Chapter Two #2
“She didn’t succeed in getting his signature so I sent her back.” Her tone didn’t suppress her fury that Madelaine had somehow failed in her mission, which wasn’t the case at all.
“The goal wasn’t for him to sign fake papers, but to meet her. I say she succeeded admirably.”
Giselle hissed out a breath. He enjoyed seeing Giselle thrown off her game.
“If he isn’t already, Chevalier will soon be preoccupied with her,” he said.
“He can’t honestly believe she’s his dead lover.”
Madelaine disappeared from sight but Lucheux kept watch over the street.
He didn’t comment on Giselle’s statement because a part of him wasn’t so sure.
The resemblance Lainie Alexander had to Madelaine, Countess of Flandres, was beyond eerie and bordering on downright scary.
What if she was the reincarnated Madelaine? What would it mean?
Giselle turned to him, her expression incredulous.
“Surely you don’t believe it’s her.” When he didn’t respond, she laughed.
“You do!” Lucheux mashed his back teeth together.
He hated when Giselle laughed at him. Those pale eyes that disconcerted him on many an occasion looked troubled.
“You believe it too,” he said softly. “You’re afraid it’s her. ”
She stopped laughing and scoffed, but wasn’t able to stop the flash of fear in her eyes. His comment hit the mark. Interesting.
“Of course not,” she said.
Lucheux had known Giselle for many centuries. He was tied to her in ways that defied description and both sickened and enraged him. In all that time he’d never seen her afraid. He considered her fear quietly and tried to decide how to use it against her.
Lainie stood outside The Chevalier and rubbed a sweaty palm down her skirt. In the light of day the building looked different with its darkened windows and the door closed and locked. Not precisely abandoned. More like waiting for something to happen.
This early in the afternoon the only things moving were a few pieces of trash fluttering in the cool breeze. She shivered and stood at the front door in indecision. No line of people waited to get in. No bouncer turned her away. Nothing but a big, black door and her clamoring nerves faced her.
Last night she’d escaped this place, promising herself she would never return and now here she was, not even twelve hours later, right back where she said she wouldn’t be.
Damn Giselle. And damn the fact Lainie needed this job so much.
If she had only herself to worry about she’d walk away.
Forget the job. Forget the great pay. It wasn’t worth Giselle’s abuse or facing Chevalier again.
But it wasn’t just her. She had responsibilities and a sick father who relied on her.
“Come on, Lainie, don’t be a coward.” She’d never been a coward.
Not when the government stepped in and tried to take her family’s farm.
Not when she worked all day and attended college at night for five years.
And not when her father slowly shriveled away to a shell of himself after he lost his land and certainly not when she had to make the difficult decision to put him in a nursing home. Coward wasn’t in her vocabulary.
She looked to the right and left. Chevalier picked his place of business well.
At one time it had been an abandoned warehouse among a block of other abandoned warehouses.
According to the research she’d done at work this morning, he’d bought the block, refurbished the buildings and now rented all of them out.
Businesses lined the bottoms and apartments the tops.
Six years after his purchase people were on waiting lists to rent those apartments.
She couldn’t even imagine the amount of money he’d spent to undertake such a huge project.
But it paid off. He was now one of the richest men in Milwaukee and one of the five hundred richest men in the United States.
She looked at the door again. Time was up.
Giselle wanted those papers by tomorrow and Lainie was damned if she was giving up her Saturday to chase them down.
A surge of anger had her taking a step closer to the door.
Somehow she’d get those papers from Chevalier and be done with all of this, without having to go inside.
She knocked, tentatively at first, then harder.
I’m not going in. I’m not going in. She shivered even though the temperature was well past seventy.
Thoughts of last night spiked her fear. She didn’t want to relive last night.
Chevalier’s weird behavior. The strange visions.
Thank goodness the bartender never delivered her water or she would have thought someone drugged it.
And the strangeness didn’t end when she left the club either. It continued right through the night and into her dream of the woman running through the forest.
The door opened, startling her, but Christien wasn’t standing on the other side, rather the beautiful blonde was. The one with the killer boobs and silver dress.
