Page 92 of Pervade Montego Bay
“I had no say in the décor.”
“Oh, why not?”
He pointed to the stage. “You can play before or after me. It’s all very relaxed here. It’s how we are on this island.”
Narrowing my eyes on him, I wondered why he’d dodged the question. “Why did you have no choice in the décor?”
“I wasn’t asked. Simple as that. I’m grateful for this place. Trust me, it could be worse.”
I nonchalantly changed the subject. “How long have you known James?”
“A long time.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We were introduced years ago.”
That was as vague an answer as one would expect from an acquaintance of James. “So you must be good friends?”
He nodded. “Just as you are, apparently.”
I focused on the black and white keys, placing my fingers on them reverently and ignoring his insinuation. I needed to remember not to look at James like he was a sex god. Not when we had company, anyway.
“Do you play?” he asked.
My fingertips traced the keys. “I wish.”
“Obviously you have musical talent.”
“Did you know Victoria, James’ wife?”
“Yes, she was lovely. The accident was tragic.”
“Accident?”
“Yes, the car accident.”
I blinked at him realizing he may not know the details of what happened. “Did he and Victoria have a baby?”
Louis stayed silent, staring across the lawn.
Oh, my God, he’d not denied it.
Following his line of sight, I looked at the young man making a beeline toward us. He was in his late twenties. In contrast to the other guests, he was wearing a white shirt and creased slacks, with a beige jacket flung over his shoulder. He studied us with troubled eyes.
“Hey, Louis.” He rested a hand on the piano.
Louis pushed to his feet and stood in front of me, almost protectively.
“How’s things?” asked the man.
Louis shot him a suspicious look. “How did you get in?”
“Through the gate.” He leaned around Louis and offered me his hand.
Not wanting to make a scene, I gave him a polite handshake.
“Trevor’s a journalist.” Louis’ expression held a warning for me.
