Sacrifice (21 page)

I looked over at him. “Funny, I always thought the same about you.” I picked up my cocktail and took a long sip.

“
But you already know how I feel.” Dallas got up from the chair. “And you don’t need that,” he insisted as he took the drink from my hand. “You need to be sharp for your date with Caston tonight.”

I sighed as I thought about the evening ahead of me.

“
Despite what you may think of David or me, you still have a job to do.” He went to the sink and poured out my drink. “Wear that green velvet dress I gave you last December for Val’s party. You need to be the center of attention tonight.”

“
If it makes you feel any better I didn’t sleep with him,” I admitted as I stared into his face.

“
I know,” Dallas assured me. “If you had, you wouldn’t have needed the drink.”

***

Gregory Caston arrived at precisely seven thirty. I was in my bedroom, putting the last touches of make up on my face, when I heard the doorbell. As I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror once more, I ran my hand over my green velvet beaded gown.

“
Prompt little shit, isn’t he?” Dallas commented from the bedroom door.

I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. “Do you want me to answer it?” he asked, raising his dark eyebrows tauntingly. He was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo. His expensive stainless steel watch gleamed on his wrist as the smell of his spicy cologne wafted into my room. There were times when his good looks took me off guard.

I hurriedly grabbed my handbag, “No, I’ll get it, you…” I stopped myself and looked over at him. “What are you going to do tonight?” I asked warily.

He grinned. “I’ll be shadowing you at the party.”

“
Are you sure you should take that chance? This is a big event and there will be a lot of people there and probably a lot of security as well.”

“
Nicci, I know how to do my job. You just worry about Caston tonight. Remember, if things get to be too much don’t panic. You’re at a public event surrounded by lots of witnesses. You can simply leave the party and come back here.”

“
And what if Greg wants to be alone with me?”

“
You’re going to have to go with him. Refusing him might look suspicious. You’re supposed to be gaining his confidence, not pushing him away.” The doorbell rang again. “You’d better go,” he said.

I made it to the living room in time to hear the doorbell ringing yet again. I took a deep breath and tried to settle the hornet’s nest that was burning inside of my stomach.

“
I just know dealing with all of these men has got to be giving me an ulcer,” I mumbled as I reached for the doorknob.

***

Greg’s gallery was located in the Warehouse District of downtown New Orleans not far from the docks scattered along the Mississippi River. The entrance to the three-story old brick building was bustling with people dressed in haute couture and arriving in long limousines. Greeting the guests at the curb were black tie waiters with silver trays filled with flutes of champagne. As Greg exited our limousine, a flash went off. He reached inside the back of the car for me, and when I stepped onto the curb a photographer snapped my picture.

Greg smiled at the photographer as he tugged at my hand. “I’m known for my charity events and The Times-Picayune likes to add highlights of me, as well as my guests, on the society page. It helps with donations.”

I smiled at him. “It’s good to know that the philanthropist side of you is being recognized by the local media.”

Greg laughed as he eased me away from the curb. “Yes, but the same media takes their shots at me too, Nicci. They like telling lies about me and setting other local business owners against me.”

“
Why would they do that, Greg?” I asked as he took my elbow. “I’m sure you have nothing to hide.”

Greg glared at me with his intense eyes. “Your friend Simon La Roy doesn’t think so. He’s been telling lies about me for years.”

“
What kind of lies?”

Greg took in the guests gathering outside of the entrance to his gallery. “I don’t think that matters. I hired extra security to make sure he does not surprise us tonight. Let’s not mention his name any more this evening.”

We stepped through the front doors to find the entrance hallway of the gallery filled with a line of receiving tables. Guests were signing in and showing invitations to pretty girls in short, black dresses. Greg stopped and chatted casually with a few of the people standing in line. Once inside the central portion of the main gallery, Greg stopped a waiter, who was passing by with a loaded down silver tray of champagne, and grabbed two flutes. He handed me a glass and smiled.

“
All they will be serving tonight is Dom Perignon. But I can have one of my staff run out and get you whatever you wish to drink.”

I took the glass from his hand, frowning slightly. “That’s all right. But Dom Perignon is not one of my favorites. I prefer La Grande Dame to most champagne.”

“
You’re quite right, Nicci. La Grande Dame is a much better champagne, but among the socially empowered but culturally inept individuals here tonight, Dom Perignon means money. And to make money with this crowd you must first cater to their wishes, no matter how unpalatable they may be.”

I nodded my head and refrained from smirking. “Yes, not everyone can be expected to meet such dizzying standards.”

He laughed. “You’re a snob, Ms. Beauvoir.”

I raised my head, proudly. “But of course, Mr. Caston. Do you disapprove?”

“
Not at all. I like a woman who knows her worth.”

“
And does Ms. Ryan know her worth?” I asked not being able to resist the opportunity to mention the woman I was trying to usurp.

He raised his eyebrows looking thoroughly amused. “Jenny? A pleasant diversion, but she means nothing to me. She originally came to New Orleans with a man of underworld repute and I won her in a poker game.”

I felt my insides seethe. To be so nonchalant about winning a woman in a card game made the man appear more revolting to me than ever before.

“
Do you feel all women are a commodity to be traded away on a whim?” I asked, raising my flute to my lips.

Greg looked at me and frowned. “Hardly. The man I won the girl from was a common thug and the few minutes I watched him beating her convinced me that the girl needed rescuing.”

“
And who will you give the girl to when you’re finished with her?”

“
Jenny Ryan is free to leave me whenever she likes. She has a job; one that I got her, with a local art gallery. She does pretty well without any assistance from me. Not bad for a run away from Hackensack.” He took a sip from his champagne. “But who could compare the infantile twatter of that New Jersey throwback to you.” He waved a hand at me. “You’re eloquent, poised and—”

“
I’m the real Jenny and not a Jersey knock off,” I interrupted.

