Page 68 of Twisted Enemy
“We’ve got the big conference room,” Alix says. “We don’t expect most bidders to start arriving until four.”
“Excellent,” Cole says. “Pyotr Tarasov should be here shortly.”
“Mr. Tarasov opened an account with us earlier this week.” The brittleness in Alix’s tone makes me certain she’s familiar with the bratva.
“We have some business to conduct before I take him to my gallery.”
“You’re welcome to use one of the small conference rooms.” She turns to the security guard, who is performing an excellent imitation of an oak tree. “Gerry? Could you please have Housekeeping set up the Marquis Room?”
As the guard picks up his handset, Alix leads us down a short hall. We pass a framed painting of a can of tomato soup. I’m pretty sure it’s famous, but I don’t have any idea why. Alix doesn’t seem to see the art as she opens a polished mahogany door.
The room inside looks like a movie set, with a wide wooden table surrounded by eight massive leather chairs. A wall of windows looks out over a grassy field. A video screen fills another wall. Everything in here smells like money.
“If you don’t mind,” Alix says, “I’ll leave you to your meeting. I’m still waiting on the curatorial reports for your paintings. You have my number if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you,” Cole says.
Alix has her hand on the door before she turns back. “I’m sorry, Cole. I have to ask. Is there anything I should know about today’s auction? Everything about our arrangements have been somewhat…unusual.”
He looks straight in her eyes. “Nothing I can think of. I just need to raise some cash on short notice.”
She nods, but a frown tightens her lips. As she leaves, a young man comes in, pushing a small metal cart. He crosses to the credenza and lays out refreshments—a carafe of coffee andone of decaf, another with hot water for tea, cans of soda, an ice bucket, and bottles of water. With crisp efficiency, he lays out mugs, glasses, and coasters. He leaves so quickly I can almost believe the drinks were set up by magic fairies.
I glance at the clock embedded in the video screen. We have ten minutes before Tarasov joins us. My belly ties itself into a gelatinous knot.
Cole takes the chair at the head of the table. Plucking his mobile from his breast pocket, he begins to thumb through messages that arrived while he was driving.
I start to pace beside the windows, reminding myself that I purposely came here today. Iwantto confront Tarasov. My wrists start to ache, and I realize I’m crossing my arms. I’ve been clutching my biceps as I walk.
Annoyed to show so little self-control, I jam my fists deep into my pockets. The fingers on my right hand come up hard against my phone. On my left, though, I find something as soft as velvet.
Puzzled, I start to empty my pocket. I catch a glimpse of dirty white, splotched with black and orange. It’s Kitty Mew-Mew, Megan’s childhood toy. After she abandoned me at the Four Seasons, it never occurred to me to give the stuffed animal to Cole. I haven’t worn these trousers since.
I jam the ragged fur deep into the pocket. Flexing my fingers, I help myself to a bottle of water. I don’t want to drink it. I just need something to hold.
I check the clock again. Eight minutes until Tarasov arrives.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I mutter under my breath.
“You don’t have to stay,” Cole says.
“What?” I whirl to face him.
“You can wait in the car.”
“I’m not waiting in the feckin’ car.”
“You have a history with the bratva. No one can expect you?—”
“So what, now? You’ve added head-shrinker to your resumé?”
“You clearly were indisposed the last time you saw him?—”
“And you don’t want some hysterical woman to quare your business deal with him now?”
I don’t know why I’m doing this, picking a fight. I don’t want to be this angry woman. I don’t want to be afraid. But a vise is tightening around my brain, and the words keep boiling over, without my choosing them at all.
“I don’t know what your angle is,” I say. “But you’re clearly lying to get what you want. I saw the way you looked at Alix, right before she left. She said things wereunusual. But they’re a hell of a lot more than that, aren’t they? What are you planning, Wolf? What exactly do you think is going to happen?”
