Page 90 of The Devil
“I’m afraid Mr McManus is not taking any calls right now,” she says before leaning in closer. She places a hand beside her mouth before whispering, “He’s not in a very good mood.”
I pull back and pretend to look all kinds of concerned, and she giggles over my teasing.
“Oh, that’s a real shame,” I continue, shaking my head for added effect. “Tell you what, why don’t you tell him that Lucius Hastings from PH Law is waiting for him downstairs. See if that cheers him up a bit.”
We stare at one another for a moment, wondering who’s going to back down first. Lucky for her, she picks up the phone and begins to dial up to the man himself.
“Hello, Sir?” She winces when the old guy begins shouting and cursing down the phone at her. I have to bite my lips together to stop myself from laughing; he really is a punchy old bastard. “Yes, but I have Lucius Hastings…yes,theLucius Hastings…” She looks at me with a smile and I raise my brow, showing her that I’m impressed that she knows who I am. “You can go up, Mr Hastings.” I smile in thanks as she gestures toward the elevators. “Top floor.”
“Thank you, I know where he is.”
I wink at her because she did just get an earful on my behalf. She blushes and looks away quickly, suddenly embarrassed by the attention.
As soon as I saunter into Abe’s over-the-top old-fashioned office, he is up on his feet and marching over to shake my hand, all the while offering me any drink of my choosing. Being the gentleman that I am, I thank him, then sit in the chair opposite, all the while declining his grand offers. I can see the perspiration beginning to coat his forehead below his bald head and ridiculous comb-over.
Abe flusters with papers over his desk before finally coming to a standstill, then leans forward and links his fingers together, looking at me for an explanation as to why I’m here. I take my time to answer his questioning expression because I’m enjoying his performance a little too much. I also know that the most intimidating thing you can do to a person is remain silent for as long as possible. It makes what you say all the more powerful when you eventually decide to put them out of their misery. So, I wait for him to give in first.
“W-what can I do for you, Mr Hastings?” he finally asks and I smirk to myself, imagining Helena giving me a gentle slap for my deplorable behavior.
“Well, now,” I begin calmly, “I was having breakfast with my daughter and her mother the other day-”
“You have a daughter?!” he gasps, looking and sounding quite stunned. I have to admit, it’s still strange to call her that, but also good.
“Yes, information I have only just been made privy to.” I smile over the memory of Helena and I having that talk with her on the lawn outside Cameron’s place. “Anyway, we were sharing a family moment, one of many, I hope, when low and behold, we receive a letter in the post from…” I pause as I feign confusion, then point at him, “…you.”
The old man points to himself, looking deathly pale, most likely trying to think why on earth he would have sent a letter to my family.
“Are you sure? I mean…I don’t…” He trails off, scratches his head, and pulls such an expression that even I feel like I owe him a little more information.
“Does the nameEvan Stonemean anything to you?”
“Ah, yes. He’s trying to get access to his daughter,” he begins to explain but when he sees my pointed expression, he realizes that ‘Evan’s daughter’ must be the same daughter to whom I was referring. Knowing he understands what I’m saying, I throw down the DNA results Jess had received about a month ago, followed by another set that we had done to prove that I am, indeed, her father. Not that I doubted Helena for a moment, but we all agreed it was for the best, if only to put her mind at rest. After all, she had been duped for years because of a set of fake DNA results. He picks them up, looking at me for permission before he does so.
“Oh,” he flusters, switching his attention between the letter me. “I see.”
“I would appreciate it if you desist sending Helena such threatening letters, seeing as my daughter would rather cut off her own arm than see your filthy client again.”
“Of course, my sincerest apologies, Lucius,” he says, so I nod with thanks.
“Do me a favor,” I say as I make to stand, “keep this information to yourself. Tell Evan you no longer want to represent him, but please do not mention my name.”
“Of course,” he replies with an over-the-top smile, then hurries to show me out of his office.
Lucius
With a smile of self-satisfaction, I tick Abe off my list and head straight for the second name on it, Anthony Parisi. He owns one of the fancier clubs in town, which doubles up as a place of business for less than legal activities, including drugs, gambling, and women. One of his guys searches me before I’m allowed inside his office, even though I know Parisi both personally and professionally.
“Lucius,” Parisi says as he saunters over and kisses me on each cheek before offering me the chair next to him. It’s a squeaky, white leather affair, without enough support for anyone larger than an eight-year-old child. Perhaps that’s the intention; to make you feel and look ridiculous in it.
“Uncle,” I utter. Anthony is my mother’s older brother. We only really got together properly when I turned eighteen. Paul was not keen on me seeing the family business until I was an adult, by which point, my future had already been mapped out for me.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, nephew?” I’m offered a drink of top-shelf brandy and a bikini-clad body to hold onto. I dismiss the latter for there is only one warm body I want to feel and it’s because of her that I’m here.
“I believe you and I have a common enemy; one we might be able to help each other with. A nuisance as it were.”
I take a mouthful of brandy and marvel at the warm, nostalgic taste that instantly fills my mouth.
“I see,” he says, looking interested. He begins scratching at his unshaven chin; the rough stubble makes a noise that has me wanting to shave it all off. “Who would that be, Lucius? I have many enemies.”