A Wicked Song - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,68
quirk. “Fury? Really? It’s that intense, is it?”
“Yes. It is. I told you not to tell me—”
“Did you ask him?”
“Stop, Alexander.”
Savage steps to my side, an unexpected action on his part, but a welcome one. “Ready to go, buttercup?” he asks.
Alexander smirks at Savage and then eyes me. “I wonder why Kace has Savage guarding you so closely and from me of all people. He’s a man with something to hide, Aria. Ask the question.” He turns and enters the building.
I rotate to face Savage, who just plain towers over me. “I don’t know why you did that, but thank you.”
He motions me forward. “Let’s walk.”
I nod and wave to Steven as Savage and I head toward my meeting. A few steps in, Savage says, “It wasn’t because Kace has me guarding you from Alexander or some secret.”
“I know that. I believe Kace trusts me enough to know that I won’t let Alexander manipulate me or him that way.”
“Then you know that Alexander wants to play tic-tac-toe in your pants to hurt Kace.”
I laugh. “You are such a man of words Savage, but yes, I know but it’s more than that. He and this client I’m going to meet have something between them. He wants me to sell him any wine Ed wants to buy. It’s like a childish vendetta.”
“With your recent interactions with Ed and Alexander,” Savage says, “we looked into both men.”
I stop walking and face him. “And?”
“Ed mentored Alexander.”
“I knew he worked for him.”
“And Ed got very close to Alexander and his then-fiancée. Suddenly, Ed and the fiancée dumped him. Feels connected.”
“Like Ed and the fiancée got together?” I ask.
“Could be,” Savage says. “Which makes this personal for Alexander. You don’t want in the middle of that kind of personal. I’ve seen how Alexander burns people close to him.”
“You mean Kace.” I hold up my hand. “And no, I wasn’t asking you to tell me. That’s Kace’s story to tell.”
“I wouldn’t have told you anyway. You’re right. That’s Kace’s story to tell.”
A story Kace says he will never be ready to tell me, and more and more that feels like a problem. Not for me but for him.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Savage and I end our walk in front of Ed’s building. “Text me when you’re ready to leave,” he says.
“Thank you, Savage.”
“For what?”
“Giving me another reason to trust you,” I say. “I can tell you’re a loyal person and that you truly want to protect Kace.”
“And you, Aria. I’m protecting you. You can trust me.”
“I know,” I say, and the statement feels right and good to a girl who has trusted no one.
I turn and hurry inside the fancy high-rise building. It’s not long until the doorman has approved my entry and I’m upstairs. Ed answers the door and he is, as always, professional and rather regal in his carriage. He’s in dress pants, and a dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to display a surprising amount of colorful ink. There’s a skeleton of all things, and I believe an ace card. His tie is blue to match a few bits of the ink. The tats are a side of Ed I did not expect.
He’s a complicated, powerful man. I’m not sure he’s someone Alexander really wants to go to war with, but that’s none of my business.
Ed leads me back to his preferred meeting spot of his library, rows of books, and heavy mahogany furnishings as our backdrop. We sit in two high back chairs with a table between us. I reach into my Gucci purse and hand him the list of wines.
He glances at the list and his lips do an odd quirk. “It’s a fine list, an enviable list.” He glances up at me. “Have you offered it to Alexander?”
This is a question he’s asked, and I’ve answered. But I answer again. “No. To be frank, Ed, he offered me a large retainer to ensure you get nothing you want. I’m not comfortable being part of that and you were my customer before he ever tried to become my customer.”
“Honor is a hard trait to come by, Aria.” He hands it back to me. “I’m going to pass.”
I blink, surprised, accepting the paper. “Do you mind me asking why?”
“Because if you give me this wine instead of Alexander, he’ll see that as an act of war. It would put him on alert in a way I don’t want him on alert. Step away from this and sell the wine to someone else that isn’t he or