Miss Fortune (18 page)

Rachel, she said with a smile.

Looking good, Rachel! he said with another wink, and handed her the two drinks.

The remark surprised her so completely that she almost withdrew the tray before he could set them on there. She blinked up at him to see if he was making fun of her. But he just smiled. Rachel smiled, too. And kept smiling as she reached the couple with their drinks.

FLYNN was napping peacefully when Joe shoved him awake by bouncing his head against the car window. Flynns eyes flew open with a curse. Bollocks! What did you do that for? he asked as he rubbed his head where it had collided with the window.

Hes here, Joe said.

Of course he is. Couldnt arrive a little late and let a bloke have a bit of a kip, could he, now?

Joe laughed. Dude. You act like youve never had to work a couple of full days before. Dont you have to pull extra shifts from time to $me over there?

Lest you forget, I am actually doing two jobs. The one Im paid quite handsomely to perform, thank you, and then, of course, your job, Flynn said through a yawn as he straightened his tie. Naturally, I am quite indebted to you for the opportunity, but that does not make me particularly adept at napping in a car, of all places. So which one is he? he asked, squinting through the windshield.

Joe handed him the binoculars. Tall guy, black suit. Flynn looked through the binoculars. A tall man in a black suit was hugging a trim woman in a tight skirt and high heels. As he watched, the woman reared back, said something, then went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Their prime suspect tightened his arm around her waist and held her to him, kissed her for what seemed awfully long for a man who had just buried his wife, and, presumably, his wifes dog,, as that little bugger had also had the bloody bad misfortune to have been murdered.

Ready? Joe asked as Flynn lowered the binoculars.

Quite.

Joe clapped him on the shoulder. You know where to find me, he said with a grin. Flynn opened the car door, and as he stepped out, Joe leaned over and said, Hey, bring me something back, will ya? Like a turkey sandwich, something like that. And oh yeah a piece of pumpkin pie.

Righto, Flynn said cheerfully, and slammed the door shut, knowing full wellas he was certain Joe knewthat he had no intention of lugging any sort of food item back from this posh little Thanksgiving gathering. It was most decidedly not his style to diddle food.

With the invitation they had secured (through channels Joe said), he walked up the drive to the front steps, where a footman in an Indian suit opened the door for him. He stepped inside the marbled foyer and was instantly greeted by Mr. Edward Feizel (of Feizel, Goldman, and Bernstein), and presumably, Mr. Feizels wife, both of whom looked exactly like the file photos Joe had shown him.

The Feizels were hosting a holiday party for their more lucrative clients and consorts, which, apparently, they did with annual regularity. It was, by all accounts, quite a smashing do.

Feizel squinted up at Flynn, a blank look in his eye as he searched his memory banks. Flynn handed him the invitation, and with one look at it, Mr. Feizel immediately nodded. Aha! Honey, its the guy I told you about. Mr. Oliver, is that right? he asked, extending his hand.

Thank you, Mr. Feizel, Flynn said, shaking his hand, then extending it to the missus. Good evening, madam , and thank you for allowing me to attend.

Oh, she said, touching her ear as she smiled up at him with big brown eyes. Youre quite welcome!

Feizels eyes widened slightly. Youre British? Shit! he exclaimed, and leaned into Flynn to whisper, I didnt know Wasserman was in that kind of dutch!

Flynn leaned into Feizel and said pleasantly, Actually, were not entirely certain Mr. Wasserman is involved in any sort of dutch, so its probably best to keep it all rather hush-hush.

Right, right, Feizel said, rifting a finger to his thick lips to show how hush-hush he intended to keep it. But between you and me, Ollie, I never much liked the bastard. He clapped Flynn on the back. The party is just through there, he said, nodding at a pair of double open doors that led into what looked like a ballroom. Help yourself to food and booze and have a happy Thanksgiving.

Thank you for coming, Mrs. Feizel said, still smiling like shed eaten a canary.

Ah, but thank you , Flynn said, and with a subtle wink for the missus, shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled into the party.

