Page 15 of The Devil and the Dancer
Don’t need you.
Never you.
Never this.
She managed to back out the door and walk halfway down the stairs before the tears began to fall. Her heart felt like an icepick had been shoved through it. Cold rain hit her face the minute she walked out the door.
Chloe didn’t stop. She kept walking. All she cared about was getting away.
4
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.Gavin couldn’t allow his emotions show on his face, not with Vivian around. He turned to her and shrugged. “She’s my manager. Must not have wanted to interrupt.”
Vivian smirked. “Seems like a skittish little thing.”
“Humans.” He sipped his whiskey and kept his voice even and calm. “Who knows what their motivations are.”
“I recall hearing that you’d become quite close with that human boy of Giovanni Vecchio’s. Would you call him a friend?”
“Ben?” Gavin walked around the bar, resisting the urge to follow Chloe out the door, and sat next to Vivian at the bar. “Ben Vecchio is an immortal in everything but biology. He thinks like us, acts like us—it’s hardly the same thing.”Find a way to turn it around to her.“What about you? How are your human employees these days? Have the economic problems in France affected your operation?”
“Not in the least. We’re quite insulated from all that. You know how I take care of my people.”
Vivian took care of her people in the same way feudal lords took care of their serfs. She assumed they adored her, patronized them, then used them however she liked. Gavin had to admit she paid better than a feudal lord though, which was why Vivian inspired loyalty among her staff even if she didn’t inspire love.
“So what’s going on?” Gavin said. “Why are you here?”
“Can’t I just come for a visit?”
“No.”
She pouted. “You’re very cross this evening.”
“I’m very cross every evening, Vivi. You’ve known me longer than anyone else. This shouldn’t be a surprise.”
What was Chloe doing? Was she taking the train? Hiring a car? Gavin heard the rain outside. Was it safe to be driving in this kind of rain?
“My new winemaker has had an intriguing idea about our brandy-distilling process, and I wanted to explore it,” Vivian said.
“Oh?”
Chloe had to get all the way to SoHo in this weather. Gavin wondered if he should call his driver. Abraham had her number.
“Yes, bourbon is quite trendy in Europe at the moment,” Vivian continued, “and Albert thinks importing used casks to age some of our spirits might be an interesting experiment.”
Would she even pick up if Abe called? Dammit, why was tomorrow Monday? He had no excuse to see her for over forty-eight hours.
And why the fuck was Vivian still talking?
“I’ve heard that Cormac O’Brien produces some of the best bourbon in the United States. I knew you were living here now. So I thought you could make the introduction.”
Gavin cut his eyes toward her. “Cormac’s bourbon casks are in high demand, Vivian. Your distiller is behind the curve. I don’t think there’s a whiskey barrel in Bourbon County that isn’t spoken for these days. Brewers are using them for beer, winemakers are buying them, distilleries all over the world have them on order.”
“Well, surely he could spare a few for an old friend—”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking we’re friends, Vivian.” Gavin turned to her.
“Who?” she asked. “You and me? Or you and O’Brien?”
