Page 5 of Lord of Pain
"Jack worked under my father in Mergers and Acquisitions. A couple of days after I caught him and Poppy in bed, my dad was murdered. They were having a business dinner with a client and Jack claimed they got mugged. Funny, though. The gunman shot my father and Jack walked out unscathed. Lucky guy, right? He even got a promotion. The Chads gave him Dad's job right after the funeral."
Don't you dare cry!
"He and Poppy got married less than four months later. What a love story." Roman's face is expressionless. I'm sure he's heard much worse. "If he's willing to murder my father, there's nothing he won't do, especially after hearing about the domestic violence charges, the teenage mistress and the gambling, and… I'm not letting Jack destroy the rest of my family."
Roman takes another look around my office. "How do you expect to pay for this, Violet? Your credit's good but you have less than four hundred dollars in your checking account."
"I have money." I raise my chin. "Investments. Over a hundred thousand dollars' worth. It's yours."
"Use it for a private detective," he says, rising and heading for the door. "Prove that Jack was behind your father's death."
Digging my fingers into the expensive wool of his jacket, I pull him back. "I don't have time! He's up to something. There's some skeevy corporate retreat next month and he's insisting that we have to go. Something bad is going to happen, I can feel it." He's not looking at me, I try to see any mercy in his impassive profile. "Please.Pleasedo this for me."
Gently disengaging my grip from his arm, he shakes his head, giving me a kind smile which makes this somehow worse.
"No. Hire a PI."
"Roman, will youlistento me?" He opens my office door and Larry, my assistant director is standing there, his hand raised to knock.
"Holy shit!" he gulps, looking up, up and up some more at my towering guest. "I can come back."
"No need." Roman flashes him a smile. "We're done here."
Chapter Three
In which Violet endures the worst lunch date in the history of terrible lunch dates.
Violet…
"Are we going to talk about the gigantic Greek god that just left your office?" Larry asks, gray eyes gleaming. He's sunk his teeth into this and I won't shake him loose until I give him an explanation.
"His name is Roman, so technically, that would make him a Roman god, not Greek," I say, shoulders slumping in resignation, accepting that this will take as long as Larry wants it to. He sits down, making himself comfortable, he's wearing a t-shirt that saysSorry I'm late, I didn't want to comeand outrageously expensive Gucci jeans that match his blue hair.
"You're so pedantic. Roman. Greek. Same thing. And why were we entertaining a supermodel in our office today?" he asks coyly.
"More like a serial killer," I sigh. "Or if a supermodel and a serial killer had a baby,thatwould be Roman."
"Tell me more," he prods.
"I met him at a fundraiser last week." I shift uncomfortably in my chair. "We talked for a while, I thought we might've hit it off, but…. He's sort of a heartless prick in real life."
He rolls his eyes. "Really? You're gonna pass judgment before you have a single date? See, this is why you haven't gotten laid in two years."
"I've been busy!" I'm stung. "I've had opportunities."
"Yeah, but none that you've taken," he says, unrepentant. "And I'm going to be honest with you, V. You're sort of cranky these days."
"It's… I have a lot of family stuff going on right now," I deflect. "That asshole Jack is upsetting Rose and Iris. He was harassing them at their high schoolgraduation,wanting them to go to a corporate party with him."
He's gratifyingly disgusted. "He's trying to set them up with some of The Chads? Oh my God! The girls areeighteen!"
"Exactly." I can feel a headache pounding against my skull. "Between Jack being his usual asshole self and writing that grant proposal, this week has sucked. I thought Roman might be a nice distraction, but I was wrong. If you let me get back to work, I'll take you to lunch and you can then condemn my tragic lack of a social life."
"Your lack of said social life has left you with a dusty vagina, which is more suited to a maiden aunt," he says. "I'm going to get you one of those starched, Victorian lace collars to wear if you don't improve your social life."
"Larry?"
"Yeah?"
