AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The house was—ordinary. The yellow paint had faded over the years, so it didn’t offer as much sunshine. The trim was intact and wasn’t peeled. Although, at the same time, it felt—old wasn’t the right word. Neglected? Forgotten?
Something. Those words didn’t quite fit either. I pulled into the circular drive and killed the engine. The front door opened to reveal a thick-necked man who stood easily somewhere around my height. I had no idea what his name was. He never said anything, and we hadn’t been formally introduced. His presence clearly declared that he was there to protect Mrs. Waldemar, and I should remember that.
“Good morning,” I said by way of greeting as I closed the car and pocketed the key. He just stared at me, silent and imposing.
At the door, I paused and held my arms out at my sides. His pat down was quick, yet thorough. I didn’t bother to try and bring a gun in. I left it secured in the car.
When he finished, I patted his arm once and passed him to head into the house. “Always good to chat.” The only answer he offered was to close the front door. It was early, so I headed down the hall toward the back of the house where the kitchen was located.
The smell of coffee and something sweeter wrapped around me, an invitation to come inside. “Good morning, Adam,” Margareta Waldemar greeted me as I entered the white, cheerful room with its marble counters and floors. The thick green thatched rug on the floor beneath the cozy table in the half-round windows offered the first real splash of color. Well, besides all the plants that filled the windows.
“Good morning, Mrs. Waldemar,” I said.
She closed the oven with a thump before setting down a tray of fluffy croissants. That explained the sweet smell. “I thought I told you to call me Margareta.”
“You did.”
“But you don’t want to use my name?” There was something almost kindly and amused about her as she removed the oven glove. A mug of coffee awaited her. She wore casual clothes for her, a light sweater top over slacks. Her shoes were basic flats. She looked like someone’s middle-to-upper-class grandmother, cheerfully at work in her kitchen.
“I don’t know that we should pretend to be friends,” I said rather than dance around the issue. From our first meeting, she’d had the advantage of surprise. Between that and her gender as well as age, I genuinely didn’t know what to do about her. It was a mistake to think she was anything but capable of cold-blooded decisions, and then she’d tell me to have a cookie.
It was unsettling.
She chuckled. “Adam, darling, you’re going to have to get off that fence before it leaves a permanent indention in your buttocks. Trust me, you cannot be on everyone’s side.”
“No,” I told her, folding one hand over the other as I stood there. “I only need to be on my side.”
“Only you’re not on your side, darling. Not at all. You sacrifice yourself for others, and even though you did it here, you’re still looking for the art of escape. What can you do to get out of this, or what will you be required to give up to do it?”
“So far, I haven’t objected to the assignments you’ve given me.”
She paused to consider me for a moment, then inclined her head with an almost grudging smile. “This is true. You have been quite the obedient young man. You’ve also been learning everything you can about our operation and how the business is run. I would say that you are one of the few who has a grasp on the extent of our operations.”
“You’re giving me far too much credit. I have an idea, not a full map, and despite that, I still don’t know where you came from or how you set up as strongly as you did without anyone noticing.”
“Don’t be silly,” she scolded, pouring a second cup of coffee. “One can hardly make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, as the saying goes. Just because you didn’t know, doesn’t mean others were unaware or we didn’t silence those who dug a little too close.”
Which relatively fit with what I’d surmised. Margareta Waldemar was a study in contradictions. Kind. Almost sweet in a way. But I’d also seen her pick up a gun and shoot a man in the head when it had been proven he betrayed her. Judging her only by her appearance would be a mistake.
“Come have your coffee and a croissant, dear, and we can discuss my next task for you.” She set croissants onto plates and I took the one she gestured to, as well as the coffee, and carried it over to the table. It was already set, and there was jam waiting, though I didn’t need it.
I waited for her to take her seat before I took mine and her smile was practically beaming.
“Your manners are impeccable.”
I laughed. “If my manners were that impeccable, you wouldn’t like me as much.”
“Oh, calling me out,” she said with a wink. “I like that.”
“I know.” I took a sip of the coffee.
“Yes, you figured that out during our first meeting when you made it clear that Liam O’Connell and his young lady were never to be touched again.”
I shrugged. “Your men made mistakes in taking them.”
“I disagree, but I see why you would think so.” She pulled apart one of the fresh from the oven croissants and it was perfectly baked. “That said, you trading yourself for them—well, let’s be honest, you traded yourself for her.”
And I’d do it again. Emersyn Sharpe had been used enough in her life. Losing her would have gutted Lainey. No, I had no regrets for my choices, except that it took me away from Lainey for far too long.
