CHAPTER NINE:

/ It is a lovely, sunny afternoon outside today, folks! Don’t forget to bring your sunhats and sunscreens, wouldn’t want to get sunburn now, would we? /

The light snow continued to fall.

She buttoned up the plain black overcoat. Her hands steady. Her heart racing. She licked her lips for the one-millionth time. Her mind churning with words she had trained herself to recite. Plain and simple.

/ This had to stop. /

She reached for the black and white striped wool hat and shoved it roughly over purple locks. Green eyes filled with worry, stared back at her through the ornate hallway mirror. She looked…

~ Petrified. ~

She reached for her purse and almost jumped two feet into the air as the monotonous sound of the clock chime echoed the new hour. It was almost time. She stared at the address of the restaurant they were supposed to meet.

Café de Grande.

/ It’s showtime, folks! Let’s get this party started! /

And making sure that nothing was left out of place in her home, she stepped out to meet him.

~&~&~&~&~

“I suggest more description in your story, Mr. Spiegel. You sound so…so…vague. You wouldn’t mind if I put in some new ideas now, would you?”

He tapped his lean fingers against the blue-covered folder. Brownish-red eyes staring at the plastic smile on the blonde.

“It’s my story.”

“I know that, Mr. Spiegel…but we are trying to reach a whole new audience here. And as your editor, I suggest that you make a few…changes, that’s all.”

Eyes narrowed in irritation. A sharp hiss of disgust? Escaping full lips. “It. Is. My. Story.”

The plastic smile faded a bit. The pouting red lips pursing into a thin line…but only for a moment.

Oh, but she was good.

“Mr. Spiegel.” She was talking to a two-year old. “I know that this is your story and I know how…proud you writers all tend to be about such things, but believe me, this is for your best interest. Take my advice. Make the love scenes a bit more…realistic. People love those kinds of things.”

“It is a mystery story. Love plays little or no role in it.”

Her eyes narrowed now. She was losing it. He smirked.

“Mr. Spiegel…”

“Have you ever been in love… Julia?”

“Why…”

“Do you know what it feels like to have those butterflies flutter in the pits of your stomach? To feel like you are walking on air? That nothing or nobody could harm you because there is someone back home waiting for you? Do you have any idea on what the concept of love is?”

She shook her head as if to get rid of the questions. “Mr. Spiegel, I do not think that this has anything to do with…”

He silenced her with a sharp bark of laughter. “I guessed as much. You have no clue, do you?”

He looked at his watch. Almost lunch time. He rose to his feet. He had to eat somewhere good today.

“Hungry? I heard there is this great new place downtown…”

She smiled again…plastic one gone. “Oh yes, the Café de Grande. It is a wonderful place. Just give me a minute to get my things and then I will join you, okay?”

He slipped into his overcoat and stalked over to the large glass windows. The snow was still falling, dusting the bustling city streets below him with its coat of white. His eyes softened. He wondered what Faye was doing now? He ought to call her, to make sure she was alright. She had looked a bit sick this morning.

He spun around and headed to the phone…

“I am ready! We have to hurry. I hear reservations are going fast.”

He frowned. He would have to call her later.

~&~&~&~&~

~ God! Why does he have to look so good?! ~

She automatically handed over her keys to the valet and walked liked an automaton towards the smiling man. He looked oh so dangerous. Those seemingly gray eyes darkening with pleasure at her arrival.

“Faye. I am so glad you could make it. Please step this way. I have reserved a special place just for the two of us.”

He placed a strong hand beneath her elbow and gently ushered her into the trendy and almost filled restaurant.

“Ah, bonjour, monsieur Vicious!” The maitre d’ gushed enthusiastically. “Welcome, welcome! I see you have a visiteur with you today. Your special table, no? Please to step this way, mademoiselle and monsieur. Have a seat. Oui, oui! What shall we have today? The special? No? Just the usual? Ah, yes! You always did have the excellent taste, in the choices, Monsieur Vicious. Today, it is the fillet d’ mignon….”

