Authors: Leslie Caine
Fatal Feng Shui (27 page)
Richard stiffened and all but sneered at me while giving me a visual once-over. “As I believe I already told you, Miss Gilbert, I can’t go into the details. I’m sorry.” He rose, faced Steve, and only then forced a smile. “Well. I’ve wasted enough of your time.” Steve, too, got to his feet as Richard continued, “I just wanted to apologize, face to face, for jumping down your throat last night.”
“Hey. That’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t. I leapt to ridiculous conclusions. I’m not always rational when it comes to Burke Stratton. The man is bad news. If you continue to work with him, you’ll regret it. But, that’s your decision. And this has been a hell of a lousy way to resume our friendship, S.S.”
“Yeah. Cruddy circumstances.” The men shook hands. “Thanks for coming.”
“I
shouldn’t
have come, like I said on the phone. But I felt you deserved the heads up. It was the least I could do, really.” He gave me a thin smile. “Sorry that I’m forced to be so cryptic, Miss Gilbert.”
Not knowing what else to say, I muttered, “Thank you. Drive carefully.”
The moment the door closed behind Richard, Sullivan dropped into his desk chair, eyed me, and snapped, “
That
was awkward.”
“Yes, it was. And I’m sorry, but, truth be told, my questions seemed completely reasonable to me.”
“He’d just got through telling us that he shouldn’t even have been talking to us in the first place! That he wasn’t at liberty to discuss any details!”
“No, he didn’t, Sullivan. He must have told
you
that over the phone. All he said at first in
my
presence was that he was sorry to be so vague.”
“It’s the same thing!”
“No, it isn’t. Apologizing for being vague is not at all the same as being ethically or perhaps legally under a gag order.”
He made no comment and returned to his work—rifling through pictures of myriad formal dining room sets in order to whittle down the selection process to the best two or three for our client. His every motion was made with extra zeal and noise. I reclaimed my seat at my desk, which was at a right angle to his, and tried to get to work as well, but gave up within a minute or two.
“Why are you angry at me, Sullivan? Could you please just explain to me what’s going on here?”
“I don’t know what Richard knows, Gilbert. But I do know he always tells it like it is.
Always
. So we need to listen.” He paused, still so edgy that it was wisest not to interrupt. “I wanted you two to like each other. He’s a great motivator…has such great vision. He believed in me first. When no one else did, including myself. And now, last night was…just last night.”
My heart leapt to my throat. “What does
that
mean?”
“Nothing.”
I stared at him in profile.
“Nothing?”
He lifted his hands in exasperation. “Damn it, Gilbert! I quit seeing other women because nobody measured up to you. But when I’m with you, I’m not measuring up to
your
standards, and—”
“That’s not true,” I cried, but he was talking over me—something about how dating
me
was even
worse
.
“I’m always screwing up. It’s always wrong! You were right before. We shouldn’t date.”
At once, his words seemed to hang in the air and yet to drop like an axe. I swiveled in my chair to face my monitor and hide my expression from him. “Oh. I see.”
The phone rang.
“I didn’t mean ‘we shouldn’t’ as in ‘we won’t.’ Just that…you were right about its not working.”
“No, that’s fine.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Erin.”
“I’ll get over it.” Just like I could dive face first through the window and probably recover. Eventually. Despite wanting to burst into tears, I picked up the phone.
Sullivan had risen and was now leaning on my desk. He whispered, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
I was too upset to listen. I cleared my throat and said, “Sullivan and Gilbert Designs” into the phone.
“I don’t want to stop seeing you.”
A woman was speaking. I told her: “Can you please hold?” and pressed the button without waiting for her response.
“Who is that?” Sullivan asked.
“I don’t know. A soon-to-be-former client, most likely.” I sighed and looked up at him. I felt a horrid pang that made it hurt to breathe. If only he weren’t so close to being everything I wanted, and yet never within reach. “We can’t do this now.”
“I don’t want to do this at all.”
