Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
She swallowed, her eyes widening at my words. “Do you think they’re related?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “It occurred to me, and I will be checking into it.”
“They say bad luck comes in threes.”
I chuckled. “I don’t believe in old wives’ tales.”
“Maybe we should go to a hotel for a while,” she mused.
“I thought about it,” I admitted. “But this building is safe. I know it inside and out. I can protect you best here.”
“I wasn’t worried about me.”
I stood and kissed her. “I know.” I pulled her to her feet. “Let me feed you, then I need some extra kissing time. I won’t see you tomorrow.”
She followed me to the kitchen. I had made her mushroom soup since that was her favorite and some sandwiches. She could eat the leftovers tomorrow since I wouldn’t be here.
“You leave early?” she asked.
“Around five. I won’t be home until late.” I smiled at her. “You get a whole Egan-free day.”
She frowned, and I couldn’t resist teasing her. “There was a time that would have pleased you.”
“No, I would have made you think so, but I wouldn’t have liked it then either. Now, I hate it.”
Her confession warmed my heart. “I like hearing that.”
“I like saying it.”
“I’ll be here when you get home the next morning.” Wanting to make her smile, I slid my phone her way. “Bentley sent me this.”
She read the screen, his message telling me I could have the cabin for two weeks in October.
“Egan, that is wonderful! I requested vacation time, and since I rarely take any, my boss was fine with it.”
“Then you, me, and the cabin.”
She grinned. “Perfect.”
I was at the hotel early the next morning. I scoped it out, familiarizing myself with the layout before I went to the hotel room. Roman Brock was a heavyset man in his early fifties. He was obviously used to getting what he wanted and had no problem expressing his wishes. He was constantly busy on the phone or directing orders to his PA. I stayed silent most of the time, observing. I stood behind him at every meeting, listening to him negotiate deals. He was very good at it, and I found it interesting, although he was difficult. His guards stood outside the office doors for all the meetings, which I found curious. Unable to help myself, I asked him why during a lag between calls. “Why do you have me in the room, not one of your own men?”
“They protect me. I do not like them to know my business. You have no involvement.”
I didn’t comment. It seemed to me that if you couldn’t trust the people who protected you with business details, you shouldn’t trust them with your life. But I kept my opinions to myself. I had a feeling not all his dealings were legal, but again, I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t know much about the import/export business, but I understood a few key words when it came to illegal activities. I made a mental note to tell Leo that the next time Roman called, I wasn’t available.
By the last meeting, I was tired. Roman was demanding and paranoid. Tense. I could feel his anxiety rolling off him. He contacted his wife several times, leaving the room to do so. For someone not expecting anything to happen, he was nervous. I had to check every room even after his own men did their sweeps. I had to follow him everywhere. He had his food tasted, luckily not by me. He had his own beverages brought to him. We had finally returned to his hotel, and once his room was swept three times, he ate a meal and rested while we took turns eating sandwiches, never leaving the door. The final meeting was in a private meeting room in the hotel late in the evening.
Grateful the day was almost over, I swept the room and assumed my position. Roman always sat with his back to a wall, facing the doorway. He was escorted into the room, offering me a terse nod. He sat down and snapped his fingers for coffee. I found his mannerisms annoying and degrading, but I kept my features neutral. My time with him was almost at an end. His chef poured the coffee and left the room. He met briefly with his PA, then sat with another man, speaking a language I didn’t understand. By that point, I didn’t really care, only wanting the day to be over.
His meeting ended, and he called for more coffee, once again snapping his fingers. After the cup was filled, he dismissed the chef and sipped his beverage.
For a moment, there was silence. Roman drained the coffee in one long drink then stood and turned to me. “You were an excellent addition today, Mr. Vulpe. I am sorry for my part in this, but I was given no choice.”