She continued to stare at Glen, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“It’s Tuesday, three a.m. at home in California. If you change your mind before supper Thursday, maybe decide it’s me instead, let me know. Otherwise, fair warning, I’ll be gone. You won’t get another chance.”
She stood up, but he still didn’t look at her.
“Coward,” was all she said before she vanished.
Glen sat on the edge of the bed for the next hour without finding the motivation to move other than to breathe in and out. Finally he reached for his phone and dialed Simon.
“I need a ride.”
CHAPTER 4
“E’en, your Highness. Mr. Innes is here and havin’ whiskey at your table.”
The manager of the Highlander Club took Duff’s coat.
The prince smiled in greeting. “Thank you, Aels. I know the way.”
“Very good, sir.”
Duff descended the stairs to the wine room. His guest looked up when he heard the seal of the door swish open.
“Duffy!”
“Pey. You can no’ possibly have grown as respectable as you look.”
His friend scowled. “Of course no’. What do you take me for?”
After a one-armed embrace during which Peyton Innes never relinquished hold of his whiskey glass, they sat in companionable warmth. Peyton was the older brother, by three years, of one of Duff’s closest friends. He was big and ruddy and redheaded and gave every impression of being fearless. He’d gone into law and had been with an old legacy Edinburgh firm since graduation.
“Shall I ask how’ve you been or shall I ask what sort of solicitor services you’re in urgent need of?”
Duff smiled. “For now, let me just ask, how you’ve been?”
“Fine, Duff. Yourself?”
“Well. Your mate?”
“All will be well if I’m home before the clock strikes eight and no’ smellin’ like I’ve been makin’ love to Scotch.”
Duff laughed and glanced at the tumbler. “Should I be takin’ that from you then?”
“Only if I begin demandin’ another.”
After a few seconds of quiet, Duff said, “About the question of respectability…”
“Aye?”
“I’m hirin’ you to perform a few services on my behalf. I must know that you will be holdin’ the legal tradition of confidentiality sacred. I’ll be needin’ your word that I can count on that.”
Innes set his glass down and sat back in his chair as he gave Duff a professional look of appraisal. “Well, Duffy, I must be askin’ you a couple of things first. You know the law as well as I do. There are legal exceptions to confidentiality, as you are aware, and I’m previously bound by a partnership trust that supersedes any vow I would now make to you.
“Under the circumstances I would normally ask two thin’s, but in your case the first would no’ seem to apply. You are no’ likely to be involved in the pursuit of tax evasion since taxes are paid to you indirectly through your family. As to the second thin’, will any money launderin’ activity be involved?”
Before Duff could respond, the door opened was held open by the club manager while two servers delivered the mutton and potatoes, cooked and dressed to perfection, and served it on hand-painted pottery plates picturing a red stag leaping through a ring of heather. Duff didn’t need to glance at his watch to know that Aels would have made sure the request for service at six-fifteen was honored.
When the staff was gone, the room seemed very quiet of a sudden. Not wanting the moment to become awkward, Innes picked up knife and fork and cut into his meat. “Nothin’ like a ripe mutton, eh, Duff? Looks lovely indeed.”