Of course Lainie should have realized he wouldn’t answer his own door. And she should have realized he would have a gorgeous woman answer it.
The woman eyed Lainie with curiosity, a slight twist to her lips hinting at amusement which made Lainie’s embarrassment worse.
“Yes? May I help you?” Her voice had a slight European flair to it, the kind that ended every sentence with a question mark. She wore white linen pants and a white flowing blouse that Lainie was sure cost two of her very generous paychecks.
Lainie tugged on her skirt and resisted the urge to run her hand down her hair to make sure nothing was sticking up. Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing those ridiculous shoes she’d worn last night. At least she could feel her feet.
“I’m looking for Mr. Chevalier,” she said.
The woman’s half smile blossomed into a full grin, a knowing grin. As if women knocked on the door looking for Christien all the time. Which they probably did.
“Mr. Chevalier is unavailable. I can take a message if you wish and tell him you came calling.”
Came calling. What an old-fashioned term.
Lainie glanced at the blackened windows. She could use this to her advantage because not seeing Christien Chevalier again would definitely be an advantage.
“Actually, maybe you can help. I’m here to pick up some papers I delivered last night.”
Recognition lit the woman’s bright blue eyes. “Oh, I remember you now. I’m sorry, but Mr. Chevalier is taking a very important conference call or I would tell him you are here.”
Good. An important call meant she wouldn’t see him. Coward, her mind whispered, but she pushed the word away, preferring cautious. “Would you by any chance be able to get those papers for me? I’m supposed to deliver them to my boss as soon as possible.”
The woman contemplated Lainie for a moment. “I can’t,” she finally said, her voice full of regret. “He told us he was not to be disturbed. What is your name and number and I will have him call you?”
Lainie’s shoulders drooped. “I’ll wait.”
The woman frowned, apparently taken aback. “But it will be a while.”
Of course it would. Yet, what choice did she have?
Return to Giselle without the papers? Impossible.
Give the woman her name and leave? She liked that idea much better than the others.
It might be the easier choice but she’d be on edge all day wondering when he would call, if he would call, and what she would do when she saw him again. No. She wanted to get it over with.
“I don’t mind waiting,” she said.
The woman appeared confused, as if she didn’t know what to do with Lainie now that she couldn’t get rid of her.
“Can I get your name?” she asked.
“Lainie Alexander. I’m sure he’ll remember me.” Unless another woman had been accosted in his club and delivered fake papers.
“Lainie Alexander,” the woman repeated. “I will be sure to tell him.” She hesitated and looked behind her. “Would you like to come in? We’re not open, but—”
“No. Thank you though,” Lainie added, tempering her tone. The thought of going in made her shiver. Strange things happened in that building. Weird visions. Bizarre thoughts. “It’s such a nice day, I’d rather wait out here.”
The woman looked up and down the street, nodded and disappeared into the club, shutting the door behind her.
Lainie plopped down on the top stoop, resigning herself to a long wait.
The view across the street wasn’t a pretty sight.
A dirty, rusted elevated train track perched above a dried-out patch of land filled with dead, brown weeds.
Rusted machinery poked up here and there, giving the field an abandoned feel.
To her left and down the street were other warehouses, some still operational but most abandoned and covered in graffiti.
To her right began the rejuvenation process Chevalier started and others were completing.
Shops and storefront businesses had thrown open their doors on what was looking to be the warmest day of the year.
The lunch hour was over, but a couple blocks away a few people strolled the sidewalk and window-shopped.
The juxtaposition of the two sides of the street was odd but at the same time uplifting, reminding her life was a continuous cycle of resurrection, restoration and rebirth. What was old, was new again.
She considered walking down the street and looking into the shop windows. The day was warm and sitting in the hot son was making her thirsty.
“Madelaine.”
With a squeak of surprise, Lainie jumped up and spun around. Her foot slipped off the top step and her arms windmilled frantically. A strong hand clamped down on her wrist, hauling her back on the step and keeping its grip until she found her balance.
Her hand flew to her chest, as if she could physically stop her racing heart. She looked up into the clear, silver eyes of Chevalier.
“You scared me to death,” she said.