| Subject: À la Vie! - Chapter 29 |
Author:
Diane
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: Tuesday, November 02, 10:08:49am
In reply to:
Diane
's message, "À la Vie!" on Tuesday, October 19, 01:16:54am
Michael could tell that Simone was using from the moment he saw her. It was clear now where most of Roberta’s allowance was going—straight up Simone’s nose. He studied the face in front of him. She must have been beautiful once, with almond eyes and long black hair. He supposed that some people might still consider her to be “pretty,” but it was obvious to him that the drugs had taken their toll. Simone was unnerved by his perusal.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she said sarcastically.
Michael smiled politely. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve already ordered for us. Fettuccini Alfredo. Is that all right?”
Simone looked at him suspiciously. “Why are you buying me lunch?”
“You told Nikita we had a lunch date,” he responded smoothly. “I didn’t want you to be a liar.”
Simone snorted.
Carla leaned as far back in her chair as she could without being obvious. Damn Michael and his good manners. He talked so softly she had to strain to hear him. Simone was coming through just fine. So far, she couldn’t tell if the meeting was business or something else. The waiter chose that moment to bring her food, and she missed the following exchange.
“You have some information for me,” Michael said bluntly. “What is it?”
“I said my information isn’t cheap. Put an offer on the table.”
“One thousand dollars.”
“You’re insane. One thou will get you the weather report. We’re talking major news. Ten-thousand dollar major news.”
Michael didn’t blink. “Twenty-five hundred.”
“You’re not getting squat for under six-thousand.”
“Three-thousand. That is my final offer. I have a cashiers cheque in my wallet made out in that amount. Take it or leave it.”
Simone knew he was serious. She had expected more, but three-thousand in her hands today was a sure thing. She could always soak him for more later.
Carla had finally dumped the waiter, and was all ears again.
“Hand over the check.”
Michael pulled his wallet out of his breast pocket and removed a cashiers cheque in the amount of three-thousand dollars. He replaced his wallet and laid the cheque on the table, placing his hand firmly on top of it.
“What is the information you have about Nikita’s mother?”
All Carla caught was “Nikita’s mother,” but Simone’s reply came through loud and clear.
“She was a hooker. A prostitute. She’s got a record.”
“When was this?” asked Michael quietly.
“When she first came to the States—for about 10 years,” Simone said triumphantly.
“And you know this how?” questioned Michael.
“Before she moved, she was my next-door neighbor for five years. There’s not a lot about my neighbors I don’t know about,” she bragged.
Michael released his hold on the cashiers cheque. “I trust that this information will not get to Nikita?” he confirmed.
“Not from me,” Simone said blithely, cheque firmly in her possession. “But you know how some things have a way of just—slipping out.”
“And what would prevent that?” asked Michael, knowing that Simone had no intention of keeping her promise.
Simone picked up his hand. Michael raised his eyebrows. Simone said, “You’re a good-looking man, Michael Samuelle. I think maybe you and I can work something out. I know you find me attractive. You couldn’t keep your eyes off me when I first sat down.”
Michael stifled the urge to burst out laughing. Oh my God! She was trying to seduce him!
Carla had heard enough. Stuffing the hideous had under her chair, she stood and walked over to Michael and Simone. “Michael Samuelle! It is you! I’m Carla Sanchez, remember? From the café?”
“Of course I remember you, Carla,” Michael said warmly. “Have you eaten yet? Would you care to join us?”
Simone was stunned. Was he turning her down?
“No, thanks. I’ve just finished. The food’s great though. You should bring Nikita here sometime.”
“Yes. I will. Thank you.” And with that, so Simone couldn’t see him, he winked broadly at Carla. He had seen her the moment he walked into Volare’s, and guessed what Nikita was up to. He should have felt hurt that she didn’t trust him, but actually, he was kind of flattered. Carla blushed as she picked up her purse and walked over to pay the cashier.
“Hell-O?” Simone said, visibly annoyed. “Remember me? The one who could turn Nikita’s life into a living hell?”
Michael picked one of Simone’s hands in both of his. Her heart beat faster. “Simone,” he said softly, looking her directly in the eyes. “You know that I am a rich man. You should also know that I am a very powerful man, and I protect those I care about. That includes Nikita and, by extension, her mother. If I were to hear that there was any unpleasantness involved in either of their lives, you will deeply, deeply regret it. Have I made myself clear?”
Simone nodded. Her hand in his had grown cold. Suddenly the waiter appeared with their food. Michael stood to leave. “I’m sorry,” he told Simone. “I’m not going to be able to stay for our ‘date.’ Please, enjoy your meal.” He handed a fifty-dollar bill to the waiter and told him to keep the change. He strode confidently out of the restaurant, while Simone just stared out her food, suddenly sick to her stomach.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 