Page 58 of The Darkest Chase
Hopefully, this will just be a normal client consultation. I’ll follow him through the house, take notes on everything, write down his ideas, take photos, and make a few sketches if anything strikes me on the spot.
It’ll give me a chance to really see the place and keep an eye out for anything useful to Micah. I mean, I doubt Xavier leaves bricks of cocaine lying around, but there might be something.
Trays with leftover residue.
Paperwork related to illegal shipments.
Even something coded and scribbled in a calendar—or like a diazepam kit.
I Googled that last night, and I’m a little proud of myself for it. Diazepam treats a cocaine overdose, so if Xavier’s got himself a habit, he’d probably keep some around just in case he went a little too wild and needed treatment without anyone else finding out.
Who knows, I might just turn out to be good at this spy thing.
I’m feeling awkward again when I climb the steps to the mansion and realize I’ve still got my crumpled muffin wrapper and an empty coffee bottle.
I hold them tightly as the valet from before greets me with a muted “Miss Grey” and opens the doors for me. I look around for a trash can, but there’s nothing.
Jeeves lets out a patient sigh and holds out his hands for my trash.
“Sorry!” I mutter. I hand them over and follow the stone-faced man to Xavier’s office.
The mansion’s a little less intimidating the second time around, but I get that same feeling of unease when the valet brings me into Xavier’s space. He’s settled behind his desk, seemingly engrossed in a thick leatherbound hardcover book, but as I step inside he lifts his head with a charming, surface-level smile that doesn’t reach his lidded green eyes.
“Talia Grey,” he says.
I fight a shudder.
I haven’t asked him to call me anything besides Miss Grey, and he makes my name sound oily and oddly possessive.
But I force a smile, trying to keep it natural, though I can’t stop how my hands clench on the strap of my bag.
“Mr. Arrendell,” I say. “Good morning. I hope I’m not late for our walk-through?”
“Not late enough to matter.” He rises smoothly and sets the book down with a decisive thump, closing it without marking his page.
What kind of weirdo does that?
He rounds the desk, reaching for me with both hands—but I slip out of the way, trying to make it look like I’m just moving to keep from blocking the doorway as we step into the hall.
Xavier gives me a long look and smiles again, showing just a hint of teeth.
“You look eager today,” he rumbles.
“I’ve never taken on a project this large before,” I deflect. “I’m a bit excited, yes. I love to really flex my imagination.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I hope you’ll give me the full benefit of your… creativity.”
It’s an innocuous statement, yet the way he purrs the last word… Ick.
A lump rises in my throat, but I ignore it and keep smiling. “So where did you want to start?”
There’s a long, lingering look, one that dips over my bare collarbones.
It’s like he’s actually touching me, and it feels unclean—but it also feels like he’s testing me, too. Trying to see how easily he can make me react.
I fight to keep my bright smile even if it feels completely vapid now. I’d rather let him think I’m stupid than figure out how uncomfortable he truly makes me. I have a funny feeling knowing it would just make him do it more.
He seems to like getting me flustered.