It was packed already, with half the guests milling around in some sort of ridiculous-looking pilgrim hats, the very same sort of hat that a maid tried to put on Flynns head. He politely declined, walked farther into the room, and had a look around, thought to himself that Joe would crap if he knew what beauties were milling about inside. There were plenty of them, all wearing tight dresses and sweaters that showed their rather curveless frames to their best advantage.

And there were plenty of chaps, too, dressed mostly in dark suits that made it impossible to distinguish one from the other. Fortunately, Wassermans height made it quite easy to spot him, and he was, remarkably, already in deep conversation with another woman.

There was plenty of time for Wasserman, Flynn figured, and he was a bit ravenous, so he walked to the buffet, helped himself to a plate full of grilled shrimp and little pastry cups with something mushy in them, as well as a cup of the black shit Americans called coffee.

He was just polishing off the last of the shrimp when a woman behind him said, How very boring of you.

Flynn turned to see who had said it and was pleasantly surprisedshe had long blond hair that hung straight past her shoulders, a skinny black dress that barely covered her bum and dipped almost to her navel. She was holding a martini in long slender fingers and sucking on the olive. He smiled, held up the coffee. Its rather chilly out.

She pulled the olive from her lips, dipped it into the martini, and slowly put it in her mouth again. I dont think weve met. Im Marlene Reston.

Charlie Windsor, he said, extending his hand.

The use of the crown prince Charless name did not register anywhere in the pretty blondes head, judging by her blank expression. She flipped her hair to one side before putting her hand in his, and blatantly trailed her fingers slowly across his palm.

Its a pleasure, Charlie, she said with a wink. Are you with FG and B?

In a manner of speaking they are associated with our firm on the other side of the pond, he said, smiling as she skimmed his palm again.

Im not with them, either, she said, now stirring her martini with the olive. Im an associate. They like to invite us to these things to remind us what were missing by not working at their firm.

And are you missing this?

She shrugged a little as she looked around. I dont know. Maybe. But I cant stand the thought of having to sleep with one of the toads who run the place. So did you come alone? she asked, moving, almost imperceptibly, closer to him.

Yes, actually, Flynn said, sipping his coffee. My fianceacute;e is in London.

Tsk, tsk , Charlie! Partying alone and so far from home! she playfully admonished him, and looked up at him through a pair of very thick and very long false eyelashes. Thats really very naughty of you. She smiled saucily, and honestly, Flynn felt his wanker give him a bit of a nudge.

All right, what was a poor chap to do? He was a guy after all, and a guy who, regrettably, had not had any sort of carnal relations in quite some time, and the sort of smile she was pointing at him now was designed to catch his attention. And besides, there was plenty of time for surveillance work, wasnt there?

Flynn smiled wickedly. It is quite naughty, isnt it? 1 really ought to be punished for it. What do you suppose my punishment should be?

Ooh , I dont know, she purred, licking at that damn olive again. Do you like spankings?

Adore them, he said, and grinned, a little lopsidedly, as he moved closer to Marlene but a movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and he turned his head before he could stop himself, still smiling

And saw Rachel standing there in an apron, gaping at him. For a moment, she didnt move, but then she suddenly turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

Blast it, this wasnt very good then, was it?

FROM Rachels perspective, it was disastrous. She wanted to die, right there, in the middle of that fancy house with all those fancy skinny beautiful people around herlet them deal with that while they wore their stupid pilgrim hatsa beached whale right in the middle of them. She could just imagine the scene, all gathered around her, cocktails in hand, peering down with looks of horror. Do you think the poor thing is dead ? one would ask

Excuse me, miss? Id like a scotch and water, neat, a man said.

Rachel snapped out of it, nodded curtly to the man, and walked to the bar, asked Mike for a scotch and water, neat. He poured the drink, looking at Rachel the whole time. You all right, kid? You look a little flushed, he said.

Do I? she asked, absently putting a hand to her face. Which was flaming, naturally, because even though Flynn was the jerk, she was the one who felt like a moron. And here she was in a skirt that was literally exploding off her and a stupid apron, of all things! Not exactly the sexy image she wanted to put out there, was it? Mike was still looking at her, however, and she quickly shook her head. Nah, Im fine. Just one too many turkeys in here.

