Page 16 of Charming Deception

I don’t care about that.

What I care about is that she’s one of Vance Industries’ brand ambassadors. She’s scheduled to attend the grand opening gala of the all-important Vance Bayshore resort next spring, and we need her there. We need her everywhere, like on the red carpet at her opening tonight, endorsing our brands. Not fielding rumors that she’s fucking me.

Graysen is going to be pissed.

But I’ve been aboard this roller coaster before. It’ll run its course.

I need to talk to my team about this, but fuck it. That can wait until tomorrow.

In my walk-in closet, I pull on a pair of loose linen pants. The sun’s going down, but it’s still warm. Tonight, I’ll have a quick chat with Clara; she’ll have Annabeth talk to PR, set up a meeting for tomorrow morning, while I spend the evening with Cole by the pool, a steak dinner, and maybe that bottle of whiskey.

I head downstairs and into the living room. No one’s around, so I continue along the hall on the other side, to the guest wing and up to the second floor.

Cole’s door is ajar, so I knock, then nudge it open. “Cole, you here?” The room is empty, so I send him a text.

Me: Where are you? Let’s do BBQ by the pool. I’m hungry.

I text Clara to get Chef on it.

Then I notice the flowers mounted on the bedroom door next to Cole’s. Fresh flowers on the door means occupied.

Someone’s staying in the room next to Cole’s.

I fucking told him no guests.

Last thing I need right now are the usual kinds of houseguests and parties that I have in my house. For nineties days, while I’m in no-sex hell, this is a no-party zone.

Annoyed, I stash my phone in my pocket and go back downstairs, heading for my poolside patio. But on my way up the hall to the living room, Clara approaches. She opens her mouth, but I cut her off as she hurries to fall in step.

“Why the hell is there someone in one of my guest rooms and no one told me?”

“I thought you knew by now. Mr. Hudson implored me not to tell you. He said he wanted to tell you himself.”

I slow down. “Why? Who is it?”

“His sister. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. He just seemed so…” Clara seems to agonize over the right words. “Broken up about her, when she called the other night.”

I consider that. I need more information, but I need it from Cole. “Where is he?”

“He’s waiting for you out on the patio. But I wanted to alert you, you’ve got another visitor. He’s at the bar.”

She doesn’t need to say more. I feel the distinct chill in the air at the same moment I notice the dark figure lurking at the bar in my living room.

As I approach, trying to scrape my head together to deal with this, he turns to me, and Clara wisely disappears.

“There he is,” Harlan drawls, leaning back on a bar stool and scrutinizing me. “The Vance family prince, back from his travels abroad. Sin City, was it?”

“Harlan. Come all the way down from your cave on the mountainside? I’m flattered.” I head behind the bar and pluck a couple of glasses from the shelf. “I didn’t know you could travel by daylight anymore.”

“And this is the warm welcome I get?” He pretends to be offended as he smooths his shirt. It’s a warm summer evening, and he’s wearing a suit, black on black, no tie. Pretty much what he sleeps in, as far as I can tell. “Your house girl didn’t even offer me a drink while I waited.”

“Maybe because she’s a professional, old enough to be your mother, and you call her ‘house girl.’” I mix us both a Manhattan, his drink of choice. “You’ve been a demon since, what, puberty? It can’t shock you anymore if the villagers toss holy water on you when you walk by.”

He ignores that as I slide his drink in front of him. “So how was Vegas?”

I know what he’s doing. Sniffing around to find out if I failed my challenge in Sin City. He doesn’t even try to finesse it into the conversation. Harlan doesn’t know how to finesse a conversation.

Maybe because he spends so much alone time in his crypt.

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