’m taking control of it. If the Fixer, or anyone else, has a problem with that, they know where to find me.”
She picked up the purse she didn’t remember discarding on the bed, ignored the slightly alarmed looks her children were exchanging and walked out of the hospital room.
Gabe bit back a pithy curse and wondered, for the hundredth time, why he hadn’t hung up on this irritating phone call. Or even better, sent this client packing the moment she started to piss him off.
Yeah. Right. This was business. The shrill, aggravating voice was jumping on his last nerve, but beyond that was the more shocking notion that this woman was engaged to marry Luc. Gabe might not get along with his cousin, but still... The idea that Rachel had not only resorted to seeking the services of the Fixer to get rid of her rival but was going a step farther to advocate cold-blooded murder made his stomach turn. The timing of this phone call too made him think it was the reason she’d made her excuses not to come with the rest of the family to Whispering Oaks. Talk about stone-cold, selfish priorities. Jesus, did Luc even have the faintest idea the type of woman he was marrying?
Whatever Gabe did, he needed to handle this very carefully, or he risked this situation blowing up in his face.
Suppressing a sigh, he withdrew deeper into the darker part of the corridor. He was risking a lot taking this call here as it was. Not to mention he was missing whatever his aunt had been about to tell them.
The determined look on her face had bothered him a little. Hell, a lot of things bothered him these days. But he couldn’t afford to be out of the loop on anything, no matter how big or small. He certainly couldn’t waste time on this phone call.
“Did you hear what I said?” the voice demanded.
“You’re no longer happy with just running your competition out of town and you want to change the parameters of our agreement,” he supplied smoothly. His ability to compartmentalize was one of the reasons Harrison had relied so heavily on him. That and his complete lack of emotion when it counted.
Except he was feeling emotional right now.
He, like the rest of his family, had hightailed it here expecting to find Harrison awake and coherent, hopefully well on his way to a full recovery. Instead they’d arrived to find nothing had changed.
Gabe had been surprised by the deep ache in his chest when he’d witnessed Harrison’s unchanged condition. The fact that his security cam hack was sadly still in a state of flux meant he’d been just as stunned as the rest of the family—and just as determined now to double his efforts to find out who had been responsible for causing Harrison’s accident. The weight of carrying the Fixer’s secret had become heavier than he imagined. Not that he was going to abandon it soon.
Rachel, however...
“Need I remind you that this was what we agreed?” he drawled.
“You’re forgetting who the client is. You’re supposed to say how high when I say jump, remember?”
In your dreams.
“That’s not how this works. Perhaps you need to check with whoever recommended you as to how I do business. I’ve just told you how I’m willing to manage your problem—”
“And I’ve just told you that’s no longer enough. I need a more...permanent solution. It’s really no big deal.”
Gabe’s tone turned dark. “You’ll have to go somewhere else if you’re looking for that kind of work. If you want your competition to leave town and stay gone, I can handle that for you. That’s the only choice on the table. So what’s it going to be?”
“First of all, stop calling her my competition. She’s the goddamn housekeeper. She will never be anything but a nuisance. Second, I was told you were available for all kinds of work for a fee. If it’s the money you’re worried about, don’t be. I can pay you whatever you want—”
“It’s not the money. Trust me on that. Now, do I need to repeat myself again?” He’d dismissed Rachel as an airhead when Luc had first started dating her. His opinion hadn’t changed much except now she was turning out to be a dangerous type of airhead—one of those spoiled princesses who thought they owned the world just because a trust fund from Grandma or Grandpa drip-fed them an endless supply of money. He was willing to bet his vintage Rolex watch that she’d never done a full day’s work in her life. “Think carefully before you answer. Specifically, think of everything you have to lose if you keep pushing for this.”
“What are you implying? I thought discretion was your middle name,” she replied.
“My discretion is guaranteed. But are you sure you’re covering your tracks? This phone call, for instance. Are you sure it’s secure enough? What with everything being so traceable these days?”
She laughed, but the sound was a little forced. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”
He waited a beat, allowed the gravity of his words to sink in. “If you say so. My position hasn’t changed, but I seriously suggest you change yours back to the original agreement.”
“Come on,” she said. Her voice had dropped down two notches from shrill to an attempt at sultriness—which she wasn’t pulling off very well. Gabe lowered the phone, sighed heavily and banged his head against the wall behind him before putting the handset back to his ear.
“...can make it worth your while...just name your price. I have friends in seriously high places. I can put you in touch with a hell of a lot of work, make sure you’re set for life. Or...” Her voiced dropped even lower. Gabe swore if he closed his eyes he could picture her twirling her hair around her finger like a goddamn cheerleader leading a football jock to his doom. Shame it did zero for his libido. He’d never had a thing for bimbos. “It doesn’t even have to be all money. I can offer you incentive in other ways, you know what I’m saying?”
He knew. And he was trying not to crawl out of his skin. But he fed her a little more rope, just to see how thoroughly she would hang herself. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I have my ways. I have a friend who owns a private club where anonymity is a huge deal. We could meet there—”
“Let me get this straight,” Gabe cut across her, unable to believe his ears. “You’re offering me sex in return for getting rid of your rival? You think I’m so gullible that I’d risk my business for the promise of some tail?”