He laughed, handed her the drink. Come see me if you need a little pick-me-up, he said with a wink. Ive got access to all kinds of good booze.

She smiled gratefully, put the drink on her tray, turned aroundand almost collided with Flynn. ,

He had the presence of mind to jump back, and once he was assured she wasnt going to pour a drink all over him, he relaxed and smiled. Rachel?

Think, you idiot ! her mind screamed. Oh! she said, looking very surprised. Flynn? Is that you?

I didnt know youd be here tonight!

That was obvious. What, he hadnt thought shed be invited to some posh party in the swankest part of town? Even to serve drinks? Perhaps she had failed to mention that she was dead flat broke and on the verge of selling her blood to buy food.

Yep, she said, a little loudly. Im here! And she laughed unfortunately, it came out more like a horses whinny.

He smiled, seemed to wait for her to say more.

She was so not going to say more, because she knew what it would be, something completely pathetic like, Why didnt you call me ? And as she had no desire to make an even bigger fool of herself, she smiled brightly, said,

Okay! Good to see you! and stepped around him, tried to waddle off.

Wait! he said, before she could take a step, and of course she couldnt help herself. Rachel turned around.

He was looking at her hair. I beg your pardon, but I thought I saw glitter in your hair.

She gripped the tray. As a matter of fact, she said, pasting the bright smile to her face, regretting ever having put it in her hair, its Stardust.

Stardust?

Yes, Stardust. You can get it at this little shop Wait. Scratch that. No need to mention the witchcraft stuff again. Its to bring me good luck. And what a lucky batch she managed to get her hands on! PMS, a skirt so tight it was cutting off all feeling from the waist down, and now Flynn at a posh party where she was a lowly serving wench!

Oh. He stood there, and Rachel could almost see the wheels turning, could almost hear him think, How in the bloody hell do I get my arse out of this one ? Its really quite fetching, he said.

I know Rachel responded, smarty-like, and turned around, marched away, hoping to high heaven Flynn at least had the good sense to look away from her butt.

She delivered the scotch and water, heard some elderly woman tell the man she was so sorry about his loss, and thought, judging by his expression, that the loss must have been a stock or something and kept walking, right through the swinging door and into the kitchen where she put her tray down. Anyone have a smoke? she asked.

One of the girls nodded and fished it out of her skirt pocket. Dont let Queen Mary catch you, or shell can you on the spot, she warned as she handed Rachel a lighter.

Rachel nodded, walked to the back of the kitchen, swiping up a few grilled shrimp as she went, and snuck out to the little area between the garage and the work quarters. She popped a shrimp into her mouth, leaned down to where Fraidy Cat was sitting at the end of her chain, and placed two shrimp in front of her. Hurry up, she said to the cat, and lit the cigarette, felt the nicotine rush through her limbs as she watched the cat sniff carefully around the shrimp.

She heard the crunch of feet on the drive before he spoke, and she closed her eyes, imagined what hed say. Im so sorry. Im an idiot. I adore you, and it frightened me Or the more likely, Uh, pardon, but could you move your car? Youre blocking me, and Blondie and I are going to go have a quick shag .

The feet stopped behind her. She took another drag off the cigarette, waited for him to say something that would crush her. But instead, he said, Hey, is everything okay?

All right, that was a decent beginning, better than she would have guessed, maybe a seven on a scale of ten. There was only one little problem. It wasnt Flynn.

It was Mike, the bartender.

MIKE was smiling, so she figured she hadnt been fired for sneaking out for a smoke. Im fine, she said, holding up the cigarette. Just having a smoke.

Mind if I join you? he asked, taking a pack out of his breast pocket and lighting one up, and therein answering the burning question of what, exactly, he was doing out here. And in fact, up on a small patio, there were several party guests huddled together, also having a smoke.

Mike laughed. Help down by the garbage cans. Guests this way. He looked around; saw the cat munching on shrimp. Whats that around its neck?

A chain.

A chain? Whats that, their watch cat? He laughed loudly at his own joke, but turned away from the poor cat and dragged on his smoke.

Rachel didnt think it was particularly funny. She thought it was downright cruel.