I was taken to a classy restaurant where the tables were covered in actual white linen and the silverware could have very possibly been real silver. There was a maître d’ as well, and I almost laughed. I hadn’t known maître d’s actually existed. I thought TV shows pretended they did.
We were taken to a booth near the back. Rosa perched on her seat holding a champagne glass in one hand while she tapped the table with the other. She jolted and rose to a stand when she saw Roger and me approach.
“Melissa!” Her eyes moved to Roger.
“This is Roger,” I introduced.
“I know. I’ve met him several times. Why don’t you both sit?”
I wanted to ask where and how she’d met Roger, but I suppose it wasn’t strange that two of Ezekiel’s employees happened to meet. I let it go and sank into the booth across from Rosa.
“You look lovely,” Rosa said with a brittle smile.
I nodded and reached for the champagne bottle in the center of the table. I wasn’t one to drink alcohol in the morning, but I needed something to calm my nerves, especially since I hadn’t had a chance for a hit yet.
The waiter didn’t waste time. I couldn’t pronounce most of what was on the menu, and even if I could have, I still had no clue what it was. I went with the only thing I knew—quiche. And that was only after Roger told me how to pronounce it. I’d always assumed it was something like “quee-chee.” Even then, I didn’t really know what it was. I knew it was a word sometimes mentioned on TV.
“I’ve been told that we’re all staying here a week,” Rosa murmured. “What does he need a week down here for?”
“Business,” Roger muttered.
Rosa sighed. “Not business involving any of us, apparently.”
Roger shrugged. “I’m not one to complain.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind, but this is Ezekiel. And I have a bad feeling about the whole thing.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Roger reached for his glass of water, which the waiter produced at his request. “Ezekiel makes sure business doesn’t leak into pleasure, and vice versa. If you’re expecting car chases down Main Avenue, you can forget it.”
“You seem to know him well.”
“I’ve been working with him for a year now.”
“And?” Rosa goaded.
Roger narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not in the position to discuss Ezekiel’s business. That’s a good way to get in trouble. And by ‘get in trouble’, I don’t mean ‘get fired.’” He didn’t explain what he did mean, but I already assumed it meant something involving some degree of death.
Rosa turned to me. “We shouldn’t talk about this with you.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“You’re his companion.”
They really thought I was going to take Ezekiel’s side on this one? Wasn’t I worthy of their trust? “You think I’m a snitch?”
“Of course not.”
“You can say whatever you want about Ezekiel. I don’t think I’m bugged,” I joked.
Rosa and Roger looked at one another, then back to me. Roger said, “I don’t want to alarm you, since you’re closest to him.”
“I’m not close to him. I’m an employee who does what she’s told, like you two.” I slurped a bit too aggressively at my champagne.
“Maybe we should keep the gossip to a minimum,” Roger suggested. “Rosa, it’s best to stick with what you’re good at and don’t worry about Ezekiel.”
“Don’t worry about Ezekiel?” Rosa blurted. “Excuse me, but I’ve heard a great deal about him, none of it good. Do you honestly feel no qualms working for him?”
Roger sipped at his drink. “Maybe. Do you?”
“I wasn’t sure of what I was getting into in the beginning. I knew his business was shady, but I didn’t know how shady. So I came into this ignorant.”
“I did, too, at least a little. I knew what I was doing was illegal—protecting a criminal—but I wasn’t sure how illegal.” Roger glanced at me. “If you’re worried, Rosa, back out. Ezekiel won’t stop you. No one’s forcing you to stay.”
“It’s not even me I’m that worried about.” Rosa glanced at me. “It’s Melissa.”
“I can take care of myself,” I muttered. Five years ago, I might have needed a mother figure, but now I was a grown woman who didn’t appreciate being told what to do. Rosa was too late to put in an application.
“You think that. And maybe against your normal Metro scum, you can handle it. But Ezekiel is…he’s different, all right? I don’t know much about his past, but I know he’s not your typical drug addict just out of high school. I’ve heard rumors that he went to a top university, graduated at the pinnacle of his class, joined the army, and picked up some—well, less pleasant tricks of a violent nature. He’s a psychopath, Melissa. No one expects you to—”
“A psychopath, Rosa? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You have to be a psychopath to run a drug operation in Metro. He’s hardly a good person.”
“I never said he was a good person. I doubt he has much of a conscience. He saw an opportunity to make a lot of money and took it, which I’m sure many in Metro would do if they had the means.”
“Who cares if someone else in Metro would do it? The problem is that he’s doing it, and he’s a psychopath.”
“If you aren’t buying drugs and you don’t sell his secrets, you’re safe from him. I’ve worked for him long enough to know that.”
“You’re his bodyguard, not his hired companion.”
I winced, but Rosa didn’t seem to notice.
“Once you bring sex and love into the equation, you’re in a whole new arena. A bodyguard is one thing. But Ezekiel feels differently about Melissa. He may not be paranoid, but he may get jealous. Never underestimate the dark depths of a man’s jealousy. Men do all kinds of terrible shit to the women they think they own.”
“I’m sure Ezekiel doesn’t think he owns her. Melissa, hasn’t he told you that you can leave at any time?”
This argument sounded very close to winding out of control, so I watched my words carefully. “Yes.”
“See? He has laid down the parameters of the job, and if Melissa doesn’t like them, she can always leave.”
I nodded in agreement, but I wasn’t sure. Ezekiel said I could walk away from that date on the yacht, but he hadn’t mentioned the arrangement since. Could I walk away? Even after he’d bought me so many expensive toys? I didn’t like to think about it.
Rosa frowned. “Roger, let’s just say I understand the mindset of violent men a bit more than you do.”
