Page 39 of The Midnight Club
They sat in the bathroom for hours, it seemed, before Maceo carried her to bed. For once they did not make love; they just lay facing each other.
“I want to destroy him,” Ori said simply, and Maceo nodded.
“I know. I will help you.”
She touched his face. “I need to go back to the States.”
Maceo didn’t look happy, but he agreed. “But with the utmost protection,” he insisted.
Little did eitherof them know then that it would not be enough …
A week before her decision had to be made, Shiloh discovered something else and it changed everything.Everything. In her tiny bathroom, she stared at the plastic stick in her hand and wondered how, in this day and age, she could have been so stupid.
She knew she couldn’t tell Benoit; either she would look like a gold-digger or an idiot.No, she thought,there’s only one course to take.
Which was why, that evening, in his opulent kitchen, she cooked a leg of lamb for Benoit, and over a bottle of Merlot, she told him about Africa. He listened carefully, then was silent for a long time. Eventually she grew crazy waiting.
“Benoit?”
His dark brown eyes were serious as he gazed at her. “Well, you have to go, obviously.”
Shiloh swallowed the lump in her throat. “You think so?”
Benoit reached for her hand. “Shiloh, it’s an amazing opportunity; you’d be a fool to turn it down. This could make your reputation internationally.”
Shiloh nodded, not trusting herself to speak.Do not cry in front of him. Do not. And for the love of God, woman, grow up.“It is,” she said softly. “Probably the best opportunity of my career.” She realized she was parroting him, but her throat felt choked and she looked away from his gaze.
“Shiloh,” he said softly. “I’m assuming it’s not forever.”
“It’s open-ended.”
“But you’re not tied into a specific time length? You can go or stay as long as you want?”
She nodded and he got up, moving his chair next to hers. “Sweetheart … I won’t be the man who stops you from reaching your potential. Iwill notbe that. Eventually it will lead to you resenting me. So, I’m saying, you need to do this and you have my full support.”
But what about us?She desperately wanted to ask him the question but something in his expression was stopping her. Suddenly she felt the fifteen year age difference between them. This man would not be tied down; that much was obvious. If anybody definedeternal bachelor,it was Benoit Vaux.
Only an incredibly stupid woman would fall in love with such a man,Shiloh thought now sadly.Only a very, very silly woman.
She suddenly couldn’t wait to get away from him. “I’m so tired tonight, Benoit ...” She softened her words with a smile. “Do you mind taking me back to my apartment?”
Benoit’s face registered surprise for a beat, then he nodded. “Of course.”
Alone, Shiloh sat on her favorite armchair, Beau asleep on her lap, her fingers stroking his silky ears. She looked out onto the Paris street, streetlamps reflected in the rain-slicked streets, and sighed.Come on now,she told herself.You were never the type to postpone your life for love. And to do it for a man like Benoit?She had to admit that it stung that he hadn’t asked her to stay, nor made any reference to his waiting for her to return. That wasn’t the way the world worked, she knew. Only in fairy tales did the white knight keep himself chaste for the princess.
No. Africa it was, and she would focus on that and the tremendous opportunity it was for her. She would book an appointment tomorrow to deal with the other problem. Her fling with Benoit was just that, a fling.
She just didn’t think she wouldeverforget him.
Maceo looked at Ori, his green eyes serious. “Are you sure about this?”
They had come to New York and, for the last week, had been watching Tyson Janek on the campaign trail rebuilding his sullied reputation, glad-handing the public, kissing babies and holding press conferences.
His most important speech was today, at New York’s City Hall. A speech about domestic abuse, Ori had told Maceo incredulously, and that disbelief had fueled her determination. Alex had helped them shape their own speech, one which Ori would deliver to Tyson’s face, in front of his public, the press, and his political colleagues. His career would be in tatters, and Ori could not wait. She smiled at Maceo now.
“One hundred percent.”
They were riding in the car with Alex, making their way through the New York traffic. Ori was wearing an elegant but classy navy dress, a string of pearls at her throat. Again, Alex had advised her on looking the part, and Ori was grateful to Maceo’s friend.