Faye groaned inwardly and swirled the white wine in her glass absentmindedly. She hated this. She had grown up with it, after all.

/ Ah, Monsieur and Madame de Valentine, welcome! Ooo…it is little Faye-Faye! The little femme is all grown up now, yes? /

“I am sorry for all of that, Faye. I just seem to attract them like flies, don’t I?”

“You are rich and famous after all.” She replied coldly. She downed the sweet liquid and motioned for another. She was going to numb herself to everything. She was, by god! Going to get drunk.

“And so are… were you.”

She shrugged carelessly and downed her refill in another gulp. It burned down her throat like acid, but she didn’t care. It felt good. Veeeery good.

Was that a buzz coming on? She almost felt like giggling.

~ Wow…just two glasses, and I am already getting wasted. ~

He was talking again. She couldn’t hear a thing. She smiled…or at least she must have smiled, for he smiled back at her. She motioned once again for a refill. She watched him frown.

~ Oh, don’t worry Vicious, darling. I promise not to embarrass you here…yet. ~

She raised the glass to her lips again…and watched the couple enter the room. Her hands trembled. Her fuzzy mind urging itself to rectify the sight before her. She could have sworn she had seen…

~ Nah… ~

“Faye? Are you listening to me? I want us to have another chance again. I never stopped loving you, you know that. The woman I am with at the moment…I don’t love her. She is nothing to me. We were a marriage of convenience you might say. Please, Faye. Give us one more chance. I will do anything to get you back…”

“Spike…”

He shook his head. “I am much better than him. He cannot make you happy…”

“Spike is…”

“I will take good care of you. You know that…”

“Shut up.” It sounded oddly flat and listless. “Spike is here with another…woman.”

~&~&~&~&~

He had to admit, this Julia woman was one suave lady. True to her word, the restaurant was booked solid for the lunch hour, but she had smooth talked her way into securing a suitable table for both of them. It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do for now.

He eyed the menu and nodded in approval. Good choices. He would have to bring Faye here some time.

“And what can I get for you, monsieur?”

He made a face of contemplation and nodded. “I will have the fish.”

“Mademoiselle?”

“I will have the same with a salad.”

He took off his jacket and leaned back against the plush chair. His quick eyes observing the other patrons in the room. As a writer, he had to do a lot of that.

~ Observation. ~

She was talking about something. He didn’t hear a damn thing…as usual. There was the old couple with limp spaghetti between them. There was the young couple ogling at each other with pure lust. There was the business crew, discussing matters of no importance. There was the…

~ Silver gray hair…almost white…~

He could only see the hair and broad back. His lunch partner hidden from his view. Why did that man look so familiar to him? Why did he remind him of…

“That is Vicious. He is the owner of several conglomerates in the Western Area. A self-made multi-billionaire. We are trying to get him to write a story on his life. It is a must read for any one who hopes to get rich quickly.”

“Vicious, huh? Is he married?”

She nodded. “Yes, to Maria de la Caulle. The daughter to the Caulle dynasty. They just had a baby recently. They must be very happy.”

He made a sound of agreement, his eyes still trained on the white hair. “Vicious…”

As if by some unseen telepathic call, the shock of white hair slowly spun around as brownish red eyes clashed with icy gray depths. The air became thick with tension that was palpable. He found himself gripping his utensil tighter with his grasp as a smirk of loathing and…triumph came unto the other man’s visage.

“Would you like to meet him? I could arrange for that…”

Spike was still not listening. He could see Vicious beckon a waiter and whisper something to him. Seconds later, the same waiter stood in front of them.

“Monsieur and Madame…the gentleman in the upper deck has requested that you join he and his partner for lunch. Do you accept?”

And before he could control himself, he blurted out quickly.

“Hai. Tell him that we accept.”