“That’s good,” I murmur, only half listening, Kara on my mind. My mother on my mind.
He places himself in front of me, blocking the wall from my view. “Myla, you do know that all of this-”
“Is fake. Yes. I know.”
“No. It’s not fake. That woman, those women, and the love for your work, that is not fake. Your talent is not fake.” He reaches up and caresses my cheek, sending goosebumps down my spine, but this time, his touch is calming in ways I don’t try to understand, but welcome. “I need to-” he begins.
“I know,” I say.
He hesitates, as if torn about leaving me, before he walks toward the door, and then pauses there, turning to look at the photos of my mother. “She was beautiful,” he says. “And you do look like her.” He opens the door and exits, shutting me inside as he leaves me with a compliment that means more to me than he knows. Or maybe he does know. Maybe he really does see the me I’ve successfully blocked everyone else from seeing.
My cellphone starts ringing in my purse, and I know without looking who it is. I dig it out, and answer, “Hi Michael,” sounding cheerful, which is just one of my practiced emotions.
“Bella,” he murmurs, his voice deep and rich, but oh how I know the way it can whip and cut. The way, quite literally, he can whip and cut. “Do you love everything?
“I do,” I say, walking to sit at my desk, a cushy high backed velvet chair my new, but wobbly, throne, my briefcase on my desk where Kyle left it. “The lobby is stunning. Barbara is as wonderful as I’d hoped.” I laugh. “You got me chocolate coffee.”
“I know how you love your coffee,” he says, his little gifts part of his way of making me his pet. “I hate that I am not there to enjoy this with you, but business must come first.”
“Where are you exactly?” I ask, gauging the time I have to enact my plan.
“South America, but I should be home in a week rather than three.”
This news twists me and my plans in knots. “That’s wonderful,” I manage. “Three was forever.”
“It would have been an eternity without you otherwise,” he says, though I worry his motivation is really about assessing my loyalty and dealing with me. “How do you like your new bodyguard?” He asks.
“He just stares at everyone and he freaked the poor receptionist out. When I joked that he’s a robot, his reply was to simply stare her down yet again.”
He chuckles, something I always welcome, as it means for that moment he’s content, a state of mind we all want him to have. “No personality,” he says, “but that’s fine. I’m paying him to protect you, not make everyone feel at ease.”
“His coldness and constant monitoring is rather suffocating,” I say, knowing this will actually make him want to keep Kyle, not the opposite. “I don’t like it.”
“You always have guards. I always have guards.”
“I know, but…is there a threat I don’t know about?”
“There’s always a threat, but with us separated and you on your own in a new place, the chances of you being targeted are higher.”
“Why not use your men?”
“Kyle fits into your fashion industry more discreetly, and he’s from Dallas. He knows that area and his references are exceptional.” There are voices in the background and he answers in Spanish, which I’ve pretended not to understand, but do. “Tell him he’s dead,” he says to the other person. “See how he replies then,” he adds, before returning to me, to say, “Negotiations on a deal are heating up. I need to go.”
“Okay. Thank you again for all of this.”
“The world will know your gift, as we do,” he promises, but unlike Kyle’s, his are jagged edged, promising to cut me and make me bleed. As is his pause, which is followed with, “You haven’t mentioned the photos of your mother.”
That fizzle of unease starts up again. “No, I…they choked me up. I feel emotional, so it’s hard to talk about them, but they are wonderful. It’s such an amazing gesture.”
“It’s a connection to family that doesn’t risk death. It is something I thought you would like.”
The fizzle becomes bitter cold ice at what I know to be a threat, and I go into auto-pilot, barely remembering what he says next or what I say. Suddenly, the call is over and I am standing when I had been sitting. Family that doesn’t come with the risk of death. He was threatening Kara. Wait. My God. I’ve been a fool. If I am front and center in this fashion business, she will come for me. She will find me. And he knows it. He didn’t hire Kyle to keep her away. He hired him to know when she arrives. To know when the time to kill her has arrived. I consider a moment, to wonder if Kyle is involved, and I don’t think so. I really don’t. But this is my sister’s life I’m playing with. I have to find out for sure, because it’s time to accept the fact that my plan can’t work when she’s in danger. I need help.
Chapter Eleven
Kyle