“I have even heard a few whispers that she is actually behind his greatest successes,” Alain said as he waggled his eyebrows and took a sip of tea.
“It’s more than just whispers,” Lucien replied. Though he had his quibbles with Alex, her competence was not one of them. One only had to have a single conversation with her to see that she was incredibly intelligent. Was it really that much of a stretch to imagine her behind a desk undertaking the same tasks that plenty of other men across the city performed daily?
It would help our clients and the board have confidence in me.
He grimaced a little as he recalled her words from the other night. A lack of imagination was at the very heart of her little proposition, after all. “That is, she is quite capable of the work,” Lucien added.
Alain was still giving him that thoughtful look. “Hmm. I can see it,” he said after a moment.
“See what?”
But Alain only smiled at his petulant tone. “Let me make you something to eat. Then you should rest for your important meeting tomorrow.”
That was at least something Lucien would not object to.
Ten
The next morning, after a good long sleep and a hearty breakfast of boiled eggs, toast, and the most delicious strawberry jam, Lucien felt restored. As his jacket and trousers were still a touch damp, Alain insisted he borrow a brown town suit. They weren’t exactly the same size, as Lucien was a bit taller. Even still, it fit far better than anything he had ever worn before.
“And was this a castoff from the hotel’s designer as well?” he quipped.
Alain shot him a sly smile as he smoothed the back of the jacket. “Non. But I do have a good friend who works for a tailor on Savile Row. And sometimes gentlemen do not pick up their wares and I can get them for much less. They are still outrageously expensive, mind you, but I would sacrifice much more for excellent tailoring.”
As Lucien looked at his reflection in the floor-length mirror, he could understand the reasoning.
“Now hurry up,” Alain said with a clap of his hands. “I am done playing valet. There is a grand duchess checking in today and I need to make sure her room is filled with fresh-cut roses beforehand or else she will be very put out.”
“Good lord. That almost makes me miss the list of demands we would get ahead of our private events.” He and Rene hadn’t heldvery many of those, but they were a good moneymaker when funds were short—as well as a massive headache. He didn’t know how Alain could stand catering to the ridiculous demands of the very wealthy all day long.
“Keep that up and I’ll bring you to work with me,” he threatened.
“All right, all right.” Lucien raised his hands with a smile. “I’m going.”
Before Alain left for the hotel, he patiently explained the best route to take to get to the Atkinsons’ office and even drew up a little map. And for a short while, it worked.
Lucien left the flat with plenty of time and made it to the station but was then hustled onto the wrong omnibus by a hoard of impatient passengers, and when he managed to push his way off and board the right one, it broke an axle. Lucien then gave up on London’s transportation system and decided to walk the rest of the way. However, once he reached the narrow streets of the City, his progress slowed to a glacial pace.
Lucien tried his best to weave through the office workers filling the pavement but it was of little use. He would be late for his appointment with Alex. And she wasnotthe kind of woman one wanted to keep waiting. He let out a sigh of defeat and fell in step behind two men in nearly identical black suits and matching bowler hats. As much as he lamented his current precarious state of unemployment, the thought of being another cog trudging off to the same office every day to push papers or add numbers for some faceless owner who reaped most of the profits was even worse. Lucien had loved the satisfaction of running his own business, albeit with a partner.
He had met Rene in culinary school, where they both discovered their knife skills were sorely lacking and their tolerance for theinsanity of a professional kitchen nonexistent. When Lucien mentioned the idea of running a private supper club that changed locations and themes each week, Rene’s enthusiasm for the idea gave him the push he needed. And Rene was happy to let Lucien take the lead and enact his vision, while he stayed behind the scenes and kept the books. For the first time in his life, Lucien found something he was good at—or so he had thought. It turned out that having Lucien act as the face and brains behind the business had been an excellent distraction while Rene robbed him blind before running off with Madame Deveraux, the wife of one of their investors.
But because that wasn’t nearly enough duplicitous behavior for one man, shortly before the business collapsed, Rene had spread the word to customers and their other investors that it was actuallyLucienwho had been embezzling, but that, if they gave their money directly to Rene, he would reopen the supper club. Instead, he had taken the entire lot and absconded to the Riviera, leaving Lucien to deal with their creditors and swindled customers. When Lucien eventually managed to sort everything out, he had been left with next to nothing.
What a waste it all had been.
As the familiar taste of bitter regret began to fill Lucien’s mouth, Alex’s stern voice echoed in his mind:
Pity doesn’t suit you.
No. And he was so bloodytiredof going over the past. Of ruminating over things he hadn’t done and certainly couldn’t fix now. Lucien wouldn’t let it define him. He couldn’t. Just then he spotted Atkinson Enterprises up ahead, and he moved a little faster. This was his chance. And he wouldn’t let anything stop him. Not a broken-down omnibus or an unfamiliar metropolis or even the assured disapproval of a slightly terrifying woman.
But as he entered the lobby, Lucien stopped short and took a breath. It was cavernous, with marble floors and gold accents that brought to mind a particularly ostentatious Catholic church. Lucien was so busy marveling at the architectural details that he barely noticed the secretary right in front of him until she loudly cleared her throat.
“May I help you, sir?”
He snapped to attention and smiled at the young lady. “Yes, sorry. I have a meeting with Miss Atkinson. I’m Lucien Taylor.”
She scanned a sheet of paper on her desk and then pointed down a hall. “Take the stairs to the third floor.”
