Page 13 of Fool’s Gold

“Yeah, and I can fight in it too. Part of the job, remember?” Jack shook his head. “I’m just stuck on the whole part where you went from that to this.” He gestured out the window.

“Try not to think about it too hard if it’ll make your head explode. Or do it someplace easier to clean. This room came with carpeting for some reason.” He shooed Jack out and went to try to do something with his hair.

Jack wasn’t the first guy to find the change in his circumstances shocking. For some reason, it annoyed Matt the most coming from him. Maybe it was because Jack had actually spent time with Norah. How could he possibly think of her as a Scarlett O’Hara type when he’d had a chance to hear her speak?

He made himself stop thinking about it. He couldn’t control Jack, only the way he responded to him, and if he didn’t get a grip on that soon it was going to get messy in here.

Seven o’clock arrived quickly. The diplomatic service had sent armored SUVs to pick them up, so they were clearly taking security seriously. Well, that made sense. If saboteurs had bombed one car a few days ago, nothing would stop them from bombing another one today. Inside the car, Jack cleared his throat.

“So. You know Prince Daniel used to work for Five Star?”

“I think that came up earlier.” Matt looked out the window.

Jack looked good in his tux. Matt didn’t want to think about the way the outfit clung to his well-built frame. Okay, so he’d been in a bit of a dry spell. So what?

“It’s just weird for me, you know? I remember hearing about it. He was a normal guy growing up in South Boston, and then his brother married a runaway princess. His brother and sister-in-law died, he got joint custody of their kid with the sister-in-law’s brother, and the rest is history.” Jack snorted. “So weird, huh?”

“I guess. I mean we had a whole revolution to not have to think about princes, princesses, or other royalty, right?” Matt rubbed his temples. “But if Prince Eric thinks they can do something about this flu, I’ll happily singGod Bless the King, or whatever the national anthem of Corvia is. I don’t care.”

“It was a damn nasty flu, I can tell you that much.”

Matt grimaced. “You caught it?”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

Matt didn’t have anything to say to that, so he changed the subject. “Sometimes, I wonder if they hired me specifically because I didn’t have pharmaceutical experience.”

“Huh?” Jack scowled. It was better than his sneer, but not by much.

“I was looking to get out of the auditing business. Gram was too old to be on her own all the time, and I wanted to travel less. I wasn’t going to make partner, not with my background. I can’t golf for shit either. So when Besse came around and invited me to interview for the job, I took them up on it. I had healthcare experience, but not specifically pharmaceutical experience. And I wonder if that’s not why they brought me on board.”

“You think they used you because you wouldn’t recognize some of the shit they pulled? Yeah. Probably.” Jack shrugged. “Why are you telling me this? Think it’s going to get you sympathy?”

Matt snorted. “Not hardly. Not from you. Just working through some stuff in my head.”

He looked out the window again. He still couldn’t see any signs of foul play in the financials, but he knew it had happened. Maybe it was for the best if he stepped back from everything after the furor died down after all.

CHAPTERSIX

Jack gotthrough most of the reception on autopilot. He’d believed Matt was just like every other CEO he’d met—and Jack had met a lot of CEOs in his day. He’d protected plenty of them. He’d taken out more than one, always on orders of course.The fate of the free world depends, blah blah blah.

And yeah, he’d come to realize that the guys calling the shots weren’t always in the right. That was why he’d left the Agency in the first place. But this little bit of reinforcement wasn’t hitting the feel-good buttons the way it was probably supposed to. Jack knew he wouldn’t have thought twice if he’d gotten the order to put Matt down, back in the day.

And here Matt was, humbly bowing to a guy who might have the title of prince but who was really just the son of a carpenter from South Boston. Treating him like an equal, even though Dan Marshall had a high school diploma and Matt Taggart had an advanced degree in finance and a CPA designation.

Jack didn’t like being wrong.

He’d met Dan a few times, before he’d gone off and become a prince. He’d call them friends, inasmuch as two transient guys could ever really build a friendship. He’d kind of laughed at the idea of guys like them ending up with crowns on their heads, but a settled life looked good on Dan. He’d lost some of that hunched-up look he had when he wasn’t on a job, the defensive cast to his eyes.

Maybe it was the whole marriage thing that was doing it for him. The thought seemed almost as absurd as settling down did, but what did Jack know?

He didn’t let on that he recognized Jack, which proved that he’d been in contact with someone at Five Star. Instead, Matt introduced him as his partner, and even managed to do so without sneering or otherwise making faces. Miracles would never cease.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I was hoping we could have a quiet discussion maybe in twenty minutes, in there?” Dan’s smile didn’t falter, but he did indicate a smaller room off the main room with his eyes.

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