“Why do I suddenly feel worried?” he grumbles around his mouthful.
“I don’t know,” I fire back not even bothering to look at him. “Do capable women intimidate you?”
Milk, bran, and spittle spray the entire width of the island counter as he projectiles his breakfast.
“Am I…? Intimidated? Who are you and what have you done with Jules?”
“So, theydointimidate you! Good to know.”
His spoon lands in the bowl, splashing yet more milk onto the counter. “I’ll have you know that I’m rarely intimidated. There are very few people that can get around me, fewer still, who can go through me, and none who can walk over me.”
Interesting and probably the most he’s revealed about himself since we’ve met. “Which of those categories do I fall into?”
“You, I’d allow under me…but let’s be honest…we both know you’d be at your best on top.”
“Well, that is interesting, because my position is something I’m keen to discuss with you today. Do you think you could set aside some time to negotiate details later?”
“I can be entirely at your mercy tonight.”
“Hmmm. Tonight, doesn’t work for me. I’d like some time with you in your office. At your desk.”
Dax’s eyes light up. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” I watch him watching me as he takes his last spoonful and chews awkwardly behind a grin. I feel a little bad about manipulating him. He’ll not be expecting the serious requests I’ll be making, but there’s nothing to say I can’t mix business with pleasure, is there?
*
It’s mid-afternoon by the time I get a text to meet him in his office, and instructions on where exactly that is. According to the map he sent, there’s an entire wing of offices, meeting rooms, an employee restaurant, a couple of staff rooms labelled ‘the think tank,’ ‘the hub,’ and ‘the team station.’ Dax’s office is the one closest to the private apartment and rather than walk all the way around and parade through the business side of the compound, I sneak through the boardroom and the backdoor leading into Dax’s office suite.
Like my closet door, the boardroom exit is cleverly hidden and made to look just like the rest of the wall, but when you get up close the faint line in the wall becomes obvious. Still, it helps that Dax sent instructions on how to find it, I’d have never noticed it without prior knowledge.
I step through and find myself in a narrow space sandwiched between the door I just entered and a more traditional door leading directly into Dax’s office. To my right is a wall and to my left a skinny, claustrophobic looking corridor that leads off into the dark. Is the entire house filled with hidden passageways like this? It reminds me of an ant farm. Could these have been staff corridors back in the day? Providing unseen passage for maids to scramble invisibly around the house without upsetting the owners? It’s a little creepy but cool too.
I’m early, but not by much, so I’m surprised to hear voices seeping through the inner door.
“Are we done?” a familiar gruff voice asks.
Dax’s voice is a tether. As soon as he speaks, I feel grounded and yet strangely nervous. And then I hear the tone and irritation coming off him. “Not nearly, but I have another appointment, so we’re done for now.”
“The girl?” Frank spits out sharply.
Dax’s response is slow but thrums with a dangerous energy. “Why would you think that?”
“Because she’s the only one you’ve dropped everything for in years. Tom’s sitting in a hospital bed with bullet wounds, and you’ve barely even acknowledged him,” Frank reprimands.
“I’ve been at that hospital every single day,” Dax fires back. “What more do you expect?” I’m in no doubt they’re talking about me and I notice he hasn’t denied dropping everything, either.
“Have you asked him what happened? Have you questioned why he was there? You’ve grilled the girl, and you’ve hidden Ben because he was bothering her, but you’ve not even concerned yourself with Tom.”
“You have no idea what is going on, Frank. Lay off,” Dax warns darkly.
“No. We may not get along like we used to, but you once trusted my advice. So, for old times’ sake, I’m going to give you it now. You’re making this all about her. Let the girl go. She’s a vulnerability. She knows jack shit, so she’s not a danger to us. Let Franz have her. He’ll soon figure out he was wrong about her involvement. And if you won’t do that, then ship her out of the city. Someplace far off. Send her to her family, and stop obsessing over her.”
“You’re right,” Dax concedes, and my heart sinks. “We don’t get along like we once did and the last time I took your unsolicited advice, Celeste died. So, fuck your opinions and your solutions. I won’t lose to Franz ever again. Not Trevainne, not Tom, and certainly not Jules.”
Celeste? Sylvie hinted about Dax and her sister before, but this was the first time Dax has said her name out loud. But what does she have to do with any of this? Why put Celeste and Franz in the same sentence? Did he have something to do with her death?
“Is that what this is about? Competition? He wants the girl, so you’re not giving her up?”
