“How do you know that?” The first miscarriage was pretty public. The second one not so much.
“You think I’m going to show up without knowing who I’m meeting?” she asked like I was stupid, and maybe I was. Because I knew nothing about her.
“You’re Eden Morelli?” I asked, trying to somehow get on the offensive in this strange conversation.
“In the flesh.” She did a flourish with her hand. The diamonds on her fingers flashing in the low light.
“Who... who is that guy?” I asked, turning to look at the bodyguard at the door. Watching us with his dead eyes.
“Jacob?” she said. “You don’t need to worry about him. Former military.” Eden leaned in conspiratorially. “Secret ops. After the last Morelli Constantine dustup, I got myself the best bodyguard available on the dark web.”
Every single word in that sentence was terrifying.
“I’m not... a threat... to you,” I said, because I was scared of Jacob. And Eden, frankly. “I just wanted some information.”
Eden flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, her green eyes glittering. “Like you don’t know information is the most dangerous threat there is.” She lifted her glass again. “One more. Your sister was right about you.”
“What did she say?”
“That you used to be fun. Now you act like you’re allergic.”
“I’m not allergic,” I said, wounded. “Just out of practice.”
“Well, I’m a hell of a coach, let’s go.”
With the last shot of vodka warming me up from the inside, I picked up my glass and took a sip, which seemed to be enough for Eden Morelli.
“Your sister said you wanted some dirt on one of Caroline’s employees?”
“Yeah. A guy named Ronan.”
“You know. You’re pretty tight with the Constantines, seems that maybe just asking Caroline might be easier.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I said, trying to keep it vague, but it felt like I was spilling my guts about everything. This woman was watching me so carefully it was like she could see the things I wasn’t saying. “I don’t even know his last name.”
“Byrne,” she said.Ronan Byrne.Yeah. That felt... right.
“You know him?”
“Only by reputation and what I’ve been able to find out. Which isn’t much.”
“What is his reputation?” I asked.
“Well, no one would ever confuse him for a good guy.”
I did. That night at my engagement. And perhaps... perhaps at the fundraiser. Before he said all those things to me. Before he pushed me away like I was trash. Before he made me feel like trash.
“Well, his childhood is a whole Charles Dickens thing. Mom wasn’t around. Dad was in and out the army and jail. Died when he was about ten. Ronan grew up in a protestant boarding school. He has more hospital records than anything else.”
“Hospital?”
“Someone liked beating the shit out of him.”
I took a sip of vodka, the glass cold against my lips as that information sunk in.
“How did Caroline find him?”
Eden shrugged. “The Constantines have had their fingers in the oil drilling off the coast of the UK for a couple of decades. She could have met him at any point.”