Fear No Evil(Alex Cross #29)(24)

Bree had a clear view of Judge Marchant’s distraught face. Judge Les Freres waved his phone angrily at Abelmar. Judge Alsace had his head down, as if he found the white tablecloth fascinating.

When Bree turned back, Carole set down her second flute of champagne, along with a sliced baguette and a plate of six escargots cooked in butter, minced garlic, and shallots that made her groan twice with pleasure. She knew sopping up the butter with the bread was not the most couth thing she could do in a restaurant of this caliber, but she did it anyway after the couple beside her departed.

Bree noticed in the mirror that the big guy a few stools down was smiling and chuckling at her. She looked over at him. “What’s so funny?”

Still smiling, he bobbed his chin toward the escargot plate and in a pleasant growl said, “I do the same when I eat here. The sauce is just too good to pass up, and they bake the bread here every afternoon.”

Bree smiled, relaxed. “The duck is incredible too. I had it last night.”

“The duck,” he said, putting his hand over his heart. “Already put in my order.”

Henri the ma?tre d’ led two women in their early thirties to the bar. They took seats next to the big guy and immediately engaged him in conversation, which suited Bree, as Carole had just placed her duck dinner before her.

The dish was even better than Bree remembered, each bite an intoxicating brew of flavors that shocked, morphed, and lingered on the tongue.

She was so absorbed in her meal, she almost forgot why she was there. After eating more of the succulent meat, she set down her knife and fork and casually pivoted in her chair. To her surprise, the judges no longer seemed upset. They were all grinning and clinking glasses of red wine.

And Abelmar?

He was full of good cheer as well, laughing as he turned to peer across the room at the same mirror Bree was looking at.

Their eyes locked.

Abelmar’s grin crumbled and fell away.





Chapter





26




Bree tried to act as if she hadn’t noticed the billionaire looking at her, but her heart was pounding as she pivoted back to her meal and scolded herself for being so blatant.

Had Abelmar recognized her? Or did he merely think he’d been recognized?

He’s something of a celebrity, right? Bree thought as she forced herself to pick up her utensils. He must get people gawking at him. And we did talk last night. Sort of.

Bree kept her attention on her plate and focused on enjoying the rest of her entrée, the taste of which seemed to evolve as it cooled, giving the sauce a more caramelized consistency that made the way it lingered on the tongue even more remarkable. In her peripheral vision she saw Judge Marchant leaving.

Bree looked over. Judge Alsace and Judge Les Freres were following their colleague and acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

“How’s the duck?” Carole asked.

Bree turned back to the bartender. “I won’t tell my ninety-year-old grandmother-in-law, who is an incredible cook, but this may be the best meal of my entire life.”

“The veal is excellent too.”

“Tomorrow night,” Bree promised.

“Same dessert? Crème br?lée?”

“Please, and with a decaf espresso?”

The bartender nodded and walked off.

The big bald guy signed his check and left.

Bree took another bite of the duck, savoring it, before sensing something in her periphery. She pivoted slightly in her seat.

Philippe Abelmar was standing beside her and studying her with some amusement. “The duck again?”

“I could not resist,” she said, trying not to act taken aback by his sudden presence.

“I warned you that the duck can be an addiction,” the billionaire said.

“I’m beginning to understand that.”

His eyes danced and flickered over her face and chest as he said, “Do you know how an African lion keeps his dominance over a pride of lionesses?”

She thought about that. “Constantly fights other lions?”

“Not if he’s smart,” Abelmar said. “Not if he wants to live a long life. If he wants that, then he is actually sedentary much of the time, lying about in the shade with a bellyful of meat his lionesses have killed for him. But even then, in that sated state, the lion is still alert to anything new or out of place. The merest whiff of a threat and he acts, goes to the source of danger immediately and confronts it.”

“He protects his perimeter.”

Abelmar smiled and nodded. “That’s right. And if he needs to fight, he attacks right then, without hesitation. But more often than not, just the power, speed, and aggressiveness of the dominant lion is enough to send all inferior threats running without so much as a bite or a scratch.”

“Is that why you came up to talk to me?” she asked, frowning. “You considered me an inferior threat?”

“You?” he said and he laughed in a rather nice way. “No. I came because I wanted to see if you liked the duck and because you are a very beautiful woman.”

Bree smiled and said, “I appreciate that.” She held out her hand.

He hesitated and then smiled and took it. “Philippe.”

“Bree,” she said.

“Your accent is…interesting,” he said, letting go of her hand.