Chapter 19
PASHA
“I still can’t believe you burned the damn thing.”
I shrug and take another sip of my lemon water. “Felt fantastic. You should try it sometime.”
Senator Brennan chuckles. “That would be a dream come true. I’ll never understand what my wife sees
in that artist… what’s his name…”
“Ewing.”
“Ewing.” He drawls it out over his tongue with a twisted look on his face, as if the name tastes terrible. To
be fair, I don’t relish it, either. “Conrad Ewing, that’s right. I swear, I’m seeing his work everywhere these
days. Senator Gerhardt even has one in his office; can you believe it?”
As much as I hate it, I can believe it. Nepotism is a hell of a resource for talentless hacks like Ewing.
Sidney Conrad Ewing is a third–rate barely–graduate of Yale’s art program who wouldn’t have even been
admitted were it not for a generous donation bestowed upon the university by the wealthy Mr. and Mrs.
Ewing.
I know more about the bastard than I care to. It wasn’t hard to pull the records and follow the paper trail.
The only thing I haven’t been able to figure out is how the hell he ended up with a woman like Daphne.
Moya plamya. My little flame.
And my never–ending distraction. The second her face appears in my mind, I shake it away before I lose
track of the conversation.
“How is Cora these days?” I don’t care about the senator’s wife on a personal level; it’s just good to know
where things stand.
Especially when the dirt I have on Senator Brennan is only as powerful as his obedience to his
ball–busting wife. There’s a running joke–that–isn’t- such–a–joke about who the “real” senator is.
He’d never say as much, but I wonder if part of her power over him has anything to do with what she’s
like between the sheets.
Memories of Daphne flood my senses. Her soft skin beneath my fingertips, her lips caressing mine… her mewling gasps in my ear… the way she rippled around me…
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Brennan wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin. “She’s fine. Still pretty upset over the loss of that damn painting. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Tm sure there will be a new one. A better one.” A worse one would be damn near impossible, I think to myself. “In any case, tell me what you think about the new contract.”
I force myself to focus on why I’m here to begin with. I want to get it all over and done with. This place–gilt–edged tea cups, waiters in tuxedos with stiff upper lips–is not my preferred business
environment.
For starters, white tablecloths show blood far too easily.
Brennan nods and leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “I like it. In the way that ensuring our troops
are armed with the best of the best, I like it.”
I don’t like the hesitation in his tone. “But…?”
“But there are some concerns. About your sourcing.”
“That’s not a problem, Senator. I’m sure we can figure something out.” I nod to the waiter, who promptly refills my ice water. “Give me a few days to pull the records together for you.”
Brennan nods and tucks into his salmon without another word. I pick at the capers on my own plate. I don’t have much of an appetite.
My siblings, Makari and Sofiya, have been up my ass about tracking down the woman from the gallery.
I’ve rebuffed them at every turn. It’s better to leave the past in the past. Enjoy what Daphne and I had and let it go. I’m decent enough to recognize a bad idea for what it is.
I may be a violent bastard. But I’m not a selfish one. And she’s not fit for my world.
“Actually, on second thought…” I set down my fork and relax back in my own seat. Time to pull the reins
out of this idiot’s hands. “I won’t be giving you those verifications.”
Brennan arches an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Just like I won’t be giving Cora the latest batch of surveillance tapes from your recent… what was it you called it again? ‘Business trip“?”
He coughs on his food and frantically fumbles for his water.
I shrug. “It’s not much, I’ll admit. But even those meager ten minutes we did manage to grab happens to show you with your… shall we say, ‘associates.“”
“Now, Pasha-”
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“Interesting how you’re almost always away on ‘business,‘ and yet the one time I need to speak with your wife directly, she’s busy? And you’re able to step in on her behalf?” I grin and lean forward, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your sweet new secretary, would it? The one who joined you on that trip?”
Brennan’s face turns beet red.
I thought as much. Or at least, I had my suspicions. Everyone knows that Cora Brennan has her husband by the short and curlies; it’s better to discuss deals and contracts with her in order to get the senator to
agree.
Matter of fact, it was she whom I originally scheduled this lunch meeting with. Senator Brennan stepped in at the last minute to inform me that Cora had a “scheduling conflict” and he’d be handling the details
himself.
All I had to do was check the surveillance footage we stole to find out why.
“Can’t a man keep his privacy?” Brennan growls, his eyes darting around the room. I don’t blame him. Should anyone overhear, lips are bound to start flapping.
“When he’s stepping out on his wife? No.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Like you’ve got any ground to stand on. I’m sure you’ve got skeletons in the closet aplenty,”
“I’m not like you, Senator,” I answer coolly. “And thank God for that.”
C
