Pull Of The Moon

“I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean…”

“Of course you didn’t.” He softened his voice. “Trust me. I’ll take care of everything.”

She swallowed a large bubble of air.

“Everything’s fine,” he insisted.

“But what if—”

“She’s just doing her job.”

“But…” She sighed. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He hung up, snatched the brochure from the desk and sneered at the mansion used as a logo. They’d airbrushed out the weeds and the neglect, but they couldn’t quite hide the self-important haughtiness. He pitched the brochure into his briefcase, snapped it shut and locked it.

Valerie was at Moongate.

He reached for the custom-tailored suit jacket on his bed. She’d been warned. If she couldn’t take a hint, if she got in his way, she’d have to suffer the consequences.

Then a zing of new possibility burst in his chest. He smiled as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. On the other hand, if he couldn’t keep her away, maybe he could use her to his advantage.

He’d get his chance. He’d always known it would come.

Briefcase in hand, he hummed as he left the room. This time, he’d get it right. This time, no one would mistake him for shoe scum—least of all the high-and-mighty Rita Meadows.

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