Page 5 of After Midnight

Jameson looked down his nose at me before he opened the large decorative double arched iron front door and waved me inside. Guess his collar was too tight, since it didn’t appear as if he liked me shortening his name, something I made a mental note of to not do again. Once I was through, he shut the door behind us and led me through a large central hallway which emptied into the entertainment area of the house with an impossibly high ceiling. A large, wide staircase on the right led to what I assumed was private rooms on the second floor. The entire area was lit up by the large windows which allowed the natural light from the sun to bathe the area in an orange glow. A saffron rug split the room in half and was matched by thinner ones on either side while swallow tail banners with emblazoned trimmings swung with a gentle caress from the walls. Drapes colored the same saffron as the banners framed the windows and were adorned with burnished corners and fine patterns.

“Ah, Miss Moore,” came Victor’s voice from behind me as he entered. A surprising smell of gravel and whiskey invaded my senses as he approached. “Glad you could make it.”

I turned to greet him when I realized something. My mind flashed an image of a pink container resting in the front seat of my car.Shit, I forgot the eclairs in Daisy.

“And on your day off, too,” Victor continued.

“Yes, it is my day off, but I heard you requested me personally, so here I am. Speaking of which,” I stumbled, trying to get my thoughts into a clear, coherent pattern. “I forgot your eclairs in my car. I’ll be right back.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Eclairs?”

“Yes, eclairs. Itiswhat you ordered, right? Carl said you wanted two dozen of my world-famous eclairs delivered tomorrow morning to your estate. So, I have to go get your order, as I left them in the front seat.”

“Ah,” Victor said. His face lit up as if a lightbulb in his brain flicked on. “Right,eclairs.No need to worry about those, I’ll have one of my valets bring them in.”

Victor nodded to Jameson who then gave a half bow and returned down the long hallway. Victor then waved me over to him as he went to a small wooden desk on a side wall, pulled a tiny drawer out from the side of it, and produced an elaborate checkbook. Removing a black pen from the top of the desk, he opened the checkbook and began to scribble. “How much do I owe you?”

Victor was a fair skinned man. He had a narrow face with a rounded jaw, large nose, ears and lips. His brown eyes were almond-shaped and matched his brown hair which was clearly dyed to hide the gray. Long arms and legs with a lean torso showed no muscle tone, and made me wonder how he was able to give off a secretive feel about himself.

“One hundred, thirty-eight dollars,” I informed him.

“Let’s make it an even two-hundred. For your troubles.”

“Let’s not.”

Victor furrowed his brow. Probably was the first time in a long time a woman dared to tell him no. “Then let’s call it a delivery fee,” he said through pursed lips.

“Let’s not,” I returned. “I have to justify my income on my taxes. I try to stay on the government’s good side, so I don’t needanythinggetting flagged which might trigger an audit. That’s a headache Idon’tneed, and an extra delivery fee outside of my normal charges might raise a few flags.”

“Ah, yes,” he responded with a nod. His eyes went up and to the corner as if a fond memory played in his mind. “I remember when I used to fear the government. But, let me tell you, Miss Moore,” he said, returning our eye-contact and with a full-toothed grin. “There’s something refreshingly liberating when you no longer have to worry about being on theirgoodside.”

“I wouldn’t know. And I don’t care to know something like that, either, so please keep that kind of advice to yourself.”

Everything about this meeting was off. I didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, but I wasn’t going to be a willing participant.

“Quite right. You should remain the good girl. There’s enough bad girls in the world as it is.” Victor winked and I grimaced.

“And gold diggers.”

Victor raised an eyebrow.

“Which I’m not,” I said and leaned in a little to add oomph to ensure my meaning was understood.

“Ha,” he chuckled. “I would think not. Not little old Dream Moore. Daughter of Candice Moore. How is your mom these days, anyway?” He asked as he handed me the check.

“Goodbye, Victor.”

“No, Dream. Wait one moment, that’s not why I summoned you here.”

I tightened my fingers into balls and pressed them against my outer thighs, feeling the paper from the check crinkle against my skin. “You didn’tsummonme anywhere.”

“Ha,” he chuckled again. “It doesn’t take much to get a rise out ofyourdoughnuts, does it?”

“I’m thinking at your age, itdoestake a lot to get anything torisewith you.”

Victor narrowed his eyes till they were slits, and tilted his head. I might have gone too far with my last quip, but I didn’t care. Everyone else in this town may fear him, but I don’t.

“What do you want, Victor?”

---