Page 101 of His Turn

“I’ll drop you off at the White Room. You can eat while I make arrangements.”

The drive over to the Club is not long, but it’s far too silent to be anything other than uncomfortable. It’s not busy when we get inside. Still far too early on a Saturday morning for that. So after Bric disappears I sit at a large back table in the White Room and stare down at my coffee.

“Oh. Hello?”

A tall, dark-haired woman I’ve seen around here before is standing at my table when I look up from my steaming cup.

“Ah… hello.”

She slips into the other side of the booth, folds her hands on top of the white tablecloth, and smiles. “I’m Chella. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“No…” I say hesitantly. “We haven’t. I’m Nadia.”

“Are you waiting for Bric?”

I nod. “Yes. He’s making arrangements.”

She cocks her head at me, like she has a lot of questions about that. “Are you his new player?”

Just like that. Are you his new player? “We live together,” I say.

“You do?” she asks. “Well.” An uncomfortable laugh squeaks out of her mouth. “I’m… I don’t mean to be rude, but Bric and I are business partners. We own the Tea Room next door. And he hasn’t mentioned you before.”

“It’s new,” I say, feeling stupid for admitting I’m part of his sick game.

“Are you living here at the Club?”

Jesus. What business is it of hers? “No,” I say, staying calm on the outside. “We bought a house. Yesterday, in fact. In Cherry Creek.”

“You bought a house together?”

“Can I help you with something? It’s not a good time. His brother died and we’re going home for the funeral.”

Her mouth falls open, like I just stunned the words right out of her head. But before she can say anything, Bric walks up. “Chella,” he says in that deep voice he has. “Can I talk to you in private?”

She looks at me again. Smiles. It seems genuine. And says, “Nice to meet you, Nadia. I hope you’ll come by the Tea Room when you get back so we can get to know each other better.”

“I’ll do that,” I whisper, watching Bric lead her away.

Did I win? I wonder. Did I really? Because right now I feel like someone’s mistress who was just caught by his wife.

They talk at the front of the restaurant, their eyes shifting to me once or twice. And then Chella kisses Bric on the cheek and disappears into the lobby.

Bric’s attention is focused on me as soon as he starts walking back to my table. And before he even gets here, he’s saying, “If I tell you something, Nadia, you don’t repeat it. I didn’t make that clear before now, so I’m not going to make a big deal about this. But I’m making it crystal clear now. I am a private man. If I wanted her to know my brother was dead or that we’re living together, I’d have told her myself.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t let it happen again. If you let anything else slip, I’ll have you signing an NDA agreement so fucking fast—”

“Whoa,” I say, putting up a hand. Because I suddenly realize I’m not sorry. “What the hell? She came over to me. Started asking me—”

“Don’t,” Bric growls down at me through clenched teeth, finger pointed at my face, “talk about me to anyone. Do you understand?”

I have a lot of things to say to that little outburst. Things like, Fuck you. And, Fuck off. And, Go fuck yourself.

But I don’t say any of them. I take a deep breath and decide I am winning after all. Because he’s losing his cool. Mr. Big Bad Bric has a weakness. And now I know what it is.

His privacy.