hand.”
“I know.” I stop just short of rolling my eyes. “But if I can get him on our side, that’s one step closer to taking over the board. A big step.”
“Yes, but we can’t be sure of his intentions … or his … desires. You know what I’m saying here.”
Gross. “Rasmussen is what, 65?”
“Yes, 65, but not dead.”
“Hell, if flirting gets me the leverage I need, I’m certainly not above it.” I lie back on the bed and stare at the angular chandelier overhead. “I’ll do anything to get Magnolia.”
“Anything?” he asks delicately. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Go big or go home.” I can’t tell if this is empty bravado or if I’d actually sleep with Rasmussen if it meant winning Magnolia. After all, I already killed a man—at least I thought I did. What’s a little disgusting sex? Still, I shiver.
“Be careful, Evelyn. I know how badly you want this, but you need to be able to walk away if that’s what’s best for you.”
“I know what’s best for me.” I cut off that discussion. I don’t need a father, and I certainly don’t need Linton interfering with my plans.
We talk strategy for a few moments then hang up. I know what I need to do, and this opening couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s a new focus, a new place for me to spend my energy. Not the letter. The letter goes on the back burner. It’s just an invitation.
I sit up and swipe the letter off the floor, then open my dresser drawer and drop it in. Out of sight. In the dark.
If that beautifully-lettered paper is in there, hidden away, it can’t hurt me…
That’s likely the first of many lies I’ll tell today.
11
Lucius
Le Corbeau is packed, diners at every table as the wait staff bustles about with dishes. I sit at a table near the kitchen, my back to the wall. From here I can see everyone and everything.
When Evelyn walks in, I take in every bit of her. The white sundress, pale blue pumps, and the way she’s done her blonde hair. Breathtaking. I’m not the only one who stares. But I’m the only one who knows that beautiful exterior hides a tantalizing enigma.
She follows the maître d through the crowded room, but stops hard when she sees me sitting at the table. “Where’s Rasmussen?”
“My apologies, Ms. Delacroix, but he couldn’t make it.”
“What did you do?” Her eyes narrow as her cheeks turn a high crimson.
“We had a chat, and he decided his time was better spent elsewhere. So, I went ahead and took his reservation. You don’t mind having lunch with me, do you?”
“I’d rather eat with a den of vipers,” she hisses.
“Is that so, Evie?”
Her mouth opens, but no words come out. Yes, I know who she is now. Clever girl. My gaze strays to her hairline, to that false shade of blonde, and then to her eyes, a blue that doesn’t fit. The last time I’d seen her was the night of the Sovereign ceremony, the night when the Acquisition came to a gruesome end. What a wonderful evening it was.
It was also the night when I killed her brother. No wonder it had been so easy for her to pull the trigger.
She snaps her mouth closed, her eyes burning. “It doesn’t matter that you know my old name.”
“Does it matter that you shot me in the chest, and I have the entire incident on 4k video that I could easily hand over to the police? You were, of course, wearing a mask, but my cameras stretch quite far across my property and onto my neighbor’s. Including along the gravel road by the bayou, the one where you returned to your car and removed your mask. HD video is quite detailed, I find.” I must admit I love torturing her like this. Every word from my mouth is a lie. I have no video of her, and I wouldn’t trust the police with my luggage, much less my life. But the words still seem to hit her hard, because the color drains from her face.
“Please, Evie. Sit down.” I gesture to the chair across from me.
I don’t know why she complies. Not exactly. But I suspect that if she didn’t, her knees might give out on her.
I unfold her napkin and drape it across her lap. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for you. I’ll get you a Shirley Temple from the bar.”
That gets her to look at