Jean-Luc shook his head. "I've seen the movies. Gun-fights, Indians, someplace they keep fighting for called the Alamo."
Gregori snorted. "Dude, you are so behind the times."
"You think so? Have you seen the people down there?" Jean-Luc rose to his feet and strode to his office window that overlooked the store on the ground floor. "The men are wearing strings around their necks."
"Those are ties." Gregori gazed through the one-way window. "Sheesh, you're definitely in Texas. There's a guy wearing a tuxedo jacket with blue jeans. And boots."
"They must be barbarians. They're wearing their hats indoors." Jean-Luc frowned. "They remind me of the bicorne Napoleon used to wear, but they're wearing them sideways."
"Those are cowboy hats, bro. But what do you care? Look, they're spending money. Lots of money."
Jean-Luc leaned his forehead against the cool glass. After the charity show in two weeks, Simone, Inga, and Alberto would return to Paris. Then Jean-Luc would close the store under the pretense that it had failed miserably. His other Le Chique Echarpe stores in Paris, New York, South Beach, Chicago, and Hollywood would hopefully flourish, but this building in Texas would be empty and forgotten. From here, he would continue to design clothes and oversee the business, but he could never show his face in public for twenty-five long years. "Just kill me now."
"Nay," Angus said. "Ye're the best swordsman we have, and Casimir is still in hiding while he grows his evil army."
"Right." Jean-Luc gave his old friend a wry look. "Such a waste for me to die here when I could do it so well in battle."
Angus' mouth twitched. "Aye, exactly."
The buzzer on the office door sounded.
"'Tis yer wife, Angus," Robby announced as he opened the door.
Angus turned to greet his wife with a smile.
Zut. Jean-Luc looked away. First Roman, and now Angus. Both married and madly in love. It was embarrassing. Two of the most powerful coven masters in the vampire world reduced to doting husbands. Jean-Luc wanted to pity them, but the sad truth was, he was jealous. Damned jealous. That sort of happiness could never happen to him.
"Hi, guys!" Emma MacKay strode into the room and straight into her husband's arms. "Guess what? I bought the cutest little handbag. Alberto's wrapping it up for me."
"Another handbag?" Angus asked. "Ye doona have a dozen already?"
Jean-Luc peered through the window and noted which purse Alberto was wrapping. "Good news, Angus. It's one of my lower-priced handbags."
"Och, good." Angus hugged his wife.
Jean-Luc smiled. "Oui, it's only eight hundred dollars."
Angus stepped back, his eyes wide with shock. "Forget the bloody army. I'll skewer ye now."
Roman laughed. "You can afford it, Angus."
"So can you." Jean-Luc smirked at his old friend. "Have you seen what your wife is buying?"
Roman hurried to the window and looked for his wife in the store below. "God's blood," he whispered.
Shanna Draganesti was carrying their seventeen-month-old boy on her hip while she filled his stroller with clothes, shoes, and purses.
"She has good taste," Jean-Luc observed. "You should be proud."
"I'll be broke." Roman watched forlornly as the pile in the stroller grew steadily higher.
Jean-Luc surveyed the showroom. As much as he grumbled about his self-imposed exile, he was pleased with the prison he'd designed for himself. It was nestled among the hills of central Texas. The nearest town was Schnitzelberg, founded by German immigrants a hundred and fifty years earlier. It was a sleepy, forgotten place with Spanish oaks dripping moss and white Queen Anne homes with lace curtains.
All his stores in America boasted a similar design, but this one in Texas was different, for it included a large underground lair where Jean-Luc would hide during his exile. It was imperative to keep this lair a secret, so Jean-Luc's mortal assistant, Alberto, had reached an agreement with the contractor who'd built it. The contractor was on the local school board, so Jean-Luc agreed to make a hefty contribution to the school district through the upcoming charity fashion show. As long as Jean-Luc was generous with the town of Schnitzelberg, they would keep quiet about the bankrupt store that a foreigner owned on the outskirts of town.
And just to be safe, Robby had teleported into the contractor's office and removed all the blueprints and work orders related to this site. After the charity show, Robby and Jean-Luc would erase a few memories, and no one would remember there was a huge cellar beneath the abandoned store. Pierre, a mortal who worked for MacKay Security and Investigation, would guard the building during the day while Jean-Luc lay in his death-sleep.
He watched the party below. Simone and Inga were flirting with a white-haired old man, hunched over a cane. He had to be rich, or they wouldn't waste their time.