Chapter 30
Lily
Ikeep my palm over the top of my soda water as I wait at the bar.
It’s deserted except for a scattering of office workers in no rush to head home.
I try not to freak out at the memories that flicker across my consciousness.
All I get are snatches of a man’s face, and the smell of stale breath on my skin.
I remind myself that I’m not in a sleazy club. This is the Excelsis, one of the Moncrief’s top hotels, and if the staff have been trained half as well as the ones in Heatrush, I’m not going to have my drink spiked again. I check my cell. He’s late and there’s no message to explain the delay.
I’d come straight from work and my reflection in the mirror behind the bar is of a professional young woman. I’m worthy of something better. Someone better. That’s why I’m here. I just hope my nerves don’t let me down.
As I take a sip of soda water, I look longingly at the bottles of liquor that might settle my nerves.
My gaze drifts to the various whiskeys. It’s not my drink, but I know someone who likes it almost as much as he liked licking Cointreau off my lips.
I blow out a breath, not letting my mind go there.
I’m about to turn away when a label catches my attention.
“Excuse me,” I say to the bartender.
“Yes, ma’am?”
I point to a row of bottles. “Would you mind if I took a closer look at one of those whiskeys? I promise I won’t steal it,” I say, attempting a smile. They’re hard to come by these days.
“Sure,” he says.
He leaves me to read the bottle, and wanders to the other end of the bar, in no hurry to take it back.
Which is good, because I’m transfixed by the image that covers the entire label.
It’s an outline of a creature with an eagle’s head and a lion’s body, but it’s the wings that capture my attention.
The pose of the griffin is different to the one I’m thinking of, but the layering of feathers is almost identical.
Damn. Have I just found my first lead? I’m avidly reading the information on the back of the label when someone speaks.
“You’re a fan of the Griffins?” he asks.
I turn to find Calder Moncrief watching me curiously.
I’ve never met the man, but I’ve seen plenty of photos, even before my prep for this meeting.
The papers describe him as a Celtic warrior, and they’re not wrong.
His russet hair is wild and he’s even more intimidating than I was prepared for.
He wears a dark suit and black tie as if he’s just come from a funeral.
“You have this whiskey in your club too,” I say. What I don’t add is that it’s also the whiskey he stocks in his mountain lodge. Would he know I’d been there?
Calder repositions the barstool next to me, creating extra space between us before sitting down.
My palm covers my soda water again, but if he notices, he gives nothing away.
“We have a close working arrangement with our suppliers. You’ll find Griffin whiskey in all of our establishments.
Is that why you wanted to talk to me, Miss Kendrick? ”
“No, I wanted to know if you had any openings for a qualified accountant,” I say, setting down the bottle.
It’s a blatant lie. I am looking for a new job, and working for the Moncriefs would be a good move, but in truth, I just wanted to see if Calder would show up.
And he has. Such is the power of my association with Shade.
Calder sucks air through his teeth. “Not what I was expecting you to ask, but I could give it some thought.”
“What were you expecting me to ask?”
Calder reaches behind the bar and takes two glasses. Lifting the bottle of whiskey, he pours out two measures and slides a glass towards me.
“Thanks, but I won’t,” I say firmly. I’m never accepting another drink from a stranger.
“Ah, of course. Sorry. I wouldn’t either after what you’ve been through.”
“I don’t have much recollection of what happened, but I’m guessing I owe you a debt of gratitude. And Simon too.”
Calder’s face breaks into a grin. “As I understand it, Simon has received more than his fair share of gratitude.”
I will my cheeks not flush. I know he’s referring to Kaitlyn, who has gone out of her way to express how grateful she is to the doorman, but I’m not about to divulge any of her bedroom secrets to Simon’s boss.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I say, swiftly changing the subject.
Calder eyes me over his glass as he sips his drink. “I expected you to ask me for a character reference.”
My heart drums against my chest so fast that my throat tickles with nervous energy. “And if I did?”
“He’s a good man with a hard shell that most people, including me, could never hope to crack,” Calder says with all sincerity.
I don’t think he’s going to say more until his eyes lock onto mine.
“But somebody did, and I hope she knows to tread carefully. There are a lot of people who care about him.”
I want to tell Calder that one of those people is me, and I don’t just care about him. “Does he know I’m here?”
“You’d have to ask him that. You have his number,” he says. The casual comment is loaded, but before I can respond, he’s standing up. “And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve just arrived back from New York, and I have work to catch up on.” He starts to drain his glass.
“I’m sorry for taking up your time. Should I send you my resume?” I ask, only just remembering why I said I wanted to meet him.
Calder almost chokes on the last of his whiskey.
“I have your details,” he says. He smiles to himself when he adds, “And the final decision won’t be mine, I should imagine.
It was nice meeting you, Lily. I hope I’ll see you at the club, but don’t take it personally if your name gets removed from the approved list.”
“And why would my name be removed?”
“Again, that’s not going to be my decision. But it might have something to do with yours.”
He’s stepping away, but as he passes the bartender, he points back to me.
“Could you get this lady an unopened bottle of one of the Griffin whiskeys. I think she’d appreciate it,” he says, turning to give me a final wink before he leaves.
As I wait for my gifted bottle of whiskey, I do a quick search online.
My current knowledge of Shade might be limited, but I do know two of his brothers’ names.
Reid is the youngest, but I type in the name of the older brother who’d shown up at my apartment.
If I’m right about the whiskey label, an Ash Griffin should exist. And what do you know. He does.
I go straight to images, but there aren’t many results that show an actual photo.
Most of the historical images are of the whiskey branding, or people associated with Griffin Corps.
The fact that Ash Griffin’s privacy is tightly controlled is further confirmation that I’m on the right track. It must run in the family.
The photos I do find are from multiple news agencies reporting on a memorial service for an Alice Emerson just a few hours ago.
There’s a photo of four men in dark woolen coats leaving the church.
One has a beard and looks remarkably like the man who delivered food to my apartment.
Of the other three, I focus on the one wearing sunglasses with his head down.
I want to say it’s Shade, but he’s being camera shy.
I click on the image, hoping to zoom in for a better look, but the link must be broken because it comes back as page not found.
I return to my search, but now I can’t find the thumbnail photo either.
It’s as if it’s being erased from existence in front of my eyes.
And if that isn’t very Shade, I don’t know what is. But I’m not giving up.
Wikipedia is surprisingly short on detail considering the Griffins’ net worth, but my accounting experience does come in useful sometimes.
I log into federal and state databases until I find a listing of Griffin Corps and its executives.
Four names. Four brothers. I discount Reid and Asher, which leaves me with a choice of two. Hunter or Mason.
“Fuck,” I say out loud, but I want to laugh as I recall tracing the tattoos on Shade’s shoulder blades. A griffin and a mace. “You sneaky bastard.”
As I leave the bar and pass through the hotel lobby, I scan my surroundings.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Shade was watching me.
If Calder has returned from New York wearing a black tie, he was probably attending the same memorial.
They could have travelled back together.
It might explain how Calder knew all about the call Shade is waiting for.
Only now I don’t need to make that call, or ask the question.
I already know Shade’s name. The game is back on.
“I’m coming for you, Mace Griffin,” I say under my breath.