Page 9 of The Betrayer
My slight smile turned into a full grin as I typed back.
Sure is. Looks like my night just got a whole lot less boring.
I typed in an address and told her to get there as soon as she got off work. Then I told her to wait for me. I would pick her up there.
Then I scrolled through my contact list, selected a name, and hit “send.”
It rang twice before someone picked up.
“Mr. Finlay. How can I help you this evening?”
“Barker. I have a young woman in need of your offerings tonight.”
A chuckle on the other end of the line told me my dirty-sounding quip had been appreciated.
“A young woman, blonde, very pretty, goes by the name of Steffanie, is going to be coming in. She’ll give you my name, so please take care of her.”
“How well, sir? And which dress are you looking for tonight?” came the question on the heels of the laughter.
“Whatever she wants.” My reply answered both questions succinctly.
“Excellent, sir.”
I heard scribbling in the background for a moment. “And how are you, Mr. Finlay?”
Barker knew about the gala, of course. He must have tailored at least half the dresses I would see there tonight.
“Doing well. Got some time out on the links today, although it looks like they’re going to make me late.”
Another chuckle from across the line. Barker and I had been doing business for many years, and after all this time, he knew me rather well.
“And the last young woman who came in here? How is she doing?”
The question was circumspect—the tailor was as famous for the judiciousness of his words as he was for his designs and stitching. Everyone knew he loved the latest gossip, and you had to be careful what you shared around Barker. But he was a good man, and I also didn’t care.
“I haven’t seen that young woman around lately.” I relaxed on the edge of the bed.
“Pity.” I could almost hear the man shaking his head through the phone. “She seemed most interested in you. And you, her.”
“She was a nice diversion for a while.”
“Just a diversion?” More probing in the question.
“Just a diversion,” I confirmed.
They all were, after a time, but Barker had an odd need to want to see me settled and happy. I was single and content, and nothing, no woman alive, could change that.
“I’m happy as a clam, Barker, doing what I do best. I like my life, and nothing you say or do will change it.”
A final chuckle told me Barker disagreed, but he wasn’t going to ask anymore. Despite our long business history, we weren’t so close he could push me as a brother would. Even my brothers didn’t involve themselves in my life—I felt they’d washed their hands of me a long time ago.
“And how is business?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“Business has been doing well. I can’t lie and say an extra gala-fundraiser this year hasn’t been good for it.”
“Well, at least someone is benefitting from this damn pageantry,” I grumbled good-naturedly.
“By the way, your son brought his girlfriend in for her gown for the evening.”