“I understand Ezekiel better than you do.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen, Melissa is a trinket to him, something pretty to show off to make him feel powerful. Why else would he bring her out here to do business? And why would he bring me to take care of her appearance?”
“Can you both stop talking about me like I’m not here? You can all gossip about Ezekiel as much as you like, but I can take care of myself and I don’t need anyone’s protection.” At this, I gave Rosa a pointed look, and she turned away. “Let’s all agree we don’t understand Ezekiel as much as we’d like to and leave it at that.”
“All right,” Roger muttered.
Rosa reached across the table and patted my hand. “Of course, honey.”
I didn’t care for the sympathy I saw in Rosa’s eyes, as if I were some sorry soul in need of rescue. I pulled my hand away as discreetly as possible and smiled in hopes she wouldn’t take offense.
The food came, and while I didn’t consider it worth the price on the menu, it was good enough as long as I ignored all the strangely colored specks in it. Roger looked plenty content to eat what was given to him, but Rosa picked around a lot, looking unsatisfied.
“So, Roger, if you’re her bodyguard, that means she’s in some sort of danger.”
“Not really. Just a precaution. Like…how many planes crash in a year compared to how many fly every day? And yet you always have to listen to those stupid safety talks at the beginning of each one. It’s a precaution.”
“But why? So Melissa is in danger?”
“Ezekiel’s looking out for her, that’s all. If it would make you happier, he has guards for everything—his garage, his house, his warehouses abroad. Doesn’t mean anyone’s going to attempt to steal his Lantacher—”
“He has a Lantacher?” I asked incredulously. Selling a Lantacher sports car could probably buy me a whole apartment complex in Metro, perhaps even two.
“Well, yeah. He rarely drives it. I think he keeps it for special occasions.”
“Damn,” Rosa muttered, shaking her head. “Does anyone really know how much Ezekiel is worth?”
“Never asked him,” Roger said with a smirk. “Though you’re free to, if you’d like.”
“How’d he make it all? I mean, drugs, obviously, but how do you even get started in that business?”
“Just how you get started in every other business: you make your way from the bottom to the top,” Roger replied.
“Wonder what he was like at the bottom,” I couldn’t help wondering.
“That seems to be a secret of his, so I doubt his life started out pleasant. Bruce and Garrett have that in common. I know both of them are ex-cons.”
“Lovely. Do you have a violent past, too?” Rosa asked.
Roger shook his head. “My past is none of your business.”
“No ghosts in the closet?”
Roger ran a hand along the nape of his neck, then shrugged. “Eh, maybe a few.”
“That’s why Ezekiel hired us,” I said softly. “For our ghosts.”
* * *
Ezekiel told Roger to stay home that night because he was taking me out. I would have rather spent the night with Roger, watching TV and eating popcorn like slobs, but I didn’t dare admit that. Instead I slipped into the dress provided for me, let Rosa straighten my hair and do my makeup, and showed up at the entrance to the hotel with five minutes to spare. Thanks to a hit I’d taken that afternoon, I felt calm and more confident than usual.
The lights danced across the waxed exterior of the limo, sliding along its skin like droplets of water when it moved. Ezekiel emerged from the backseat, dressed to match his black vehicle, expression and suit both wrinkle-free and flawless. He gave me a small smile.
“Come, Melissa. We have a schedule to keep.”
I took his hand, and he guided me into the limo, which was full of custom leather and dim lighting. Ezekiel sat down beside me, reaching for the champagne with one hand while letting the other rest on my bare thigh.
“Would you like a glass?” he asked, turning that sharp blue gaze on me.
“Yes, please.”
“You look unsure about this excursion.” Ezekiel poured me a glass as the limo rolled away. I couldn’t see Bruce or Garrett in the vicinity, but there was a black barrier keeping the driver a secret from us. They could be in the front seats.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
“Is it another fight club?”
“Of course not. This is for your entertainment.”
“So it’s not dangerous.”
Ezekiel scoffed. “No, not at all.”
That didn’t help my nerves much, but at least I knew Ezekiel was telling the truth. He hadn’t lied to me yet.
We ended up going to a circus of sorts, but not the kind with bears riding scooters around in a circle. Judging by the dress and breed of those in the audience, this circus was of an artsy variety, mostly contortionists, trapeze performers, and horse trainers. There were no funny clowns, no dogs in tutus, no elephants standing on big balls. Instead the acts consisted of soft classical music and feats of flexibility and athleticism. Most of the contortionists wore little more than tiny pieces of cloth over their genitals; the rest of their bodies were coated in gold glitter and elaborate paintings.
With the elegant lighting, breathtaking costumes, and astonishing talent, I was left in awe throughout the entire performance. I felt Ezekiel watching me a few times, but if I forgot he was there, I enjoyed myself. When the show ended with explosions of sparkles and crashing drums, I jumped to my feet to applaud like everyone else around me.
“I take it you liked it?” Ezekiel asked as we headed for the exit.
“Very much. Thank you.” I blushed, because I wasn’t used to thanking Ezekiel. We had a business arrangement, and neither one was expected to show any gratitude.
Bruce, who had lingered in the shadows all evening, stepped up to Ezekiel and whispered something in his ear. Ezekiel’s eyes flashed, and his amiable expression molded instantly into a fierce scowl.
“What?” he growled.
“He leaves tonight. You’d best catch him now.”
Ezekiel muttered something under his breath. He took my arm in a firm grip.
“I’m sorry to spoil the mood of the evening, Melissa, but I have someone I need to catch.”
With that, we headed to the limo at a fast walk, ducking inside moments before the car squealed away to a mystery destination.