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‘Go.’
‘But—’
‘Go now. I have things to discuss with Mr Linton.’
Shrugging, Claudette rose from her chair and left the room, leaving me behind under the intense scrutiny of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. With all my might, I managed to lift one eyelid.
‘What? Are you going to give me a lecture on not doing my duties?’
‘No.’ He continued to watch me, his intense gaze sending a shiver down my back. ‘How long have you been working, Mr Linton?’
I thought of saying something like, ‘Not long enough, Mr Ambrose! I must get back to work immediately. After all, knowledge is power is time is money!’
But in the end, I just went with the truth.
‘Too long for someone with a hangover,’ I admitted, resisting the temptation to sink down onto the table. For a solid oak surface, it looked extraordinarily comfortable right now.
‘Is that so? Hm.’
He regarded me for a moment—then seemed to come to a decision.
‘Get ready!’ he commanded.
‘For what? More work?’
‘No. To leave. Meet me at the front door in ten minutes.’
My head, already halfway down to the tabletop, came up again.
‘The front door?’
He gave me a supreme look. ‘Do you think that this measly little opera house is the only business in Paris I have to attend to? I cannot waste all my time investigating an incident that might have been nothing but the random act of a jealous singer. I have more important things to do. There are some interesting real estate investments I want to examine while I am here, and I need someone to accompany me through the city. Be sure to make the cantina cook give you something edible to take along. The real estate evaluation will likely take up the rest of the day.’
It took a few moments for his words to sink in. When they did, I felt a tingle rise inside me. My one open eyelid rose a little higher.
‘This “real estate evaluation”…would it involve us walking through Paris? Making a tour of the city?’
‘Probably.’
‘And would it also involve us passing some popular tourist attractions?’
He gave a jerk with one shoulder, that might have been a shrug. ‘Quite possibly. These are difficult to avoid here.’
‘And we’ll be feeding pigeons?’
‘If you want to waste your lunch, be my guest.’
‘Mr Rikkard Ambrose…!’ A grin started to spread across my tired face. ‘Are you asking me on a romantic rendezvous to take my mind off things?’
‘Certainly not!’ His spine stiffening, he sent me an arctic look. ‘I am here for business purposes and require my assistant, Mr Linton. So get moving, will you? Knowledge is power is time is money!’
My grin widened. ‘Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!’
City of Love, Bacon, and Eggs
I waited in the candlelit entrance hall, nearly jumping with excitement. I was going on a rendezvous with Mr Rikkard Ambrose! In Paris! And also in trousers. I would have put on a dress, but I had been expecting to march into mortal danger when coming here, and so hadn’t even bothered to pack one. Maybe I would remedy that at some point in the future, but for now…
I grinned at the sound of footsteps behind me and turned to face Mr Rikkard Ambrose marching towards me.
