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“I dunno,” Jesse said with a crooked grin. “All that ‘other stuff’ is usually high on the list of things I need.” He chuckled at the look on Tom’s face then kissed his cheek. “But yeah, I think the friend thing could be good.”
Tom smiled. “I’m glad. So, remember you can talk to me, right? About anything.”
“Sure. You, too.”
Tom put his arm around Jesse’s shoulders, and they made for the car park.
“Perhaps we could try this again sometime,” he said, too easily, as he handed Jesse his helmet. “When the weather’s a bit warmer, maybe. Sometimes things look different in the sunshine.”
“Sure…maybe.”
Snow started falling on the journey home. Tom drove slower, taking the bends with caution. The sun was setting by the time they got back.
Greenway was waiting at the bottom of the staff staircase with a suit in a hanger bag. She held it out as they approached.
“You have twenty minutes.”
She strode away, and Jesse stared at the suit in his arms.
“I heard Cinderella was going to the ball tonight,” Tom said as he shrugged himself out of his coat. “Just remember what I said, yeah?”
He disappeared up the stairs before Jesse could reply.
The last time Jesse had worn a suit was at his mother’s funeral at age three. He’d worn jeans and a T-shirt to his father’s, much to Anton’s disapproval. He shook away the memories as he finished tying the sage-colored tie. That and the evergreen shirt enhanced his eyes, and as he blinked at himself in the mirror, he had to admit he barely recognized himself. He looked older and younger all at once and wasn’t sure what to make of it.
He contemplated his reflection for another long moment then took out his lip, nose and earrings then spent a fruitless five minutes attempting to tame his hair with wax.
Greenway was waiting in the hall. She had arranged her hair in a neat bun and put in a pair of diamond earrings but otherwise looked the same as she always did. The wind picked up as they left the house, blowing flakes of snow into Jesse’s face and undoing what little he’d been able to do to control his hair. Greenway led them around to the stables where a limousine was waiting. To Jesse’s consternation, she held open the back door for him.
He swore under his breath and climbed in.
Emory wore a fine navy wool coat and gray cashmere scarf. He was sipping from a glass of red liquid as Jesse took the seat next to him. The haemophile smiled.
“You look very nice, Jesse.”
“How long do you think this thing’s going to take?” he said, tugging his coat tight and folding his arms.
“I couldn’t say—a few hours, maybe more. I would like you to use the time to survey the house. Find out what systems they use, if you can.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes. “I thought I was coming to stop people from spying on your meeting?”
“That,” Emory said smoothly, drinking from his glass, “and assessing the security of the house. It’s all part and parcel, surely?”
Jesse tried to read his face, but the haemophile’s expression was guarded.
“I trust you had a pleasant day?” Magnusson said after a few minutes of traveling in silence.
“Yeah. It was nice.”
“Nice?” Emory said. “That’s all?”
“It wasnice,” Jesse insisted. “What do you want?”
Emory looked at Jesse until his skin started to ripple, then opened a cabinet at his side. “You like beer, I seem to remember?” He pulled out a chilled bottle of lager and opened it with the bottle opener in the cabinet top then held it out to Jesse.
“Aren’t I working?” Jesse said as he took the bottle.
“Of course. But we are going to a party. Cheers.” He held out his glass. Jesse hesitated before he clinked his bottle then swallowed a large mouthful…then another. He was grateful when the alcohol took the edge off his thrumming nerves, but when he came to the end of the beer his head was already starting to swim, and he didn’t dare ask for another.