“Oh, Steve.” I massaged my temples, willing myself not to lose my composure. “I don’t know if you mean ‘do this’ as in breaking up or as in being together. But
I
just meant that this isn’t a good time for us to talk about it.”
“No kidding. It’s a train wreck. Look. Let me cover our last two appointments this afternoon alone, while you see if you can get us caught up here. Okay? Meet me tonight at Richard’s class. Please.”
I nodded as I clicked back into the line and said, “This is Erin Gilbert. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Silence. “Hello?” Nobody was there. Sullivan pushed out the door.
“It
is
a train wreck,” I muttered to myself.
The phone rang again, and I answered immediately.
“Erin, it’s Burke,” he said. “I need your help.”
Had he been told about the charges Thayers had made against him? “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Some idiot with an axe to grind has put me under investigation for false claims of rule violations. Turns out the finalist judge is this guy named Richard Thayers, who hates my guts. He did some work for me three or four years ago, and it was all such garbage, I refused to pay. So it was probably him who leveled these outrageous charges. But I don’t know for sure. Nobody at Earth Love would tell me.”
“Should I—”
“At any rate,” he interrupted, his words gushing out in a semi-tirade, “I’m telling you, Erin,
promising
, you, even, the claims are totally bogus. But my status as a finalist is now pending. Worst part is, there’ll be some sort of trial. It’ll be covered in the
Crestview Sentinel
. My name will be dragged through the mud.”
“I’m so sorry, Burke. That’s terrible.”
“I need you and Steve to testify. I’ll get Jeremy Greene, my architect, to testify as well. Once I find out what the charges
are
. Earth Love won’t tell me
that
, yet, either. They said I’ll have to call back tomorrow morning, after they’ve had a chance to read through the reports.”
“I’ll do what I can, Burke, but—” I stopped. This wasn’t the time to explain about Sullivan’s possible conflict of interest. Burke was our client, and we’d been paid to be on his side.
“‘But’ what?”
“Steve’s not here, and we’ll need to talk this over. All three of us. Let’s aim for sometime tomorrow, after you’ve learned exactly what you’re up against. Or Friday, if that works better.”
The other line was flashing with an incoming call. I set a tentative time to meet at our office in the morning, said a hasty goodbye to Burke, and answered. “Erin, this is Margot Troy,” a woman’s voice huffed. “Did you realize you hung up on me?”
“Was that you on the phone just now?”
“A minute or two ago, yes. You tried to put me on hold.”
“I’m really sorry, Margot.”
“This is the reason I didn’t hire you to spruce up for the open house last Saturday. Today I’d decided I wanted to hire you
again
, for a second small job, but now I won’t. In any case, it was nice seeing you at the Earth Love open house, and best of luck to Burke.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Margot. And I’m—”
“True,” she interrupted, “but it’s also just basic manners. You should have thought to wish me well, for old time’s sake. But you’re obviously too busy to answer my phone call.”
“Margot, I am so—”
She hung up. “Sorry,” I added to myself.
Margot Troy. My
former
client from hell. I found both her and her home fascinating, though. The woman was filthy rich, yet believed so strongly in recycling that she’d built and furnished her home entirely from secondhand or salvaged materials. I couldn’t work for her until the contest was over, in any case, but I needed to repair this new rift. Tomorrow, maybe. If Sullivan and I had any free time.
Thinking about Steve’s and my schedules reminded me that I didn’t know what time Richard’s class was. Had either of them mentioned it? And what on earth was going on between Richard and Burke?
More importantly, were things over between Steve and me? Were these walls thick enough that I could let out a scream without causing anybody to call 911?
I took a calming breath and counted to ten. Okay. I could still breathe. And count. All was not completely lost.
I love my job. I truly do. Just not today.
Also by LESLIE CAINE
Death by Inferior Design
Manor of Death
False Premises
Killed by Clutter
And coming soon from Dell
Poisoned by Gilt
FATAL FENG SHUI
A Dell Book / November 2007
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2007 by Leslie Caine
Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-440-33721-8
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