Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“So what made you choose this place?” Torie asked as they sat, sipping a nice glass of red wine while they waited for their meals.

“For what?”

“To celebrate?”

“I like low-key. Making partner’s a big step, you know?” Paul said, buttering his bread, then putting it down to use both hands to gesture. “It’s never been my ambition, though. I wanted to build a company, or take over one that’s really messed up and make it hum, make it profitable.”

“Really? You wanted corporate?”

“Yeah, well more like entrepreneur.” Paul shrugged it off, going back to the bread. “Then life intervened. I needed to get into a firm, get some experience. Who knew it would be eight years?”

“Yeah, time flies, and all that. I certainly never expected to work for TruStructure all this time. And now that I have, I guess I’m sorry I didn’t branch out more.”

“Have you thought about doing your own thing? Everyone knows you. They talk about you a lot at the Chamber, from the board to receptionist. I’ve heard your name mentioned at the leads group.”

“Wow, really? They talk about me?”

Paul smiled at her. “Yeah, they do. I guess you did a talk there about cooperative marketing to build business.”

“Oh. That.”

“I hear it was impressive. So, you have the contacts and the know-how. I saw for myself that they didn’t want you taking potential ideas out of there, especially if they were yours to begin with.”

“Yeah. I have to see if I signed a noncompete clause, or something like that. As you say, it’s been a while. I started there just before…well, you know.”

“Yeah.”

The waiter arrived with their dinners, for which Torie was relieved. She didn’t know how to talk to Paul about Todd. As emotional as they both got over his death, with everything going on between them, how would they?

She wrestled with the thought all through the wonderful dinner. It surprised her that this was his kind of celebrating. They were nearly finished with dinner when she ramped up her nerve to ask about it.

“This has been really nice,” she said, looking around the quiet restaurant, admiring the subdued décor. “Nice to go casual, eat good food in good company. Have an interesting conversation.”

“But?” Paul questioned. “I hear a big ol’ but in there.”

She laughed. “Yep. I’m wondering what happened to the party guy. Back in the day, you would have been dancing on the roof of the McClaren building, shooting champagne corks off the roof.”

Paul threw back his head and laughed, open and free.

“Yeah, you’re right. I would have. Now I wonder who would sue me, and for how much, if I hit them in the head with a cork.”

“Oh, come on, you would not.”

“No, but you have to admit, making partner is a bit more of a sober event than passing advanced law practice and principles.”

“No.” She giggled. “I don’t think so. Bigger milestone. I guess that means you should pick a bigger building and something larger than a two-glass split of cheap bubbly.”

“Hmmm, let me think. Well what about City Hall? Or the new Liberty Bell museum. That would be fairly high. Not the highest in Philly, mind you,” he said, pretending pomposity. “Can’t have that. Got to wait for a bigger milestone to do that.”

“Absolutely. But the bubbly, that can be the good stuff.”

“For the roof? Are you sure?”

They laughed and continued the scenario as they wrapped up the meal with coffee and dessert.

“Lord, this is delicious. Want to try it?” She offered him a spoonful of the tiramisu she was having. It was a date gesture, a comfortable thing to do. When she realized it, she started to pull the spoon back. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t like tiramisu.”

He took her hand, holding it steady as he leaned in, eyes on hers, to take the spoon into his mouth. “It’s nice of you to offer. Thanks. Mmmm,” he said, never taking his gaze from hers. “Tastes good.”

The teasing was gone. The easy camaraderie faded in the intensity of the thoughts written on his face. She could see desire there. Desire for her, for them together.

And she felt a fire well up within her as she was caught, held in place by the lightest touch of his hand. Every need, every nerve vibrated. The spoon quivered in her hand, and he smiled.

“Shall we?” he said softly. The words were laden with meaning, with passion.

She wanted it. Badly.

“Yes.”

He watched them leave her office, followed them to Paul’s house. Paul had let the bodyguard go before they went to TruStructure, which was helpful.

It was amusing to think of the time and energy Paul was wasting on watchers. He knew who they were, too. He had his own reasons for hiring them from time to time. It had been child’s play to watch Torie leave the building, see what kind of car followed her. Of course, if Torie knew she was safer during the day, it would ruin some of the fun.

He hoped they were coming back out. He didn’t want to sit out all night in yet another trashy rental car. They always smelled so used somehow.

He saw lights go on in several rooms. It amused him to imagine Torie stripping out of the snug pants she’d had on. He liked thinking of her, standing naked before him. Desperate, helpless. He wanted her that way. Again. And again.

His breathing quickened, and he could feel himself harden under his own seeking hand. It wouldn’t do to take care of that now. Not in a car that might be traced to him in some way.

No. Later, he would picture her behind those windows, weeping and helpless, ready for him to come for her.

He would be able to take her as he wanted to. Paul would be dead. Maybe, just maybe he’d keep her alive. See where things went from there. He could always kill her. Later.

The lights changed, with the outside lights coming on. It pulled him from his imaginings, and he eased down in the seat so he wouldn’t be seen.

The garage door opened and they pulled out. If Paul were leaving alone, ah, then Torie would be alone. How…convenient.

But, no. Irritation washed over him as they passed. He could see that both of them were in the car. He brightened a bit, though, thinking that they’d been in the house such a short time that Paul wouldn’t have had time to touch her again. He knew Paul couldn’t leave her alone. And Torie was a tease, a woman, after all. He knew Paul would want to have her. Besmirch her.

Unless he had a short fuse. He giggled at the thought of the infamous Paul being an early shooter.

He tamped down the amusing thought as he turned the car on and followed them. Not too close. As interesting as it was to speculate, it didn’t help him focus. He had to be cautious, keep his cool. Watch for opportunities.

The restaurant was small. The parking lot was dark, with shadowy corners. Even better, there was a lot above it, rising about six feet to one side. From there he could see the whole building, including Paul’s elegant Mercedes.

He curled his lip. As if buying a sleek car made the man better, made him more worthy somehow. Yeah, right.

Pulling the notes from his pocket, he reviewed the distances. If he used the nine millimeter as he had for the hired sedan, he might have enough of a clear shot to hit either Torie or Paul. The twenty-two was too wimpy for this, and it was safely disposed of anyway.

He squinted in the low light, scanning for more details. He wasn’t that far away, but he could easily leave the lot and go onto the side street without being seen.

Almost perfect. He would have liked to plan this out more thoroughly. He didn’t like chance. It messed things up. Everything that had gone wrong for him had been by chance. More time, and he would have had Torie. More luck, and it would have been him, not Todd, rolling in the millions. If he’d won, if he’d had the money, then all his father’s maunderings could have been cast aside like the drivel it was.