Entice Me (Stark Trilogy #3.11)(23)

I’m sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen island with Jamie beside me. Ryan and Damien are by the window, and though I may be projecting, to me they both already look forbidding.

Beside me, Jamie turns on the stool, looking between Charles and Evelyn. “He knew who both of you were, but he didn’t think about Damien?”

It’s a valid question. Evelyn was a very public representative for Damien back in his youth, and now it’s no secret that they remain good friends. And Charles has been his primary attorney for at least as long. Considering Damien features so prominently in Bertrand’s blackmail pictures, it’s surprising he didn’t make the connection.

But Charles just shakes his head. “Maybe he’s a damn good actor, but I don’t think so. I think having Wyatt’s editor friend call first made the whole thing seem more legitimate. He wasn’t thinking in terms of scamming or getting scammed. He was thinking about his bank account.”

I nod, grateful that Wyatt had been able to coax a friend at one of the top fashion magazines into helping us. She’d called to tell Bertrand that she wanted to do a spread with Carmela during Fashion Week.

“And Carmela?” Damien asks. “She’s still in with him?”

Evelyn nods. “She’s playing the role brilliantly. Thrilled about her modeling comeback, but cold and standoffish to Bertrand.” She shifts her attention to me. “Did she tell you she couldn’t act? I’d say she’s doing a fine job.”

“In my experience, Carmela has a knack for acting in whatever manner will get her what she wants,” Damien says with affectionate humor. “I think that trait is serving her well now.”

“When are we going in?” Jamie asks.

“You’re not,” Ryan says. “It’s just me and Damien.”

“And Nikki,” Damien adds. “She should be there for Carmela.”

I meet his eye, and see just the hint of a smirk. Apparently he sees the irony in me being there for Carmela as much as I do.

Jamie takes a step toward Ryan, undoubtedly to argue the point, but I grab her arm. “If you’re there, he’s going to be even more defensive,” I say. “Besides, you can stay here with Evelyn and Charles. Hang out. Go get a drink. We’ll find you when we’re done,” I say, looking her straight in the eye so that there’s no way she can miss that what I mean is that we’ll find her in my suite. Because that’s where she’s supposed to go next, to organize the party for Damien.

She crosses her arms and makes a face, but she nods. Then she pokes me in the chest. “You owe me one.”

“Definitely,” I say.

She flops back down on the couch. “So when are y’all going in?”

“Carmela’s supposed to call here, pretending to call room service.” I glance at my watch. “Should be soon,” I say, and the words are barely out of my mouth when the phone rings and Carmela places her fake order for a pitcher of martinis.

“Show time,” Ryan says, and Damien takes my hand.

Bertrand’s suite is one floor up, and we take the stairs. Carmela opens the door, her eyes wide, and leads us back into the parlor where Wyatt stands by the window, and Bertrand—a pudgy-faced man with a sour expression—sits at the desk, though he stands the moment he sees us.

“What the hell?” He whips around to find Carmela, who’s moved near Wyatt. “What the f*cking hell are you doing bringing that asshat and his little bitch here?” he rants, gesturing toward me and Damien. “And who the f*ck is the flunky?”

Ryan steps forward. “The flunky can kick your ass without breaking a sweat,” he says. “And the flunky is here to make sure none of these pictures—or any other similar pictures you might have squirreled away—get released.”

He tosses a folder onto the desk, the impact causing the photos inside to slide partially out. They’re the original blackmail photos we’d received back when this nightmare had originally started. “Those see the light of day,” Ryan says, “and you’ll learn the meaning of regret the hard way.”

To her credit, Carmela stands up straighter. “You see? They’re here to help me, Bertrand. You wouldn’t listen to me. Maybe you’ll listen to them.”

“What? You think I don’t listen? How do I not listen? You tell me you want a career? Haven’t I gotten you a career? I made you—and this is how you repay me?” He points suddenly to Wyatt. “You—Jimmy Olsen—get your ass out of here. You think I want this little confab recorded on film?”

Wyatt glances at Damien, who nods, then quietly leaves the room.

“The lady’s interested in terminating her relationship with you,” Damien says as soon as Wyatt’s out of the room. His voice is calm, but I can see the tension.

“That true, baby?” he asks, turning to Carmela. “I didn’t know you meant it. How could I have known?”

“Cut her loose, and we walk away right now,” Damien says. “But if those pictures get out, you’ll not only learn how miserable this particular asshat can make your life, but you’ll never work anywhere near this business again. Every person who came through this room today knows exactly what kind of man you are.”

“That so?” He pushes his chair back and kicks his feet up on the desk. “The way rumors fly in this business, sounds to me like I won’t be getting much work after today no matter how this turns out. Seems to me that if I’m getting forced into retirement, I ought to at least walk away with a little nest egg.”