Chapter 1 #2
The younger man – or was it a woman? Nala often had trouble telling in places like Portland and had learned to stop assuming – rubbed their smooth face.
They looked aloof, but that was par for the course in Portland.
Hell, the Pacific Northwest. Must be a native.
No, a transplant. Nala was learning the difference.
“I suppose. I don’t get out much.”
“Ah, if you stay in this business much longer, young Padawan, you’ll have to learn how to get out and be social. It’s mandatory.”
“I suppose.”
“You say that a lot.”
The older man said that good-naturedly. Nevertheless, Nala heard a hint of frustration in his voice. Is that his kid? Why do I care? Anything to take her mind off her troubles.
“Ravenwood hasn’t done bad for himself here. Did you know he owns this block?”
They’re a woman, right? The way the young person moved insinuated they were unburdened between the legs.
The shape of their shirt suggested a bra beneath.
Sure, they had a neat and silky ponytail at the nape of their neck, but so did half of the men in Portland.
But not many of the businesswomen in Portland wore ties with their suits.
They adjusted their tie and tinkered with their cufflinks. Aloof, indeed. “I had heard that. I don’t get it, myself. Then again, I’m not interested in real estate. Or mergers and acquisitions. I just want to do my trade.”
“Sheesh, you really are young and new to this.”
“Let’s talk about something else.” The younger person picked up their drink and clinked the ice inside. “Anything but Ravenwood.”
“We’re in his place of business and giving him our money for alcohol. We can’t avoid talking about him. Why don’t you want to?”
“Suppose you could say he leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
They put their glass down and swished their drink around their mouth as if it did leave a bad taste.
Their wince intrigued Nala, who watched this through the corner of her eye.
“I also suppose the man can’t be avoided around here. I mean, as you said, look where we are.”
“Damn straight. It’s amazing to see how things have changed around here in the past fifteen years alone. I remember when the Pearl was… well, not as nice as it is now.”
Both of them dropped that part of the conversation after that. Nala was content to finish her drink and leave, but then…
“All right. Let’s talk about him. Xan Ravenwood, the man who owns half of Portland and developed most of the medicine in your bathroom cabinet.”
The younger person sounded sarcastic enough to annoy even Nala, who usually loved a healthy dose of cynicism.
“He loves to take over half. Why is that? Is he only half good at what he does?”
The older man smiled again. “You really don’t like him, huh?”
“He’s a narcissistic megalomaniac with a God complex. What is there to like about him?”
“Yet you’re here.”
“Well, it’s like you said. I need to be mindful of my business pursuits.” The tie became askew again as the younger person snorted into their glass. “Don’t think we’ll see Ravenwood around here for me to butter up, huh?”
“I hear he comes here a lot, but nobody ever actually sees him. Sounds like shit to me. If I were him, I’d build an exclusive club to hang out in. Or stay home. He’s got a beautiful place up in the West Hills. Was there for a soiree a few months ago.
The man knows how to throw a party to please the people.”
“I bet.” The younger person turned their head away. “Thanks for having a drink with me, by the way. I know you didn’t have to.”
“And give up a chance to relax with my favorite young entrepreneur? Please, Ven, I’ll pick you over my wife at home any day.”
“Around this town, someone might take that statement the wrong way…”
“Oh, I know.”
They switched to talking about the older man’s wife and kids, thereby losing Nala’s interest.
She slammed down her drink, the liquor warming her body and helping her relax.
These strangers all but confirmed that she would not see Xan Ravenwood around there anytime soon.
Her best bet was to do her reconnaissance elsewhere.
Build up some evidence that the man had something to do with her sister’s death…
Who was she fucking kidding? No one. The more the weeks went by and nothing happened, Nala considered moving elsewhere. Maybe not back to Carson City, but somewhere it didn’t rain nine months out of the year and the sun might shine on her pale skin.
“Was everything to your… liking?”
It was the hostess in flannel and fishnets.
At first, Nala thought she was being spoken to, but when she craned her head she saw a female couple emerging from a back room.
The butch, also dressed in a pristine suit, had a lovely young femme on her arm.
A femme wearing nothing more than a slinky red dress and a black mask on her face.
The way she curled her hand around the butch’s arm and batted her eyelashes said she worshipped the ground her partner walked on. Gag. Yet Nala couldn’t look away. There was contentment to the woman’s demeanor that Nala envied. She wished she could look so happy about her life. So… in love.
Ha. Love. Nala had a boyfriend once. Before Tasha died and took over her sister’s psyche.
That man? Nala thought she loved him. Then she realized that what she thought was love was merely a forced emotion that didn’t mean anything at all.
I’m not suited for those sorts of emotions.
She both envied women in love and feared for their souls. Maybe they knew something she didn’t.
“Everything was wonderful,” the masculine woman said with a silky voice. “Starling and I will be returning soon, for sure.”
“I’m glad to hear that. If there’s anything I can do for you in the future, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Oh, if you could go down and tell Mr. Ravenwood that I’ll be calling him tomorrow, that would be helpful. We were so… distracted… that I completely forgot.”
The hostess chuckled. “I will do so. He will want his ten o’clock Chardonnay, anyway.”
The couple left. Although the people beside Nala continued to speak of mundane matters, she ignored them, her mind focused on only one thing.
Ravenwood is here. He’s behind that door. I could find him right now.
Find him and do what? Ha! That didn’t matter.
Nala was young – and dumb. She may have more life experience and be more jaded than the average twenty-one-year-old, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel that rush of sheer invincibility that told her to take over the world with her mind and body alone.
If she owned a car, she would be exposed to bouts of reckless driving for the sake of it.
If she were a partier, she would be in and out of hospitals with alcohol poisoning.
If she had casual sex… well, that was neither here nor there.
Point was, Nala had her stupid vices like anyone else her age. Vices pinpointed on vengeance.