His face fell slightly. I could immediately detect the hint of irritation in his eyes. “So you have discovered my weakness.”

“
I would be a fool not to see the resemblance between Ms. Ryan and myself. And I was told you have an affinity for all things Jenny.”

He leaned in closer to me. “What else did Simon tell you about me?”

“
That I was not to trust you,” I answered with a grin.

Greg snorted with displeasure. “Simon is the one you shouldn’t be trusting, Nicci. I used to work for Simon many years ago, before your Mr. Alexander started up in the ranks. Then I left and opened my own organization with the generous backing of several of his prized clients.”

“
I heard about that too.”

He looked surprised. “From Simon?”

I shook my head slightly. “From Dallas August.”

“
I thought you two had parted company?”

“
We have. But he heard about our being seen together and felt he should warn me about you. Dallas always was the overprotective type.”

He put his drink down on a nearby table. “You know Simon wasn’t happy about losing his best man to you, Nicci. When Dallas packed up and left his camp, well, quite of a few of us Simon haters secretly applauded you.”

“
I’m glad to hear that.” I smiled and took another sip from my champagne.

Greg escorted me around the main gallery on the first floor, introducing me to friends and associates along the way. He made a point of leaning over to whisper interesting tidbits about each of his guests in my ear. I noticed some familiar faces around the room watching our movements and whispering among themselves. By morning, I figured well over half of the New Orleans social set would have heard of my date with Gregory Caston.

After an hour of socializing with his guests, a petite brunette came up to Greg’s side and whispered in his ear. The girl then promptly turned from him and disappeared into the crowd.

“
If you will excuse me,” Greg turned to me and I could see the pained expression of frustration in his eyes. “I have a small matter to attend to in my office. I promise I won’t be long. Amuse yourself with the paintings and the guests while I am gone.”

I smiled warmly for him. “It’s quite all right, Greg.”

He gave me one last glance and hastily walked away. When he came to the edge of the gallery floor, I eagerly watched as he disappeared behind a door marked “no admittance.”

“
I see you’re making headway with Caston,” a familiar voice said behind me.

I turned to see Dallas staring at me.

I nodded my head to him and smiled. “How did you get past security?”

“
Not a problem if you know how to blend in,” he replied. “You two seem to be getting quite cozy.”

I rubbed my hands together as I took in the crowd of people milling around us. “As cozy as necessary to keep him interested.”

Dallas smiled. “Very good, Nicci.” He came closer to my side and whispered, “He has a problem brewing in his office with that girlfriend of his, Ms. Ryan. Someone must have told the girl about your date tonight. Fortunately, one of the attendants out front spotted her at the door and escorted her to a rear entrance.”

“
I wonder who told her about our plans?”

“
I’ll bet Simon did it. Sounds like his kind of dirty work.” Dallas paused as he glanced about the gallery. “Use this as an opportunity to get closer to Caston. Go after him. Tell him his guests were asking about him. Your appearance will undoubtedly make the situation worse,” he reasoned.

I frowned at him. “And then what?”

“
Be understanding and remain cool with the girl. It will make Caston want to confide in you even more. Later, he may want to talk to you about his troubled relationship.” Dallas stepped back from me. “Agree to go wherever he suggests,” he directed.

I raised my eyebrows to him. “Wherever he suggests? Are you sure about this?”

“
We need him, Nicci, so play along. Besides, he wants to win you over. He won’t try anything this soon in the game.”

“
I hope you’re right.” I was about to step away when he reached for my hand.

“
And remember, you’re David Alexander’s Jenny. Don’t let Caston ever forget that. The more he thinks you still belong to David, the more he’ll want you.”

I nodded and turned away. I headed straight for the door marked “no admittance.”

Once I had left the main gallery floor, I found myself in a dimly lit corridor. From a partially open door at the end of the hallway, I could hear the raised voices of a man and woman. I followed the voices until I stood in front of the slightly ajar office door. I took in a deep breath and gently pushed the door open.

Jenny Ryan was standing in front of a dark walnut and silver inlay desk. Her eyes widened when I entered the room. Greg had his back to me, but the instant the girl saw me, she lunged for me. Luckily, Greg jumped out in time to keep her from reaching me.

She struggled against Greg’s grip. “Ya’d better back off, bitch! He’s mine!” Jenny Ryan yelled, baring her sharp white teeth at me.

“
Jenny!” Greg cried out while holding the squirming girl in his arms. “I’m not yours and don’t talk to Nicci that way. She and I are just—”

“
Friends,” I said, finishing the sentence for him. “Nothing more, Ms. Ryan, I assure you. Greg merely offered to take me to his benefit to introduce me to people in the art scene. There can never be anything romantic between us.”

Greg turned to me and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

The girl stopped squirming and warily scrutinized my face. Her long auburn hair was tossed about her head, and there were already black circles under her eyes caused from a mix of tears and an overabundance of mascara.

“
Ya expect me to believe ya?” she cried out.

I smiled for her. “I have no interest in a man in my life. I’m still in love with the artist I buried three years ago. There’s no room in my heart for another.”

Jenny Ryan ceased her struggling and then Greg let her go. She stood adjusting her green sequined dress and trying to fix her hair. I could tell by the softening of her eyes that she had believed me.

“
I, ah, am real sorry,” she said as she gazed apologetically over at me. “Simon La Roy told me you guys had a date.” She turned to Greg. “What was I supposed to think? Ya never said nothin’ ‘bout bringin’ her here. Ya should have told me ‘bout it.”