Chapter 29
Cover
To protect a piece, perhaps by placing the king in check
It was bitterly cold on Monday when Lucian returned to the city. Climbing out of the limo, he hustled up the steps to Patras, the blustery wind chapping his cheeks in the mere seconds it took him to reach the warm interior of the lobby.
“Good morning, Mr. Patras,” numerous attendants greeted as he passed quickly to the elevators. Sniffles and coughs filled the air, mixing with the low chatter of normal check-in traffic. Winter had arrived.
Entering the condo he found his mail and several messages awaiting him. He checked his phone and saw that Slade and Jamie would be arriving any minute. As he sorted through the mail, the soft chime of the elevator sounded and he moved to answer the door.
“Shit, it’s miserable out,” Jamie said as he undid his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. Slade moved with quiet stealth, not needing to state the obvious like Jamie so often did.
“You guys eat?” Lucian stacked the mail on the heap of papers on his desk for later.
“I’m good. Coffee would be welcome though.”
Coffee was ordered and they jumped right into business. Jamie took the signed contracts he’d been waiting for and Slade sighed with relief. This deal was one they’d all been anxious to conclude.
Papers were sealed in envelopes and a messenger arrived to deliver them directly to the Realtor finalizing the deal.
“Well, it’s good to see that finally over,” Jamie said, leaning back and exhaling a long-held breath.
Slade snickered. “It’s just beginning now. This is going to be a nightmare once we get into zoning.”
“It’ll be fine,” Lucian commented, wanting to move on to more important issues. “Slade, I’m having a shipment of winter clothing sent over to St. Christopher’s tomorrow. I spoke to Paula and she said to check with you to make sure someone’s there to receive the delivery.”
Slade’s expression became unreadable. An unsavory sense of dread ran through Lucian’s veins.
“What?” he asked, knowing this wouldn’t be good.
Slade, always so in command of himself, actually stuttered. “Uh, Luche, I’m not sure what Paula told you, but we’ve sort of been battling hard with the fire inspector lately.”
“She mentioned that. I’m going to send a crew over there to see what needs to be done and have everything taken care of.” There was no sign of relief in Slade’s expression. “What?”
The other man squirmed uncomfortably, then stood, walking his coffee cup to the tray and reaching for his coat. “There’s nothing that could’ve been done at this point. Our donors are tapped with the upcoming holiday and recent surplus of residents.”
Irritated at his inability to get to the point, he gritted, “Spit it out, Slade. What are you getting at?”
“They barred the doors on Black Friday. The sprinkler system failed inspection and the fire inspector condemned the building.”
Pressure built between Lucian’s ears as a sudden red rage blurred his vision. He lunged at Slade, fisting his lapels and jerking him against the table. Jamie shouted and grabbed his shoulders. “You knew! You fucking knew this was going to happen and you didn’t tell me!” he growled in his face.
Jamie ripped him off of Slade and he panted, ready to spring back at him again. Slade batted the wrinkles out of his jacket then glared at him. “What fucking difference does it make, Lucian? Another shelter will open eventually and they’ll all move on. She’s fucking homeless! Do you understand what that means? They’re filthy and thieves and addicts—”
Lucian shoved Slade and he shoved back. Jamie jumped between them. “Enough!” Jamie shouted. “This is bullshit! Both of you back the fuck up.”
They each took a step back and scowled at one another.
“Fuck you, Slade,” Lucian spat. “She isn’t like that.”
He was a hypocrite, helping the homeless from afar, but never really believing they deserved to join the ranks of the working class. It was the same self-serving, pompous bullshit the rest of the upper class pretended at to make them feel less like rich snobs. Evelyn may not be upper class, but she didn’t belong on the streets.
The sense of being betrayed cut through him. Evelyn was right. Slade didn’t like her. But this was more than a matter of taste or his sensitive feelings regarding Monique’s memory. This was an act of Judas.
“I don’t get you man,” Slade said, shaking his head. “What did you expect to gain from associating with her? She doesn’t have a clue about our world. You see this doll you’ve dressed up and fucked, but you’re missing the big picture. I don’t even want to think who’s visited that well before you.”
Lucian hadn’t realized he moved. He only registered the sharp sting of Slade’s face slamming into his knuckles.
“Get the fuck out of my home!”
Slade glared up at Lucian from where he was sprawled across the table. Dabbing the corner of his lip gingerly, he licked a bit of blood and spit on his carpet.